"Rod, when we get thawed out, I want you to kick me," he pleaded. "I
want you to kick me good and hard, and then I'll take great pleasure
in kicking you. And ever after this, when we do a thing that Mukoki
tells us not to do, we'll kick some more!"

"Who pulled us out?" asked Rod.

"Mukoki, of course. Will you kick me?"

"Shake!"

And the two dripping, half-frozen young adventurers shook hands,
while Mukoki chuckled and grunted and gurgled until he set the others
bursting into laughter.




CHAPTER VIII


THE YELLOW BULLET

Before a rousing fire of logs Rod and Wabigoon began to see the
cheerful side of life again, and as soon as Mukoki had built them a
balsam shelter they stripped off their clothes and wrapped themselves
in blankets, while the old Indian dried their outfits. It was two
hours before they were dressed. No sooner were they out than Wabi
went into the bush and returned a few minutes later brandishing a
good-sized birch in his hand. There was no sign of humor in his face