ms. It at once occurred to him that this was the Kenogami trail, and
impelled by nothing more than curiosity he began to follow it.

Half a mile farther on he found where the party had stopped to cook a
meal. The remains of their camp-fire lay beside a huge log, which was
partly burned away, and about it were scattered bones and bits of bread.
But what most attracted Rod's attention were other tracks which joined
those of the three people on snow-shoes. He was sure that these tracks
had been made by women, for the footprints made by one of them were
unusually small. Close to the log he found a single impression in the
snow that caused his heart to give a sudden unexpected thump within him.
In this spot the snow had been packed by one of the snow-shoes, and in
this comparatively hard surface the footprint was clearly defined. It
had been made by a moccasin. Rod knew that. And the moccasin wore a
slight heel! He remembered, now, that thrilling day in the forest near
Wabinosh House when he had stopped to look at Minnetaki's footprints in
the soft earth through which she had been driven by her Woonga
abductors, and he remembered, too, that she was the only person at the
Post who wore heels on her moccasins. It was a queer coincidence! Could
Minnetaki have been here? Had she made that footprint in the snow?
Impossible, declared the young hunter's better sense. And yet his blood
ran a little faster as he touched the delicate impression with his bare
fingers. It reminded him of Minnetaki, anyway; her foot would have made
just such a trail, and he wondered if the girl who had stepped there was
as pretty as she.

He followed now a little faster than before, and ten minutes later he
came to where a dozen snow-shoe trails had come in from the north and
had joined the three. After meeting, the two parties had evidently
joined forces and had departed over the trail made by those who had
appeared from the direction of the Post.

"Friends from Kenogami House came down to meet them," mused Rod, and as
he turned back in the direction of the camp he formed a picture of that
meeting in the heart of the wilderness, of the glad embraces of husband
and wife, and the joy of the pretty girl with the tiny feet as she
kissed her father, and perhaps her big brother; for no girl could
possess feet just like Minnetaki's and not be pretty!

He found that Wabi had preceded him when he returned. The young Indian
had shot a small doe, and that noon