st, fastening it securely under his arms.

The thing had been done so rapidly, that from the moment when the
Indian's shape darkened the doorway till that when the whole party moved
noiselessly down the valley with their captive in their midst, the thin
shadow of a rampike falling on the moonlit space in front of the tepee
had scarcely shifted its black finger an inch towards the east.

In spite of the fact that it was night, the Indians travelled quickly,
owing to the moonlight. It was only under the trees, or in the shadow of
some great rock, that the darkness made it necessary to slacken the
pace. As they went, Dusty Star kept listening backward along the trail.
Suppose, at the last moment, Kiopo should have returned? Finding the hut
empty, Dusty Star knew that he would start instantly in pursuit. But
suppose he did not come back in time to get the scent before it faded
from the trail? Even _his_ fine nose would not serve him on a cold
trail. Once only, when they were nearing the end of the valley, Dusty
Star caught a faint wolf-howl very far behind; but whether this was
Kiopo's voice or not, it was impossible to say.

It was evident that the Indians had some idea that the wolf might follow
them, for it was plain, by the speed with which they were travelling,
that they were anxious to push on with the least possible delay. They
were among the spruce woods now, and the air was full of the
unmistakable smell of the trees, with that peculiar tang one could never
forget. They travelled in single file. Even when it was so dark that
Dusty Star could scarcely see his captors before, or behind, the
deer-skin thong about his chest was always there to prove their presence
as it tightened or slackened according to the pace, or the unevenness of
the ground.

At dawn, they reached the thin edges of the forest. Dusty Star's heart
sank. If Kiopo had caught them up in the thick woods, there would have
been some chance of escape under cover of his whirlwind method of attack
which would have suggested a pack of wolves rather than one. But now, in
the more open country and the growing light, this would not be possible.

The Indians quickened their pace. In the day-light, Dusty Star
recognised them as belonging to the same tribe as those who had followed
him and Kiopo a few days earlier; Yellow Dogs every man of them, under
the leadership of Double Runner.

It was near noon before they reached the head of a long lake. Dusty Star
c