"Moving where?" demanded Dick, bitterly. But the old man led forward the
hound.

"Remember the lake where we lost the track of that Chippewa?" he
inquired. "Well, a foot of light snow is nothing. Mush on, Mack!"

The hound sniffed deep, filling his nostrils with the feather snow,
which promptly he sneezed out. Then he swung off easily on his little
dog-trot, never at fault, never hesitant, picking up the turns and
twistings of the Indian's newer purpose as surely as a mind-reader the
concealed pin.

[Illustration: The hound sniffed deep, filling his nostrils with the
feather snow]

For Jingoss had been awaiting eagerly this fall of snow, as this
immediate change of direction showed. He was sure that now they could no
longer follow him. It was for this he had lured them farther and
farther into the wilderness, waiting for the great enemy of them all to
cover his track, to throw across his vanishing figure her ultimate
denial of their purposes. At once, convinced of his safety, he turned to
the west and southwest.

At just what moment he discovered that he was still followed it was
impossible to determine. But very shortly a certain indecision could be
read in the signs of his journeying. He turned to the south, changed his
mind, doubled on his tracks like a rabbit, finally, his purpose decided,
he shot away on the direct line again for the frozen reaches of
desolation in the north.

The moment's flicker of encouragement lighted by the success of the dog,
fell again to blackness as the three faced further incursion into the
land of starvation. They had allowed themselves for a moment to believe
that the Indian might now have reached the limit of his intention; that
now he might turn toward a chance at least of life. But this showed that
his purpose, or obstinacy or madness remained unchanged, and this newer
proof indicated that it possessed a depth of determination that might
lead to any extreme. They had to readjust themselves to the idea.
Perforce they had to extend their faith, had to believe in the caribou
herds. From every little rise they looked abroad, insisting on a
childish confidence in the existence of game. They could not afford to
take the reasonable view, could not afford to estimate the chances
against their encountering in all that vastness of space the single
pin-point where grazed abundance.

From time to time, thereafter, the snow fell. On the mere fact of their
persistence it had litle effect;