He had not to follow it, only pick out the rail of the
fence near where it passed and hurry to that spot.
And there it was, waiting for him. If Hervey had been well versed in
tracking lore and less of a seeker after glory, he would have
scrutinized the lowest rail of the fence, under which the track went,
for bits of hair. But Hervey Willetts was not after bits of hair. It was
quite like him that he did not care two straws about what sort of animal
he was tracking. He was tracking the Eagle badge.
In the sparse woods the tracks appeared as regular tracks again, sharply
cut in the hard earth. Where the ground was bare under the trees, the
tracks were as clear as writing on a slate, but in the intervening
spaces the vegetation obscured them and he found them with difficulty.
This tracking in the woods was the hardest part of his task because it
required patience and deliberation, and Hervey had neither.
But he managed it and was beginning to wonder how far his tracking had
led him and whether he was near to covering the required distance. When
he felt certain of that, he would drive a stake in the ground, fly his
navy blue scarf from it to prove his claim, and go back to camp in
triumph. He had made up his mind that he would at once report his feat
in Council Shack, and offer to escort any or all of the trustees back
over the ground in verification of his crowning accomplishment. The only
Eagle Scout at Temple Camp, except Tom Slade; and Tom Slade didn't
count.
Pages:
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54