hose instinct had told him what a mix-up
would mean, had slunk into his shelter without betraying his whereabouts
to this arch-enemy of his tribe.

With the craft of his race, Mukoki was skinning the animal while it was
still warm.

"You go back bed," he said to his companions. "I build big fire
again--then sleep."

The excitement of his adventure at least freed Rod from the
unpleasantness of further dreams, and it was late the following morning
before he awoke again. He was astonished to find that a beautiful sun
was shining. Wabi and the old Indian were already outside preparing
breakfast, and the cheerful whistling of the former assured Rod that
there was now little to be feared from the Woongas. Without lingering to
take a beauty nap he joined them.

Everywhere about them lay white winter. The rocks, the trees, and the
mountain behind them were covered with two feet of snow and upon it the
sun shone with dazzling brilliancy. But it was not until Rod looked into
the north that he saw the wilderness in all of its grandeur. The camp
had been made at the extreme point of the ridge, and stretching away
under his eyes, mile after mile, was the vast white desolation that
reached to Hudson Bay. In speechless wonder he gazed down upon the
unblazed forests, saw plains and hills unfold themselves as his vision
gained distance, followed a river until it was lost in the bewildering
picture, and let his eyes rest here and there upon the glistening,
snow-smothered bosoms of lakes, rimmed in by walls of black forest. This
was not the wilderness as he had expected it to be, nor as he had often
read of it in books. It was beautiful! It was magnificent! His heart
throbbed with pleasure as he gazed down on it, the blood rose to his
face in an excited flush, and he seemed hardly to breathe in his tense
interest.

Mukoki had come up beside him softly, and spoke in his low guttural
voice.

"Twent' t'ousand moose down there--twent' t'ousand caribou-oo! No
man--no house--more twent' t'ousand miles!"

Roderick, even trembling in his new emotion, looked into the old
warrior's face. In Mukoki's eyes there was a curious, thrilling gleam.
He stared straight out into the unending distance as though his keen
vision would penetrate far beyond the last of that visible
desolation--on and on, even to the grim and uttermost fastnesses of
Hudson Bay. Wabi came up and placed his hand on Rod's shoulder.

"Muky was born off there," he said. "Awa