ed the heath,
and half the patrol took one side of the road and half the other.
Within three minutes Dick Elliott raised the wild howl which was their
patrol-call, and everyone rushed towards him. He had found the trail.
It was on the further side of the high-road, and ran straight ahead
beside it, and on raced the Wolves along the tracks.

Chippy had observed how clear a trail he left, and when he came to the
high-road, he thought it was about time to throw his pursuers out a
little, for they could travel much faster than he could go in the
tracking-irons. So at the edge of the high-road down went his head and
up went his feet, and he walked across the smooth hard road on his
hands, leaving no trace, or such a trace as the Wolf Patrol were not
yet clever enough to pick up. With the tracking-irons safely hoisted
in the air, he went quite thirty yards before he turned himself right
side up again, and scuttled off. He went another mile, and practised
the same manoeuvre once more, and then he crept very warily forward,
for the land was rising to a ridge. Unless he crossed this ridge with
the utmost caution the boys behind him on the heath would see his
figure against the sky-line. He marked a place where the ridge was
crowned with gorse-bushes, and through these he wriggled his way,
receiving a hundred scratches, but troubling nothing about that.

On the other side the ridge went down even more steeply than by the
slope which Chippy had just ascended, and up this farther side a huge
waggon, drawn by four powerful horses, was slowly making its way.

As soon as Chippy saw the waggon an idea popped into his mind, and he
hurried forward to meet the great vehicle. He kept among the bushes so
that the driver did not see him. The latter, indeed, from his high
perch, was too busy cracking his whip over his team to urge them to the
ascent to see that small, gliding figure slipping through the gorse.
So Chippy dodged behind the waggon, swung himself up by the tail-board,
and climbed in as nimbly as a cat. The forepart of the waggon was full
of sacks of meal, and a heap of empty sacks lay against the tail-board.
In a trice he had hidden himself under the empty sacks, and lay there
without making sign or sound.

The waggon rolled on over the ridge, and soon Chippy heard the
long-drawn note of a Wolf's howl. He knew the patrol was now near at
hand, but he lay quite still, and peered out at the side of the
tail-board, for