t shoulder. "She--no--bad."
He smiled, courage gleaming with pain in his eyes, and swung off the
light pack of furs. "We give 'em--devil--here!"

Crouching, they peered over the edge of the hill. Half a dozen Woongas
had already left the cedars and were following swiftly across the open.
Others broke from the cover, and Wabi saw that a number of them were
without snow-shoes. He exultantly drew Mukoki's attention to this fact,
but the latter did not lift his eyes. In a few moments he spoke.

"Now we give 'em--devil!"

Eight pursuers on snow-shoes were in the open of the dip. Six of them
had reached the lake. Rod held his fire. He knew that it was now more
important for him to recover his wind than to fight, and he drew great
drafts of air into his lungs while his two comrades leveled their
rifles. He could fire after they were done if it was necessary.

There was slow deadly deliberation in the way Mukoki and Wabigoon
sighted along their rifle-barrels. Mukoki fired first; one shot,
two--with a second's interval between--and an outlaw half-way across the
lake pitched forward into the snow. As he fell, Wabi fired once, and
there came to their ears shriek after shriek of agony as a second
pursuer fell with a shattered leg. At the cries and shots of battle the
hot blood rushed through Rod's veins, and with an excited shout of
defiance he brought his rifle to his shoulder and in unison the three
guns sent fire and death into the dip below.

Only three of the eight Woongas remained and they had turned and were
running toward the shelter of the cedars.

"Hurrah!" shouted Rod.

In his excitement he got upon his feet and sent his fifth and last shot
after the fleeing outlaws. "Hurrah! Wow! Let's go after 'em!"

"Get down!" commanded Wabi. "Load in a hurry!"

Clink--clink--clink sounded the new shells as Mukoki and Wabigoon thrust
them into their magazines. Five seconds more and they were sending a
terrific fusillade of shots into the edge of the cedars--ten in all--and
by the time he had reloaded his own gun Rod could see nothing to shoot
at.

"That will hold them for a while," spoke Wabi. "Most of them came in too
big a hurry, and without their snow-shoes, Muky. We'll beat them to the
chasm--easy!" He put an arm around the shoulders of the old Indian, who
was still lying upon his face in the snow. "Let me see, Muky--let me
see--"

"Chasm first," replied Mukoki. "She no bad. No hit bone. No
bleed--much."

From beh