"To the chasm!" repeated Rod.

Impelled by the same thought the three adventurers went toward the
rocks from which the shot had been fired. Surely they would discover
some sign there, or lower down upon the plain, where the melting snows
had softened the earth. Mukoki led in the search, and foot by foot
they examined the spot where the mysterious marksman must have stood
when he sent his golden bullet so close to the Indian's head.

But not a trace of his presence had he left behind. Working abreast,
the three began the descent of the ridge. Hardly had they covered a
third of the distance to the plain when Wabi, who was trailing between
Rod and the old Indian, called out that he had made a discovery.
Mukoki had already reached him when Rod came up, and the two were
gazing silently at something fluttering from a bush.

"Lynx hair!" cried Rod. "A lynx has been this way!" He could not
entirely conceal the triumph in his voice. He had been right in his
conjecture of the night before, the cry that had frightened Mukoki had
been made by a lynx!

"Yes, a lynx has been this way, a lynx four feet high," said Wabigoon
quietly, and the touch of raillery in his voice assured Rod that he
had still other lessons to learn in the life of this big wilderness.
"Lynx don't grow that big, Rod!"

"Then it's--" Rod feared to go on.

"Lynx fur. That's just what it is. Whoever fired at Mukoki last night