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Updated: May 20, 2025
From the cedars beyond the old cabin came Mukoki's whooping signal that dinner was ready. For a few moments after Rod's words and Mukoki's signal from the cedars Wabigoon sat as if stunned. "It isn't gold," he said, his voice filled with questioning doubt. "That's just what it is!" declared Rod, his words now rising in the excitement which he was vainly striving to suppress.
Hardly had the echoes died away when there came again the reports of Mukoki's rifle. Without another word the two boys hurried to the canoe, which had not been unloaded. "He's a couple of miles down-stream," said Wabi, as they shoved off. "I wonder what's the matter?" "I can make a pretty good guess," replied Rod, his voice trembling with a new excitement. "He has found the second waterfall!"
No sooner were the two boys convinced of the correctness of Mukoki's assertion than another and still more startling surprise was sprung on them. Holding out his handful of bones, Mukoki said: "Meat no cook eat raw!" "Great Scott!" gasped Rod. Wabi's eyes flashed with a new understanding, and as he gazed into Rod's astonished face the latter, too, began to comprehend the significance of it all.
A fourth wolf joined the pack, and a fifth, and half an hour later the trail of three other wolves cut at right angles across the one they were following and disappeared in the direction of the thickly timbered plains. Mukoki's face was crinkled with joy. "Many wolf near," he exclaimed. "Many wolf off there 'n' off there 'n' off there. Good place for night hunt."
At dawn or a little later Mukoki would set out upon Wabi's trap-line, both to become acquainted with it and to extend the line of traps, while later in the day the Indian youth would follow Mukoki's line, visiting the houses already built and setting other traps. This scheme left to Rod the first day's watch in camp.
It brings with it a vivid picture of what happened long ago, the excitement of some other chase, the well-directed shot, and at last the escape of the game. And so it was now. The heads of Rod and Wabigoon hung close over Mukoki's shoulders while the old Indian dug out the bullet with his knife.
"That bullet made of gold!" he breathed, scarcely above a whisper. "No yellow lead. That gold, pure gold!" For a few moments after Mukoki's remarkable discovery the three stood speechless. Wabigoon stared as if he could not bring himself to believe the evidence of his eyes.
The cries came nearer, interspersed with the cracking of Mukoki's whip as he urged on the few lagging dogs that Wabi had left with him upon the trail. In another moment the old warrior and his team burst into view and both of the young hunters hurried to meet him. A glance showed Rod that a little longer and Mukoki would have dropped in his tracks, as Wabi had done.
Mukoki's voice came strangely from out of the gloom. "No man do that! No man no man " "Hush!" commanded Rod. "Now is our time, boys! Quick, get everything to the creek. He's half a mile out on the plain and we can get away before he comes back. I'd rather risk a few rocks than another one of his golden bullets!" "So had I!" cried Wabi.
"But " He stopped, and shrugged his shoulders. "What?" "Well, we're taking it for granted that John Ball is dead. If he is dead why isn't he in the pool? By George, I should think that Mukoki's old superstition would be getting the best of him!" "I believe he is in the pool!" declared Rod. Wabi turned upon him and repeated the words he had spoken to the old warrior half an hour before. "Try it!"
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