lender forms of the trees whose
high tops were hidden by the low hanging mists that were as the breath
of the huge ocean. The waters of the ocean not far away were slowly
surging through the narrow pass of "The Golden Gate."

Then the hanging white strips of bark from the tall eucalyptus trees,
added to the ghostly effect of the interior of the wood. James noticed
none of these things for his attention was fixed on following the trail
of his enemies. Here his long training in wood and plain craft stood him
in good stead. It was his friend, Captain Graves, way back in Colorado,
who had given him his first lessons in this difficult art and he could
have had no better tutor than the captain, who had himself qualified in
many a hard contest with the crafty Indian.

Now the Mexican was subtle, if not crafty, and the ordinary observer,
even if he were as intelligent and quick as John Berwick, undoubtedly
would have been entirely at sea in following the trail. Jim's keen
senses, however, trained for such work, were not to be so easily
baffled. The Mexican alone would have been exceedingly hard to have
tracked, but his heavier footed comrade disturbed the fallen leaves or
left a print in the red soil that betrayed the trail.

However, the pursuers were of necessity slowed down to a certain degree
so that their chance of overtaking the two rascals grew slimmer every
second. At that moment, however, their chase was given a new impetus. It
came with a suddenness that was startling. From some distance ahead, it
was difficult to tell how far, there came a furious chorus of yelps,
barks and howls.

"Dogs!" cried Jim; "they have got our quarry treed!"

"Wild dogs, too!" said the engineer. "I've run across packs of them
traveling in Mongolia. Ugly customers they are, too, unless you are
good and ready for them."

At that instant there came the sharp report of half-a-dozen pistol
shots, and the yelps were turned to howls of pain.

"Why didn't our friends in front ambush us and load us up with some of
those lead pellets," remarked John Berwick thoughtfully.

"Perhaps they hadn't got to the place that suited them," said Jim, "or
maybe they have orders from old Captain Broome to take us alive rather
than dead. You know he is a man who likes to settle his own grudges,
rather than by proxy."

"You must be something of a mind reader, James," remarked Berwick.

"I'm not that," declared Jim, "but I have had some dealing with Captain