Jean got up, and taking his rifle went out into the gray obscurity of dawn to try to locate the turkeys.

But it was too dark, and finally when daylight came they appeared to be gone.

The mule had strayed, and, what with finding it and cooking breakfast and packing, Jean did not make a very early start.

On this last lap of his long journey he had slowed down.

He was weary of hurrying; the change from weeks in the glaring sun and dust-laden wind to this sweet coot darkly green and brown forest was very welcome; he wanted to linger along the shaded trail.