Here the trail entirely disappeared.
No "signs" could be found on the opposite bank.

The underwood was thick; and vines, with broad green leaves and huge clusters of scarlet flowers, barred up the path like a wall.
It was strange! The path had evidently led to this point, but where beyond?
Several men were detached across the stream to find an opening.

After a search of some minutes a short exclamation from Lincoln proclaimed success; I crossed over, and found the hunter standing near the bank, holding back a screen of boughs and vine-leaves, beyond which a narrow but plain track was easily distinguished, leading on into the forest.
The trellis closed like a gate, and it seemed as if art had lent a hand to the concealment of the track.

The footprints of several horses were plainly visible in the sandy bottom of the road.
The men entered in single file.

With some difficulty Major Blossom and his great horse squeezed themselves through, and we moved along under the shady and silent woods.
After a march of several miles, fording numerous streams, and working our way through tangled thickets of nopal and wild maguey, an opening suddenly appeared through the trees.