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"We fool fool!" "For not bringing dog shoes?" said Wabigoon. "I've got a dozen shoes on my sledge enough for three dogs. By George " He leaped quickly to his toboggan, caught up the dog moccasins, and turned again to the old Indian, alive with new excitement. "We've got just one chance, Muky!" he half shouted. "Pick out the strongest dogs. One of us must go on alone!"
He had not spoken, but now he said: "Mebby going to Post for supplies." "That's exactly what they were doing!" shouted the Indian youth. "Muky, you have solved the whole problem. They were going for supplies. And they didn't fight for the map not for the map alone!" His face flushed with new excitement. "Perhaps I am wrong, but it all seems clear to me now," he continued.
In those two we have again met our old friends Mukoki and Wabigoon: Mukoki, the faithful old warrior and pathfinder, and Wabigoon, the adventurous half-Indian son of the factor of Wabinosh House. Both were at the height of some great excitement. For a few moments, while gaining breath, they gazed silently into each other's face. "I'm afraid we can't catch them, Muky," panted the younger.
We'll have a glorious feast to-night, and a fire of this driftwood that will show you what makes life worth the living up here in the North. Ho, Muky," he called to the old Indian, "cut this fellow up, will you? I'll make camp." "Can we keep the skin?" asked Rod. "It's my first, you know, and " "Of course we can. Give us a hand with the fire, Rod; it will keep you from catching cold."
"Muky and I have tied together every bit of rope and strap in our outfit, even to our gun-slings, and we've got a piece about eighty feet long. We'll show you how to use it after breakfast." It took but a few minutes to dispose of the rather unappetizing repast of cold bear meat, biscuits and water.
The two led their faithful comrade to the heap of bearskins on the mail sled and made him sit there while fresh soup was being made. "You catch heem," grinned Mukoki joyously. "You catch heem queek!" "And pretty nearly killed himself doing it, Muky," added Rod. "Now " he glanced from one to the other of his companions, "what is the first thing to be done?"
"By George, I believe we can peel this!" he cried. "See here, Muky!" He thrust the birch under the old Indian's eyes. Even Mukoki's hands were trembling. "Birch-bark is made up of a good many layers, each as thin as the thinnest paper," he explained to Rod as Mukoki continued his examination.
There had sprung up in Rod's breast a great, human, throbbing sympathy for him, and in the dim candle-glow his eyes glistened with a dampness which he made no attempt to conceal. "What does Mukoki mean by 'wolf night'?" he asked. "Muky is a wizard when it comes to hunting wolves," Wabi went on. "He has studied them and thought of them every day of his life for nearly twenty years.
"What do you think of it, Muky?" "Man shoot powder and ball gun, not cartridge," replied Mukoki slowly. "Old gun. Strange; ver' strange!" "A muzzle loader!" said Wabi. The Indian nodded. "Had powder, no lead. Got hungry; used gold." Eight words had told the story, or at least enough of it to clear away a part of the cloud of mystery, but the other part still remained.
"He is too anxious to become Minnetaki's slave again, Rod. No, Muky won't go, I'll wager that. He will stay at the Post to see that she doesn't get lost, or hurt, or stolen by the Woongas. Eh, Mukoki?" Mukoki nodded, grinning good-humoredly. He went to the door, opened it and looked out. "Devil she snow!" he cried. "She snow like twent' t'ousand like devil!"
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