It was a queer coincidence! Could Minnetaki have been here?
Had she made that footprint in the snow?
Impossible, declared the young hunter's better sense.

And yet his blood ran a little faster as he touched the delicate impression with his bare fingers.

It reminded him of Minnetaki, anyway; her foot would have made just such a trail, and he wondered if the girl who had stepped there was as pretty as she.
He followed now a little faster than before, and ten minutes later he came to where a dozen snow-shoe trails had come in from the north and had joined the three.

After meeting, the two parties had evidently joined forces and had departed over the trail made by those who had appeared from the direction of the Post.
"Friends from Kenogami House came down to meet them," mused Rod, and as he turned back in the direction of the camp he formed a picture of that meeting in the heart of the wilderness, of the glad embraces of husband and wife, and the joy of the pretty girl with the tiny feet as she kissed her father, and perhaps her big brother; for no girl could possess feet just like Minnetaki's and not be pretty! He found that Wabi had preceded him when he returned.

The young Indian had shot a small doe, and that noon witnessed a feast in camp.