In Wabi's veins the blood danced with the excitement that stirred his forefathers to battle.

Not a line of the tragedy that was being enacted before his eyes escaped this native son of the wilderness.

It was a magnificent fight! He knew that the old bull would die by inches in the one-sided duel, and that when it was over there would be more than one carcass for the survivors to gorge themselves upon.

Quietly he reached up and touched his companion.
"Now is our time," he said.

"Come on--still--and on this side of the tree!" He slipped down, foot by foot, assisting Rod as he did so, and when both had reached the ground he bent over as before, that the other might get upon his back.
"I can make it alone, Wabi," whispered the wounded boy.