lity filled him
with glee.

"Well, that fellow may be an ordinary red fox," explained the Indian
youth. "If so, he is only worth from ten to twenty dollars; or he may be
a black fox, worth fifty or sixty; or what we call a 'cross'--a mixture
of silver and black--worth from seventy-five to a hundred. Or--"

"Heap big silver!" interrupted Mukoki with another chuckle.

"Yes, or a silver," finished Wabi. "A poor silver is worth two hundred
dollars, and a good one from five hundred to a thousand! Now do you see
why we would like to have a difference in the tracks? If that was a
silver, a black or a 'cross,' we'd follow him; but in all probability he
is red."

Every hour added to Rod's knowledge of the wilderness and its people.
For the first time in his life he saw the big dog-like tracks made by
wolves, the dainty hoof-prints of the red deer and the spreading
imprints of a traveling lynx; he pictured the hugeness of the moose that
made a track as big as his head, discovered how to tell the difference
between the hoof-print of a small moose and a big caribou, and in almost
every mile learned something new.

Half a dozen times during the morning the hunters stopped to rest. By
noon Wabi figured that they had traveled twenty miles, and, although
very tired, Rod declared that he was still "game for another ten." After
dinner the aspect of the country changed. The river which they had been
following became narrower and was so swift in places that it rushed
tumultuously between its frozen edges. Forest-clad hills, huge boulders
and masses of rock now began to mingle again with the bottoms, which in
this country are known as plains. Every mile added to the roughness and
picturesque grandeur of the country. A few miles to the east rose
another range of wild and rugged hills; small lakes became more and more
numerous, and everywhere the hunters crossed and recrossed frozen
creeks.

And each step they took now added to the enthusiasm of Wabi and his
companions. Evidences of game and fur animals were plenty. A thousand
ideal locations for a winter camp were about them, and their progress
became slow and studied.

A gently sloping hill of considerable height now lay in their path and
Mukoki led the ascent. At the top the three paused in joyful
astonishment. At their feet lay a "dip," or hollow, a dozen acres in
extent, and in the center of this dip was a tiny lake partly surrounded
by a mixed forest of cedar, balsam and birch