"The chasm! If we can reach the chasm--" "The chasm!" reiterated Wabigoon.
Mukoki had fallen behind and motioned for Wabi and Rod to take the lead.
Even now he was determined to take the brunt of danger by bringing up the rear.
There was no time for argument and Wabigoon set off at a rapid pace.
From behind there came the click of shells as the Indian loaded his rifle on the run.

While the other two had been busy at the scene of the ambush Rod had replaced his empty shell, and now, as he led, Wabi examined the armament that had been stolen from them by the outlaws.
"How many shells have you got, Rod ?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Forty-nine." "There's only four left in this belt besides five in the gun," called back the Indian youth.

"Give me--some." Without halting Rod plucked a dozen cartridges from his belt and passed them on.
Now they had reached the hill.

At its summit they paused to recover their breath and take a look at the camp.
The fires were deserted.

A quarter of a mile out on the plain they saw half a dozen of their pursuers speeding toward the hill.