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At the foot of the hill he abandoned the outlaw trail and Rod realized that his plan was to sweep swiftly in a semicircle, surprising the Woongas from the front or side instead of approaching from the rear. Again he was taxed to his utmost to keep pace with the avenging Mukoki.
Wabi and Mukoki had just come through the door after bearing out one of their gruesome loads, and the young Indian hurried to his side. He weighed one of the pieces in the palm of his hand. "It's lead, or " "Gold!" breathed Rod. He could hear his own heart thumping as Wabi jumped back to the light of the door, his sheath-knife in his hand.
His own belief that the third and last fall was not far distant, in spite of the evidence of the map, gradually gained possession of his companions, and the nerves of all three were keyed to the highest tension of expectancy. The preceding night Mukoki had made himself a paddle to replace the one he had broken, and not a stroke of the three pairs of arms was lost.
His first sense of life was that something very heavy was upon his stomach, and that he was being rubbed, and pummeled, and rolled about as if he had become the plaything of a great bear. Then he saw Mukoki, and then Wabigoon. "You go build fire," he heard Mukoki say, and he could hear Wabi running swiftly shoreward. For he knew that they were still upon the ice.
Wabi met him in the doorway, grinning broadly, and Mukoki greeted him with a throatful of his inimitable chuckles. "Aha, here's Rod with a packful of gold!" cried the young Indian, striking an expectant attitude. "Will you let us see the treasure?" In spite of his banter there was gladness in his face at Rod's arrival.
Several times Mukoki stopped and leaned perilously close to the dizzy edge of the mountain, peering down with critical eyes, and once when he pulled himself back cautiously by means of a small sapling he explained his interest by saying: "Plenty bear there in spring!" But Rod was not thinking of bears. Once more his head was filled with the thought of gold.
The first flash of enthusiasm that had filled Wabigoon on reading the paper discovered by Rod was quickly passing away, and the white youth could not but notice the change which came over both Mukoki and his young friend when they stood once more beside the smooth white stub that reached up to the floor of the chasm above.
Once in a great while when the night is just right, when the moon is shining and it is bitter cold, Mukoki seems to go a little mad. He calls this a 'wolf night. No one can stop him from going out; no one can get him to talk; he will allow no one to accompany him when in such a mood. He will walk miles and miles to-night. But he will come back.
Mukoki had paused for a moment and Rod, unconscious of the fact, continued on his journey until he tumbled in a sprawling heap over the sled, knocking Mukoki's legs completely from under him in his fall. When Wabi ran back he found Rod flattened out, face downward, and Mukoki entangled in his site harness on top of him. In a way this accident was fortunate.
In another moment the three wolf hunters were together, silently wringing one another's hands, the death-like pallor of Rod's face and the tense lines in the bronzed countenances of Mukoki and Wabigoon plainly showing the tremendous strain they had been under. "You shoot?" whispered Mukoki. "No!" replied Wabi, his eyes widening in surprise. "Didn't you shoot?" "No!"
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