stood in silent watchfulness. Suddenly Rod asked:

"Where is Wolf?"

Wabi laughed, softly, exultantly.

"Gone back to his people, Rod. He will be crying in the wild hunt-pack
to-night. Good old Wolf!" The laugh left his lips and there was a
tremble of regret in his voice. "The Woongas came from the back of the
cabin--took me by surprise--and we had it hot and heavy for a few
minutes. We fell back where Wolf was tied and just as I knew they'd got
me sure I cut his babeesh with the knife I had in my hand."

"Didn't he show fight?"

"For a minute. Then one of the Indians shot, at him and he hiked off
into the woods."

"Queer they didn't wait for Mukoki and me," mused Rod. "Why didn't they
ambush us?"

"Because they didn't want you, and they were sure they'd reach their
camp before you took up the trail. I was their prize. With me in their
power they figured on communicating with you and Mukoki and sending you
back to the Post with their terms. They would have bled father to his
last cent--and then killed me. Oh, they talked pretty plainly to me when
they thought they had me!"

There came a noise from above them and the young hunters held their
rifles in readiness. Nearer and nearer came the crashing sound, until a
small boulder shot past them into the chasm.

"They're up there," grinned Wabi, lowering his gun. "That was an
accident, but you'd better keep your eyes open. I'll bet the whole tribe
feel like murdering the fellow who rolled over that stone!"

He crept cautiously back to Mukoki, and Rod crouched with his face to
the narrow trail leading down from the top of the mountain. Deep shadows
were beginning to lurk among the trees and he was determined that any
movement there would draw his fire. Fifteen minutes later Wabi returned,
eating ravenously at a big hind quarter of broiled rabbit.

"I've had my coffee," he greeted. "Go back and eat and drink, and build
the fire up high. Don't mind me when I shoot. I am going to fire just to
let the Woongas know we are on guard, and after that we'll hustle for
that break in the mountain."

Rod found Mukoki with a chunk of rabbit in one hand and a cup of coffee
in the other. The wounded Indian smiled with something like the old
light in his eyes and a mighty load was lifted from Rod's heart.

"You're better?" he asked.

"Fine!" replied Mukoki. "No much hurt. Good fight some more. Wabi say,
'No, you stay.'" His face became a map of grimaces to show his
disapprova