A dozen feet more, and then-- The shadows had stopped, and now drew together as if in consultation.
They were not more than twenty yards away, and for a moment Wabi lowered his rifle and listened hard.

He could hear the low unintelligible mutterings of their conversation.

Then there came to him a single incautious reply from one of the shadows.
"All right!" Surely that was not the English of a Woonga! It sounded like-- In a flash Wabi had called softly.
"Ho, Muky--Muky--Rod!" In another moment the three wolf hunters were together, silently wringing one another's hands, the death-like pallor of Rod's face and the tense lines in the bronzed countenances of Mukoki and Wabigoon plainly showing the tremendous strain they had been under.
"You shoot ?" whispered Mukoki.
"No!" replied Wabi, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Didn't _you_ shoot ?" "No!" Only the one word fell from the old Indian, but it was filled with a new warning.

Who had fired the five shots?
The hunters gazed blankly at one another, mute questioning in their eyes.