cabin!"

They were interrupted by Mukoki.

"Dinner ready!" he called.

CHAPTER XIII

SNOWED IN

Until the present moment Rod had forgotten to speak of the mysterious
man-trail he had encountered in the chasm. The excitement of the past
hour had made him oblivious to all other things, but now as they ate
their dinner he described the strange maneuvers of the spying Woonga. He
did not, however, voice those fears which had come to him in the gorge,
preferring to allow Mukoki and Wabigoon to draw their own conclusions.
By this time the two Indians were satisfied that the Woongas were not
contemplating attack, but that for some unaccountable reason they were
as anxious to evade the hunters as the hunters were to evade them.
Everything that had passed seemed to give evidence of this. The outlaw
in the chasm, for instance, could easily have waylaid Rod; a dozen times
the almost defenseless camp could have been attacked, and there were
innumerable places where ambushes might have been laid for them along
the trap-lines.

So Rod's experience with the Woonga trail between the mountains
occasioned little uneasiness, and instead of forming a scheme for the
further investigation of this trail on the south, plans were made for
locating the first fall. Mukoki was the swiftest and most tireless
traveler on snow-shoes, and it was he who volunteered to make the first
search. He would leave the following morning, taking with him a supply
of food, and during his absence Rod and Wabigoon would attend to the
traps.

"We must have the location of the first fall before we return to the
Post," declared Wabi. "If from that we find that the third fall is not
within a hundred miles of our present camp it will be impossible for us
to go in search of our gold during this trip. In that event we shall
have to go back to Wabinosh House and form a new expedition, with fresh
supplies and the proper kind of tools. We can not do anything until the
spring freshets are over, anyway."

"I have been thinking of that," replied Rod, his eyes softening. "You
know mother is alone, and--her--"

"I understand," interrupted the Indian boy, laying a hand fondly across
his companion's arm.

"--her funds are small, you know," Rod finished. "If she has been
sick--or--anything like that--"

"Yes, we've got to get back with our furs," helped Wabi, a tremor of
tenderness in his own voice. "And if you don't mind, Rod, I might take a
little run down to