"Mukoki will show us the shortest cut to it.

After that, after we reach the camp, everything will depend upon you." Rod fell behind in the path made by the sledge, and saved his breath.
His mind was working as never before in his life.

When they reached the camp in which the wounded Mukoki had lain after their escape from the Woongas, could he find the old trail where he had seen Minnetaki's footprints?
He was quite sure of himself, and yet he was conscious of an indefinable something growing in him as he noticed more and more what the sun had done that day.

Was it nervousness, or fear?
Surely he could find the trail, even though it was almost obliterated! But he wished that it had been Mukoki or Wabigoon who had discovered it, either of whom, with the woodcraft instinct born in them, would have gone to it as easily as a fox to the end of a strong trail hidden in autumn leaves.

If he did fail--He shuddered, even as he ran, as he thought of the fate that awaited Minnetaki.