ade an especially good dash
and enjoying themselves immensely when he took one of his frequent
tumbles into the snow. By noon Rod secretly believed that he was
becoming quite an adept.

Although the day in camp was an exceedingly pleasant one for Rod, he
could not but observe that at times something seemed to be troubling
Wabi. Twice he discovered the Indian youth alone within the shelter
sitting in silent and morose dejection, and finally he insisted upon an
explanation.

"I want you to tell me what the trouble is, Wabi," he demanded. "What
has gone wrong?"

Wabi jumped to his feet with a little laugh.

"Did you ever have a dream that bothered you, Rod?" he asked. "Well, I
had one last night, and since then--somehow--I can't keep from worrying
about the people back at the Post, and especially about Minnetaki. It's
all--what do you call it--bosh? Listen! Wasn't that Mukoki's whistle?"

As he paused Mukoki came running around the end of the rock.

"See fun!" he cried softly. "Quick--see heem quick!"

He turned and darted toward the precipitous edge of the ridge, closely
followed by the two boys.

"Cari-boo-oo!" he whispered excitedly as they came up beside him.
"Cari-boo-oo--making big play!"

He pointed down into the snowy wilderness. Three-quarters of a mile
away, though to Rod apparently not more than a third of that distance
from where they stood, half a dozen animals were disporting themselves
in a singular fashion in a meadow-like opening between the mountain and
a range of forest. It was Rod's first real glimpse of that wonderful
animal of the North of which he had read so much, the caribou--commonly
known beyond the Sixtieth Degree as the reindeer; and at this moment
those below him were indulging in the queer play known in the Hudson Bay
regions as the "caribou dance."

"What's the matter with them?" he asked, his voice quivering with
excitement. "What--"

"Making big fun!" chuckled Mukoki, drawing the boy closer to the rock
that concealed them.

Wabi had thrust a finger in his mouth and now held it above his head,
the Indian's truest guide for discovering the direction of the wind. The
lee side of his finger remained cold and damp, while that side upon
which the breeze fell was quickly dried.

"The wind is toward us, Muky," he announced. "There's a fine chance for
a shot. You go! Rod and I will stay here and watch you."

Roderick heard--knew that Mukoki was creeping back to the camp for his
r