"You catch heem," grinned Mukoki joyously. "You catch heem--queek!"

"And pretty nearly killed himself doing it, Muky," added Rod. "Now--"
he glanced from one to the other of his companions, "what is the first
thing to be done?" "We must strike for the Woonga trail without a
moment of unnecessary delay," declared Wabi. "Minutes are priceless,
an hour lost or gained may mean everything!"

"But the dogs--"

"You can take mine," interrupted the courier. "There are six of them,
all good heavy fellows and not overly bushed. You can add a few of
your own and I'll take what's left to drive on the mail. I would
advise you to rest for an hour or so and give them and yourselves a
good feed. It'll count in the long run."

Mukoki grunted his approval of the driver's words and Rod at once
began gathering more fuel for the fire. The temporary camp was soon
a scene of the liveliest activity. While the courier unpacked his
provisions, Mukoki and Wabigoon assembled the teams and proceeded to
select three of the best of their own animals to put in harness with
those of the Hudson Bay mail. The dogs from Wabinosh House were wildly
famished and at the sight and odor of the great piece of meat which
the courier began cutting up for them they set up a snarling and
snapping of jaws, and began fighting indiscriminately among themselves
until the voices of their human companions were almost drowned in the
tumult. A full pound of the meat was given to each dog, and other
pieces of it were suspended over beds of coals drawn out from the big
fire. Meanwhile Rod was chopping through the thick ice of the lake in
search of water.