the time he had finished the Woongas had
separated and were running to the right and the left of him. For the
last time he looked at his watch. Wabi and Mukoki had been gone
thirty-five minutes.

The boy crept back from his rock, straightened himself, and followed in
their trail. He mentally calculated that it would be ten minutes before
the Woongas, coming up from the sides and rear, would discover his
flight, and by that time he would have nearly a mile the start of them.
He saw, without stopping, where Wabi had dressed Mukoki's wound. There
were spots of blood and a red rag upon the snow. Half a mile farther on
the two had paused again, and this time he knew that Mukoki had stopped
to rest. From now on they had rested every quarter of a mile or so, and
soon Roderick saw them toiling slowly through the snow ahead of him.

He ran up, panting, anxious.

"How--" he began.

Wabi looked at him grimly.

"How much farther, Rod?" he asked.

"Not more than half a mile."

Wabi motioned for him to take Mukoki's other arm.

"He has bled a good deal," he said. There was a hardness in his voice
that made Rod shudder, and he caught his breath as Wabi shot him a
meaning glance behind the old warrior's doubled shoulders.

They went faster now, almost carrying their wounded comrade between
them. Suddenly, Wabi paused, threw his rifle to his shoulder, and fired.
A few yards ahead a huge white rabbit kicked in his death struggles in
the snow.

"If we do reach the chasm Mukoki must have something to eat," he said.

"We'll reach it!" gasped Rod. "We'll reach it! There's the woods. We go
down there!"

They almost ran, with Mukoki's snow-shod feet dragging between them, and
five minutes later they were carrying the half-unconscious Indian down
the steep side of the mountain. At its foot Wabi turned, and his eyes
flashed with vengeful hatred.

"Now, you devils!" he shouted up defiantly. "Now!"

Mukoki aroused himself for a few moments and Rod helped him back to the
shelter of the chasm wall. He found a nook between great masses of rock,
almost clear of snow, and left him there while he hurried back to
Wabigoon.

"You stand on guard here, Rod," said the latter. "We must cook that
rabbit and get some life back into Mukoki. I think he has stopped
bleeding, but I am going to look again. The wound isn't fatal, but it
has weakened him. If we can get something hot into him I believe he will
be able to walk again. Did you have any