He mentally calculated that it would be ten minutes before the Woongas, coming up from the sides and rear, would discover his flight, and by that time he would have nearly a mile the start of them.
He saw, without stopping, where Wabi had dressed Mukoki's wound.

There were spots of blood and a red rag upon the snow.

Half a mile farther on the two had paused again, and this time he knew that Mukoki had stopped to rest.

From now on they had rested every quarter of a mile or so, and soon Roderick saw them toiling slowly through the snow ahead of him.
He ran up, panting, anxious.
"How--" he began.
Wabi looked at him grimly.
"How much farther, Rod ?" he asked.
"Not more than half a mile." Wabi motioned for him to take Mukoki's other arm.
"He has bled a good deal," he said.

There was a hardness in his voice that made Rod shudder, and he caught his breath as Wabi shot him a meaning glance behind the old warrior's doubled shoulders.
They went faster now, almost carrying their wounded comrade between them.