He was sure that these tracks had been made by women, for the footprints made by one of them were unusually small.

Close to the log he found a single impression in the snow that caused his heart to give a sudden unexpected thump within him.
In this spot the snow had been packed by one of the snow-shoes, and in this comparatively hard surface the footprint was clearly defined.

It had been made by a moccasin.

Rod knew that.

And the moccasin wore a slight heel! He remembered, now, that thrilling day in the forest near Wabinosh House when he had stopped to look at Minnetaki's footprints in the soft earth through which she had been driven by her Woonga abductors, and he remembered, too, that she was the only person at the Post who wore heels on her moccasins.