that might cause one of them to stumble, they passed along the
perilously narrow ledge, and did not rest again until they had come
in safety to the broader trail leading up the mountain. An hour later
Mukoki met them on his return for the remainder of their supplies.
Shortly after this they reached the small plateau where they had
camped during the previous winter, and lowered their canoe close to
the old balsam shelter.

Everything was as they had left it. Neither snow nor storm had
destroyed their lodging of boughs. There were the charred remains of
their fire, the bones of the huge lynx which Roderick had thought was
an attacking Woonga, and had killed; and beside the shelter was a
stake driven into the ground, the stake to which they had fastened
their faithful comrade of many an adventure, the tame wolf.

To this stake went Wabigoon, speaking no word. He sat down close
beside it, with his arm resting upon it, and when he looked up at Rod
there was an expression in his face which spoke more than words.

"Poor old Wolf!"

Rod turned and walked to the edge of the plateau, something hot and
uncomfortable filling his eyes. Below him, as far as he could see,
there stretched the vast, mysterious wilderness that reached to Hudson
Bay. And somewhere out there in that limitless space was Wolf.

As he looked, the hot film clouding his vision, he thought of the old
tragedy in Mukoki's life, and of how Wolf had helped him to avenge
himself. In his imagination he went back to that terrible day many,
many years ago, when Mukoki, happy in the strength of his youth, found