egan his work of digging out and resetting the
traps, but it was not until the day following that Rod's eyes would
allow him to assist. The task was a most difficult one; rocks and other
landmarks were completely hidden, and the lost traps averaged one out of
four. It was not until the end of the second day after Mukoki's
departure that the young hunters finished the mountain trap-line, and
when they turned their faces toward camp just at the beginning of dusk
it was with the expectant hope that they would find the old Indian
awaiting them. But Mukoki had not returned. The next day came and
passed, and a fourth dawned without his arrival. Hope now gave way to
fear. In three days Mukoki could travel nearly a hundred miles. Was it
possible that something had happened to him? Many times there recurred
to Rod a thought of the Woonga in the chasm. Had the mysterious spy, or
some of his people, waylaid and killed him?

Neither of the hunters had a desire to leave camp during the fourth day.
Trapping was exceptionally good now on account of the scarcity of animal
food and since the big storm they had captured a wolf, two lynx, a red
fox and eight mink. But as Mukoki's absence lengthened their enthusiasm
grew less.

In the afternoon, as they were watching, they saw a figure climb wearily
to the summit of the hill.

It was Mukoki.

With shouts of greeting both youths hurried through the snow toward him,
not taking time to strap on their snow-shoes. The old Indian was at
their side a couple of minutes later. He smiled in a tired good-natured
way, and answered the eagerness in their eyes with a nod of his head.

"Found fall. Fift' mile down mountain."

Once in the cabin he dropped into a chair, exhausted, and both Rod and
Wabigoon joined in relieving him of his boots and outer garments. It was
evident that Mukoki had been traveling hard, for only once or twice
before in his life had Wabi seen him so completely fatigued. Quickly the
young Indian had a huge steak broiling over the fire, and Rod put an
extra handful of coffee in the pot.

"Fifty miles!" ejaculated Wabi for the twentieth time. "It was an awful
jaunt, wasn't it, Muky?"

"Rough--rough like devil th'ough mountains," replied Mukoki. "Not like
that!" He swung an arm in the direction of the chasm.

Rod stood silent, open-eyed with wonder. Was it possible that the old
warrior had discovered a wilder country than that through which he had
passed in the chasm?

"S