At these places the dog was once or twice nearly baffled again.
They well knew the reason why the trail thus meandered about.

Poor Francois had been wandering, and knew not which way to go.
Once more the trail ran direct for a distance of two miles or more.

No doubt Francois had there kept up his resolution and ridden straight forward; but, as Basil remarked, he had been travelling all the time with his back to their camp! Over this part, as the trail was fresh, the hound ran rapidly, keeping the hunters at a brisk gallop.

At the end of the stretch it again turned to the right and westward.
As they faced in this direction, the attention of the brothers was called to the sky.

_The sun was setting_! A new feeling of apprehension came over them.