They had traveled slowly but steadily and Wabi figured that they had covered fifteen miles.

Five miles behind them their trail was completely obliterated by the falling snow.

Morning would betray to the Woongas no sign of the direction taken by the fugitives.
"They will believe that we have struck directly westward for the Post," said Wabi.

"To-morrow night we'll be fifty miles apart." During this stop a small fire was built behind a fallen log and the hunters refreshed themselves with a pot of strong coffee and what little remained of the rabbit and biscuits.

The march was then resumed.
It seemed to Rod that they had climbed an interminable number of ridges and had picked their way through an interminable number of swampy bottoms between them, and he, even more than Mukoki, was relieved when they struck the easier traveling of open plains.