mself and stretched a long arm toward the north.

"River go like much devil 'long edge of mountain," he continued. "Make
heap noise through rock, then make swamp thick for cow moose--then run
through mountain and make wide, smooth river once more. We go over
mountain. Snow all night. Morning come--no trail for Woonga. We stay
here--make big trail in morning. Woonga follow like devil, ver' plain to
see!"

Wabi rose to his feet, his face showing the keenness of his
disappointment. Since early morning he had been traveling, even running
at times, and he was tired enough to risk willingly a few dangers for
the sake of sleep and supper. Rod was in even worse condition, though
his trail had been much shorter. For a few moments the two boys looked
at each other in silence, neither attempting to conceal the lack of
favor with which Mukoki's suggestion was received. But Wabi was too wise
openly to oppose the old pathfinder. If Mukoki said that it was
dangerous for them to remain where they were during the night--well, it
was dangerous, and it would be foolish of him to dispute it. He knew
Mukoki to be the greatest hunter of his tribe, a human bloodhound on the
trail, and what he said was law. So with a cheerful grin at Rod, who
needed all the encouragement that could be given to him, Wabi began the
readjustment of the pack which he had flung from his shoulders a few
minutes before.

"Mountain not ver' far. Two--t'ree mile, then camp," encouraged Mukoki.
"Walk slow--have big supper."

Only a few articles had been taken from the toboggan-sled on which the
hunters were dragging the greater part of their equipment into the
wilderness, and Mukoki soon had these packed again. The three
adventurers now took up the new trail along the top of one of those wild
and picturesque ridges which both the Indians and white hunters of this
great Northland call mountains. Wabigoon led, weighted under his pack,
selecting the clearest road for the toboggan and clipping down
obstructing saplings with his keen-edged belt-ax. A dozen feet behind
him followed Mukoki, dragging the sled; and behind the sled, securely
tied with a thong of babeesh, or moose-skin rope, slunk the wolf. Rod,
less experienced in making a trail and burdened with a lighter pack,
formed the rear of the little cavalcade.

Darkness was now falling rapidly. Though Wabigoon was not more than a
dozen yards ahead, Rod could only now and then catch a fleeting vision
of him through