the wolf trail. A little way on Rod found part of
the carcass of a rabbit with fox tracks about it. Here Mukoki set
another trap. A little farther still they came across a fisher trail and
another trap was laid. Caribou and deer tracks crossed and recrossed the
creek, but the Indian paid little attention to them. A fourth wolf
joined the pack, and a fifth, and half an hour later the trail of three
other wolves cut at right angles across the one they were following and
disappeared in the direction of the thickly timbered plains. Mukoki's
face was crinkled with joy.

"Many wolf near," he exclaimed. "Many wolf off there 'n' off there 'n'
off there. Good place for night hunt."

Soon the creek swung out from the ridge and cut a circuitous channel
through a small swamp. Here there were signs of wild life which set
Rod's heart thumping and his blood tingling with excitement. In places
the snow was literally packed with deer tracks. Trails ran in every
direction, the bark had been rubbed from scores of saplings, and every
step gave fresh evidence of the near presence of game. The stealth with
which Mukoki now advanced was almost painful. Every twig was pressed
behind him noiselessly, and once when Rod struck his snow-shoe against
the butt of a small tree the old Indian held up his hands in mock
horror. Ten minutes, fifteen--twenty of them passed in this cautious,
breathless trailing of the swamp.

Suddenly Mukoki stopped, and a hand was held out behind him warningly.
He turned his face back, and Rod knew that he saw game. Inch by inch he
crouched upon his snow-shoes, and beckoned for Rod to approach, slowly,
quietly. When the boy had come near enough he passed back his rifle, and
his lips formed the almost noiseless word, "Shoot!"

Tremblingly Rod seized the gun and looked into the swamp ahead, Mukoki
doubling down in front of him. What he saw sent him for a moment into
the first nervous tremor of buck fever. Not more than a hundred yards
away stood a magnificent buck browsing the tips of a clump of hazel, and
just beyond him were two does. With a powerful effort Rod steadied
himself. The buck was standing broadside, his head and neck stretched
up, offering a beautiful shot at the vital spot behind his fore leg. At
this the young hunter aimed and fired. With one spasmodic bound the
animal dropped dead.

Hardly had Rod seen the effect of his shot before Mukoki was traveling
swiftly toward the fallen game, unstrapping his p