For an hour after that, until the gray shadows of night began settling about them, the three waded up the shallow stream, pulling the canoe and its unconscious burden after them.

That night the madman was not left unwatched for a minute.
Mukoki sat beside him until eleven o'clock.

Then Wabi took his turn.

A little after midnight Rod was aroused by being violently pulled from his bed of balsam boughs.
"For the love of Heaven, get up!" whispered the young Indian.

"He's talking, Rod! He's talking about Dolores, and about some kind of a great beast that's bigger than anything that ever lived up here! Listen!" The madman was moaning softly.
"I've killed it, Dolores--I've killed it--killed it! Where is Dolores?
Where--is--" There came a deep sigh, and John Ball was quiet.
"Killed what ?" panted Rod, his heart thumping until it choked him.
"The beast--whatever it was," whispered Wabi.