"I'm--bushed--" The young Indian dropped his rifle and knelt beside the wounded boy, supporting his head against his own heaving shoulders.
"It's only a little farther, Rod," he urged.

"We can make it, and take to a tree.

We ought to have taken to a tree back there, but I didn't know that you were so far gone; and there was a good chance to make camp, with three cartridges left for the open lake." "Only three!" "That's all, but I ought to make two of them count in this light.

Here, take hold of my shoulders! Quick!" He doubled himself like a jack-knife in front of his half-prostrate companion.

From behind them there came a sudden chorus of the wolves, louder and clearer than before.
"They've hit the open and we'll have them on the lake inside of two minutes," he cried.