five-minute run brought him to the rock, and for a moment he paused,
his heart almost choking him in its excitement. Just beyond this he
had first encountered the strange trail. There were no signs of it
left in the snow, but he saw other things which led him on: a huge
rock thrusting itself out of the chaos of white, a dead poplar which
stood in his path, and at last, half a mile ahead, the edge of a dense
forest.

He turned and waved his arms wildly to Mukoki and Wabigoon, who were
far behind. Then he ran on, and when he reached the forest he waved
his arms again, and his joy was flung back in a thrilling shout to his
comrades. There was the log on which Minnetaki had been forced to sit
while awaiting the pleasure of her savage captors; he found the very
spot where her footprint had been in the snow, close to a protruding
stub! The outlaw Indians and their captives had rested here for a
brief spell, and had built a fire, and so many feet had beaten the
snow about it that their traces still remained.

He pointed to these signs as Mukoki and Wabigoon joined him.

For several minutes no one of the three spoke a word. Crouched over
until his eyes were within a foot of the snow the old pathfinder
examined every inch of the little clearing in which the Woongas had
built their fire, and when at last he drew himself erect his face
betrayed the utmost astonishment.

The boys saw that in those faint marks in the snow he had discovered
something of unusual if not startling significance.

"What is it, Muky?" asked the young Indian.