“Mountain not ver’ far.  Two—­t’ree mile, then camp,” encouraged Mukoki.  “Walk slow—­have big supper.”

Only a few articles had been taken from the toboggan-sled on which the hunters were dragging the greater part of their equipment into the wilderness, and Mukoki soon had these packed again.  The three adventurers now took up the new trail along the top of one of those wild and picturesque ridges which both the Indians and white hunters of this great Northland call mountains.  Wabigoon led, weighted under his pack, selecting the clearest road for the toboggan and clipping down obstructing saplings with his keen-edged belt-ax.  A dozen feet behind him followed Mukoki, dragging the sled; and behind the sled, securely tied with a thong of babeesh, or moose-skin rope, slunk the wolf.  Rod, less experienced in making a trail and burdened with a lighter pack, formed the rear of the little cavalcade.

Darkness was now falling rapidly.  Though Wabigoon was not more than a dozen yards ahead, Rod could only now and then catch a fleeting vision of him through the gloom.  Mukoki, doubled over in his harness, was hardly more than a blotch in the early night.  Only the wolf was near enough to offer companionship to the tired and down-spirited youth.  Rod’s enthusiasm was not easily cooled, but just now he mentally wished that, for this one night at least, he was back at the Post, with the lovely little Minnetaki relating to him some legend of bird or beast they had encountered that day.  How much pleasanter that would be!  The vision of the bewitching little maiden was suddenly knocked out of his head in a most unexpected and startling way.  Mukoki had paused for a moment and Rod, unconscious of the fact, continued on his journey until he tumbled in a sprawling heap over the sled, knocking Mukoki’s legs completely from under him in his fall.  When Wabi ran back he found Rod flattened out, face downward, and Mukoki entangled in his site harness on top of him.

In a way this accident was fortunate.  Wabi, who possessed a Caucasian sense of humor, shook with merriment as he gave his assistance, and Rod, after he had dug the snow from his eyes and ears and had emptied a handful of it from his neck, joined with him.

The ridge now became narrower as the trio advanced.  On one side, far down, could be heard the thunderous rush of the river, and from the direction of the sound Rod knew they were near a precipice.  Great beds of boulders and broken rock, thrown there by some tumultuous upheaval of past ages, now impeded their progress, and every step was taken with extreme caution.  The noise of the torrent became louder and louder as they advanced and on one side of him Rod now thought that he could distinguish a dim massive shadow towering above them, like the precipitous side of a mountain.  A few steps farther and Mukoki exchanged places with Wabigoon.

“Muky has been here before,” cried Wabi close up to Rod’s ear.  His voice was almost drowned by the tumult below.  “That’s where the river rushes through the mountain!”