Wabi, and Wabi agreed with great enthusiasm. In fact, by the time the
week was almost gone Minnetaki and Rod had become great chums, and it
was not without some feeling of regret that the young wolf hunter
greeted the dawn of the day that was to see them begin their journey
deeper into the wilds.

Minnetaki was one of the earliest risers at the Post. Rod was seldom
behind her. But on this particular morning he was late and heard the
girl whistling outside half an hour before he was dressed--for Minnetaki
could whistle in a manner that often filled him with envy. By the time
he came down she had disappeared in the edge of the forest, and Wabi,
who was also ahead of him, was busy with Mukoki tying up their equipment
in packs. It was a glorious morning, clear and frosty, and Rod noticed
that a thin shell of ice had formed on the lake during the night. Once
or twice Wabi turned toward the forest and gave his signal whoop, but
received no reply.

"I don't see why Minnetaki doesn't come back," he remarked carelessly,
as he fastened a shoulder-strap about a bundle. "Breakfast will be ready
in a jiffy. Hunt her up, will you, Rod?"

Nothing loath, Rod started out on a brisk run along the path which he
knew to be a favorite with Minnetaki and shortly it brought him down to
a pebbly stretch of the beach where she frequently left her canoe. That
she had been here a few minutes before he could tell by the fact that
the ice about the birch-bark was broken, as though the girl had tested
its thickness by shoving the light craft out into it for a few feet. Her
footsteps led plainly up the shelving shore and into the forest.

"O Minnetaki--Minnetaki!"