Down and down he slunk, until he became only a blot in the snow.
"Now!" There came a moment of startled silence.

In the midst of their play the animals in the open stood for a single instant paralyzed by a knowledge of impending danger, and in that instant there came to the young hunters the report of Mukoki's rifle.
"No good!" cried Wabi.
In his excitement he leaped to his feet.

The caribou had turned and the whole eight of them were racing across the open.

Another shot, and another--three in quick succession, and one of the fleeing animals fell, scrambled to its knees--and plunged on again! A fifth shot--the last in Mukoki's rifle! Again the wounded animal fell, struggled to its knees--to its forefeet--and fell again.
"Good work! Five hundred yards if it was a foot!" exclaimed Wabigoon with a relieved laugh.

"Fresh steak for supper, Rod!" Mukoki came out into the open, reloading his rifle.