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Updated: June 14, 2025
Suddenly, at the very end of that rock, something moved. Some object was creeping cautiously upon the sleeping camp! For a moment his thrilling discovery froze the young hunter into inaction. But in a moment the whole situation flashed upon him. The Woongas had followed them! They were about to fall upon the helpless camp!
Crouched over until his eyes were within a foot of the snow the old pathfinder examined every inch of the little clearing in which the Woongas had built their fire, and when at last he drew himself erect his face betrayed the utmost astonishment. The boys saw that in those faint marks in the snow he had discovered something of unusual if not startling significance.
I'll kill him dead in one shot!" They could hear the voices of the outlaws now, and soon they saw that Wabi's face was disfigured with blood. Step by step, slowly and carelessly, the Woongas approached. They were fifty yards from the marked birch now forty thirty now only ten. Roderick's rifle was at his shoulder. Already it held a deadly bead on the breast of the leader. Five yards more
He almost hoped the Woongas would dare to attempt a descent, for he was sure that he and Wabi would have them at a terrible disadvantage and with their revolvers and three rifles could inflict a decisive blow upon them before they reached the bottom. But he saw no sign of their enemies.
What if Mukoki had made a mistake? His confidence in the old warrior's judgment and sagacity was usually absolute, but it occurred to him, like an ugly humor to stir up his fears, that if the Woongas could cut off a bit of the girl's hair they could also take off one of her shoes!
He was astonished to find how swiftly and easily he could travel in them, and was satisfied that he could make twenty miles a day even as a tenderfoot. Left to his own thoughts he found his mind recurring once more to the Woongas and Minnetaki. Why was Wabi worried? Inwardly he did not believe that it was a dream alone that was troubling him. There was still some cause for fear.
"We lose pine in five minutes. No find Woonga camp make big trail for Woongas to see in morning. Better wait. Follow um trail in day, then shoot!" Rod found immense relief in the old Indian's decision. He did not fear a fight; in fact, he was a little too anxious to meet the outlaws who had stolen his gun, now that they had determined upon opening fire on sight.
"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!"
Across the plain at their feet the three adventurers had raced for their lives from the bloodthirsty Woongas only a week or so before; now they crossed it a second time and at even greater speed, for then they had possessed no dogs. At the end of another hour Mukoki no longer traveled faster than a walk. His eyes were constantly on the alert.
Over the moose-run the two traveled more swiftly and soon they came to the foot of the high hill. Up this the Woongas had gone, their trail clearly defined and unswerving in its direction. Mukoki now paused with a warning gesture to Rod, and pointed down at one of the snow-shoe tracks. The snow was still crumbling and falling about the edges of this imprint. "Ver' close!" whispered the Indian.
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