CHAPTER II


MINNETAKI IN THE HANDS OF THE OUTLAWS

For a brief time Roderick believed that life had indeed passed from
the body of his young friend. So still did Wabi lie and so terrifying
was the strange pallor in his face that the white boy found himself
calling on his comrade in a voice filled with choking sobs. The driver
of the dog mail dropped on his knees beside the two young hunters.
Running his hand under Wabi's thick shirt he held it there for an
instant, and said, "He's alive!"

Quickly drawing a small metal flask from one of his pockets he
unscrewed the top, and placing the mouthpiece to the Indian youth's
lips forced a bit of its contents down his throat. The liquor had
almost immediate effect, and Wabigoon opened his eyes, gazed into the
rough visage of the courier, then closed them again. There was relief
in the courier's face as he pointed to the dogs from Wabinosh House.
The exhausted animals were lying stretched upon the snow, their heads
drooping between their forefeet. Even the presence of a rival team
failed to arouse them from their lethargy. One might have thought that
death had overtaken them upon the trail were it not for their panting
sides and lolling tongues.

"He's not hurt!" exclaimed the driver, "see the dogs! He's been
running--running until he dropped in his tracks!"