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Rod was deathly white and breathing so hard that he could not speak. The quick-witted Wabi at once realized their situation. "There is just one thing for us to do, Muky. We must stop the Woongas at the dip. We'll fire down upon them from the top of the hill beyond the lake. We can drop three or four of them and they won't dare to come straight after us then.
To attack the outlaws in an effort to rescue Wabi meant that an overwhelming force would be upon them within a few minutes; to allow Wabi to remain a captive meant he shuddered at the thought of what it might mean, for he knew of the merciless vengeance of the Woongas upon the House of Wabinosh.
He was sure that the Woongas knew that Wabi was the son of the factor of Wabinosh House. Therefore they would make every effort to recapture him, even though they had to follow far and a dozen lives were lost before that feat was accomplished. A movement in the snow across the valley caught Rod's eyes. He straightened himself, and his breath came quickly. Two figures had appeared in the open.
He realized the peril of his dilemma, and yet he knew not what course to take to evade it. He had little doubt that the trail was made by one of the treacherous Woongas, and that the Indian not only knew of his presence, but was somewhere in the rocks ahead of him, perhaps even now waiting behind some ambuscade to shoot him.
Wabi's description of the manner in which the strange trail turned gave great satisfaction to Mukoki, who nodded affirmatively when the young hunter expressed it as his belief that the Woongas would not come so far as their camp. But the discovery of their presence chilled the buoyant spirits of the hunters.
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.
Only two things filled his soul. One of these was love for Minnetaki; the other was love for Wabigoon. And there was only one other thing that could take the place of these, and that was merciless, undying, savage passion passion at any wrong or injury that might be done to them. The Woongas had sneaked upon Wabi. He knew that.
But they were not! They were made by Woongas! "One of the guides, who escaped with a severe wound, brought the news to us last night, and the doctor at the Post says that his hurt is fatal and that he will not live another day. Everything depends on you. You and the dying guide are the only two who know where to find the place where the attack was made.
All that day and night the hunters remained in camp, sleeping, eating and taking care of Mukoki's wound, but the next morning saw them ready for their homeward journey with the coming of dawn. They struck due westward now, satisfied that they were well beyond the range of the outlaw Woongas.
"What is it, Muky?" asked the young Indian. Mukoki made no reply, but returning to the charred remains of the fire he again fell upon his hands and knees and repeated his strange scrutiny of the snow even more closely than before. When he arose a second time the astonishment had grown deeper in his face. "Only six!" he exclaimed. "Two guides from Post four Woongas!"
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