Even the presence of a rival team failed to arouse them from their lethargy.

One might have thought that death had overtaken them upon the trail were it not for their panting sides and lolling tongues.
"He's not hurt!" exclaimed the driver, "see the dogs! He's been running--running until he dropped in his tracks!" The assurance brought but little comfort to Rod.

He could feel the tremble of returning life in Wabi's body now, but the sight of the exhausted and bleeding dogs and the memory of his comrade's last words had filled him with a new and terrible fear.

What had happened to Minnetaki?
Why had the factor's son come all this distance for him?
Why had he pursued the mail until his dogs were nearly dead, and he himself had fallen unconscious in his tracks?
Was Minnetaki dead?
Had the Woongas killed Wabi's beautiful little sister?
Again and again he implored his friend to speak to him, until the courier pushed him back and carried Wabi to the mail sled.
"Hustle up there to that bunch of spruce and build a fire," he commanded.

"We've got to get something hot into him, and rub him down, and roll him in furs.