Inch by inch it was spread out, cracking and snapping in brittle protest.

The hunters could see that the bark was in a single unbroken strip about ten inches long by six in width.

Two inches, three, four were unrolled--and still the smooth surface was blank.

Another half-inch, and the bark refused to unroll farther.
"Careful!" whispered Wabi.
With the point of his knife he loosened the cohesion.
"I guess--there's--nothing--" began Rod.
Even as he spoke he caught his breath.

A mark had appeared on the bark, a black, meaningless mark with a line running down from it into the scroll.
Another fraction of an inch and the line was joined by a second, and then with an unexpectedness that was startling the remainder of the roll released itself like a spring--and to the eyes of the three wolf hunters was revealed the secret of the skeleton hand.
Spread out before them was a map, or at least what they at once accepted as a map, though in reality it was more of a crude diagram of straight and crooked lines, with here and there a partly obliterated word to give it meaning.