Barney made the first announcement in the morning. He was going caribou
hunting. He had had quite enough "dog meat." Bruce offered to go with
him, but, on second thought, decided to try fishing through the ice.
Barney was soon lost in the wilderness of scrub spruce. But, though he
hunted far, he found no fresh caribou tracks. It was on his return trip
that he received the first surprise of the day. The wind was blowing fine
snow along the surface and he found his out-going trail half-buried.
Then, suddenly, he came upon strange footprints. The person apparently
had been going North, but upon seeing the white boy's track he had turned
and retreated. The tracks were fresh and had been made by a heelless
skin-shoe.

"Indian!" Barney gasped.

Even as he spoke he caught the gleam of a camp-fire through the trees;
then another and another. Without a moment's delay Barney started for the
camp two miles away.

He had reached the open space where the trading station had stood, had
nearly crossed it, when out of the edge of the ruins there rose the form
of a man, not an Indian but a white man. Barney's first thought was that
it was Bruce or the Major. His second look brought action. He dropped
flat behind some fire-blackened debris. The man wore a tomato-colored
mackinaw, such as was not to be found in their outfit. Whoever he was,
his back was turned and he had not seen the boy.

Creeping a little forward, Barney peered around the pile. What he saw
set the cold chills chasing up his back. The man had torn two of the
lead-wires from the frosted earth. Slowly he placed their points
together. In that instant the boy understood. He knew now the reason