to exchange for supplies. Would they, at the same time, dare to have
in their possession a map so closely defining their trail as the rude
sketch on the bit of birch bark? Was there not some strange key, known
only to themselves, necessary to the understanding of that sketch?

Mukoki had taken his rifle and disappeared in the plain along the
river, and for a long time after they had eaten their bear steak and
drank their hot coffee Rod and Wabigoon sat talking in the glow of
the camp-fire. The old warrior had been gone for about an hour when
suddenly there came the report of a gun from far down the stream,
which was quickly followed by two others--three in rapid succession.
After an interval of a few seconds there sounded two other shots.

"The signal!" cried Rod. "Mukoki wants us!"

Wabigoon sprang to his feet and emptied the five shots of his magazine
into the air.

"Listen!"

Hardly had the echoes died away when there came again the reports of
Mukoki's rifle.

Without another word the two boys hurried to the canoe, which had not
been unloaded.

"He's a couple of miles down-stream," said Wabi, as they shoved off.
"I wonder what's the matter?"

"I can make a pretty good guess," replied Rod, his voice trembling
with a new excitement. "He has found the second waterfall!"

The thought gave fresh strength to their aching arms and the canoe
sped swiftly down the stream. Fifteen minutes later another shot
signaled to them, this time not more than a quarter of a mile away,
and Wabi responded to it with a loud shout. Mukoki's voice floated
back in an answering halloo, but before the young hunters came within
sight of their comrade another sound reached their ears,--the muffled
roar of a cataract! Again and again the boys sent their shouts of joy
echoing through the night, and above the tumult of their own voices
they heard the old warrior calling on them to put into shore. Mukoki
was waiting for them when they landed.

"This is big un!" he greeted. "Mak' much noise, much swift water!"

"Hurrah!" yelled Rod for the twentieth time, jumping up and down in
his excitement.

"Hurrah!" cried Wabi.

And Mukoki chuckled, and grinned, and rubbed his leathery hands
together in high glee.

At last, when they had somewhat cooled down, Wabi said:

"That John Ball was a pretty poor fellow at a guess, eh? What do you
say, Rod?"

"Or else pretty clever," added Rod. "By George, I wonder if he had a
reason for making his s