Evidently it was strongly barred from within.
Curiosity now gave place to astonishment.
How could the door be locked within, and the window barred from within, without there being somebody inside?
For a few moments the three stood speechless, listening.
"Looks queer, doesn't it ?" spoke Wabi softly.
Mukoki had dropped on his knees beside the door.

He could hear no sound.
Then he kicked off his snow-shoes, gripped his belt-ax and stepped to the window.
A dozen blows and one of the bars fell.

The old Indian sniffed suspiciously, his ear close to the opening.

Damp, stifling air greeted his nostrils, but still there was no sound.

One after another he knocked off the remaining bars and thrust his head and shoulders inside.
Gradually his eyes became accustomed to the darkness and he pulled himself in.
Half-way--and he stopped.
"Go on, Muky," urged Wabi, who was pressing close behind.
There came no answer from the old Indian.