ifle, but not for an instant did his spellbound eyes leave the
spectacle below him. Two other animals had joined those in the open. He
could see the sun glistening on their long antlers as they tossed their
heads in their amazing antics. Now three or four of them would dash away
with the speed of the wind, as though the deadliest of enemies were
close behind them. Two or three hundred yards away they would stop with
equal suddenness, whirl about in a circle, as though flight were
interrupted on all sides of them, then tear back with lightning speed to
rejoin the herd. In twos and threes and fours they performed these
evolutions again and again. But there was another antic that held Rod's
eyes, and if it had not been so new and wonderful to him he would have
laughed, as Wabi was doing--silently--behind him. From out of the herd
would suddenly dash one of the agile creatures, whirl about, jump and
kick, and finally bounce up and down on all four feet, as though
performing a comedy sketch in pantomime for the amusement of its
companions; and when this was done it would start out in another mad
flight, with others of the herd at its heels.

"They are the funniest, swiftest, and shrewdest animals in the North,"
said Wabi. "They can smell you over a mountain if the wind is right, and
hear you for half a mile. Look!"

He pointed downward over Rod's shoulder. Mukoki had already reached the
base of the ridge and was stealing straight out in the direction of the
caribou. Rod gave a surprised gasp.

"Great Scott! They'll see him, won't they?" he cried.

"Not if Mukoki knows himself," smiled the Indian youth. "Remember that
we are looking down on things. Everything seems clear and open to us,
while in reality it's quite thick down there. I'll bet Muky can't see
one hundred yards ahead of him. He has got his bearings and will go as
straight as though he was on a blazed trail; but he won't see the
caribou until he conies to the edge of the open."

Each minute now added to Rod's excitement. Each of those minutes brought
the old warrior nearer his game. Seldom, thought Rod, had such a scene
been unfolded to the eyes of a white boy. The complete picture--the
playful rompings of the dumb children of the wilderness; the stealthy
approach of the old Indian; every rock, every tree that was to play its
part--all were revealed to their eyes. Not a phase in this drama in wild
life escaped them. Five minutes, ten, fifteen passed. They could