Once Wabigoon spoke again of Wolf, and for an instant the old Indian, who was in the bow, half turned to them, and for two strokes his paddle rested in mid air.

From the stern Wabi reached forward and poked Rod, and the white youth understood.

Next to Minnetaki and Wabigoon, and perhaps himself, he knew that the faithful pathfinder loved Wolf best, and that; he was filled with a little of that savage madness which came to him now and then when he dwelt on the terrible tragedy that had entered his life many years before.

When the hunters reached the end of their canoe journey up the stream Mukoki silently shouldered his pack and set out over the plain.

He spoke no word, made no sign.
"It would be useless," said Wabigoon, as Rod made a movement as if to follow and stop their comrade.