Lena, who seldom showed a symptom of fear, dashed up to me in a state of great excitement, with the deep scores of a leopard's claws on her hindquarters.

Only two couple of the hounds followed on the elk's track; the rest were nowhere.
The elk had doubled back, and I saw old Bluebeard leading upon the scent up the bank of the river, followed by three other bounds.
The surest, although the hardest work, was to get on the track and follow up through the jungle.

This I accordingly did for about a mile, at which distance I arrived at a small swampy plain in the centre of the jungle.

Here, to my surprise, I saw old Bluebeard sitting up and looking faint, covered with blood, with no other dog within view.

The truth was soon known upon examination.