He took the lead now, followed closely by the boys. The safety of the
old pathfinder's rifle was down, and following his example Rod and
Wabigoon held their own guns in readiness for instant fire. As they
neared the summit of the ridge on which Mukoki's life had been
attempted the suspense of the two young hunters became almost
painfully acute. Mukoki's actions not only astonished them, but
set their blood tingling with his own strange fear. Many times had
Wabigoon seen his faithful comrade in moments of deadly peril but
never, even when the Woongas were close upon their trail, had he known
him to take them as seriously as he did the ascent of this mountain.
Every few steps Mukoki paused, listening and watchful. Not the
smallest twig broke under his moccasined feet; the movement of the
smallest bird, the trembling of a bush, the scurry of a rabbit halted
him, rigid, his rifle half to shoulder. And Rod and Wabigoon soon
become filled with this same panic-stricken fear. What terrible dread
was it that filled Mukoki's soul? Had he seen something of which he
had not told them? Did he think something which he had not revealed?

Foot by foot the three came to the top of the ridge. There Mukoki
straightened himself, and stood erect. There were no signs of a living
creature about them. Down in the dip nestled the little lake, gleaming
in the midday sun. They could make out the debris of the burned cabin
in which they had passed their hunting season, and close to this was
the pack which Mukoki had dropped there the night before. No one had
molested it. Wabi's face relaxed. Rod, breathing easier, laughed
softly. What had there been to fear? He glanced questioningly at
Mukoki.

"There rocks, there tree," said the old warrior, in answer to Rod's