followed a moose trail, with which they were apparently well
acquainted, and in this traveling was easy. But Rod gave an involuntary
shudder as he gazed ahead into the chaotic tangle through which it led.
At any moment he expected to hear the sharp crack of a rifle and to see
Mukoki tumble forward upon his face. Or there might be a fusillade of
shots and he himself might feel the burning sting that comes with rifle
death. At the distance from which they would shoot the outlaws could not
miss. Did not Mukoki realize this? Maddened by the thought that his
beloved Wabi was in the hands of merciless enemies, was the old
pathfinder becoming reckless?

But when he looked into his companion's face and saw the cool deadly
resolution glittering in his eyes, the youth's confidence was restored.
For some reason Mukoki knew that there would not be an ambush.

Over the moose-run the two traveled more swiftly and soon they came to
the foot of the high hill. Up this the Woongas had gone, their trail
clearly defined and unswerving in its direction. Mukoki now paused with
a warning gesture to Rod, and pointed down at one of the snow-shoe
tracks. The snow was still crumbling and falling about the edges of this
imprint.

"Ver' close!" whispered the Indian.

It was not the light of the game hunt in Mukoki's eyes now; there was a
trembling, terrible tenseness in his whispered words. He crept up the
hill with Rod so near that he could have touched him. At the summit of
that hill he dragged himself up like an animal, and then, crouching, ran
swiftly to the opposite side, his rifle within six inches of his
shoulder. In the plain below them was unfolded to their eyes a scene
which, despite his companion's warning, wrung an exclamation of dismay
from Roderick's lips.

[Illustration: The leader stopped in his snow-shoes]

Plainly visible to them in the edge of the plain were the outlaw Woongas
and their captive. They were in single file, with Wabi following the
leader, and the hunters perceived that their comrade's arms were tied
behind him.

But it was another sight that caused Rod's dismay.

From an opening beside a small lake half a mile beyond the Indians below
there rose the smoke of two camp-fires, and Mukoki and he could make out
at least a score of figures about these fires.

Within rifle-shot of them, almost within shouting distance, there was
not only the small war party that had attacked the camp, but a third of
the fightin