“See here,” he said.  “I don’t want to stir up any false fears, or anything of that sort—­but I found that on the trail to-day!”

Mukoki clutched at the shell as though it had been another newly found nugget of gold.  The shell was empty.  The lettering on the rim was still very distinct.  He read “.35 Rem.”

“Why, that’s—­”

“A shell from Rod’s gun!”

For a few moments Rod and Mukoki stared at the young Indian in blank amazement.

“It’s a .35 caliber Remington,” continued Wabi, “and it’s an auto-loading shell.  There are only three guns like that in this country.  I’ve got one, Mukoki has another—­and you lost the third in your fight with the Woongas!”

The venison had begun to burn, and Mukoki quickly transferred it to the table.  Without a word the three sat down to their meal.

“That means the Woongas are on our trail,” declared Rod presently.

“That is what I have been trying to reason out all the afternoon,” replied Wabi.  “It certainly is proof that they are, or have been quite recently, on this side of the mountain.  But I don’t believe they know we are here.  The trail I struck was about five miles from camp.  It was at least two days old.  Three Indians on snow-shoes were traveling north.  I followed back on their trail and found after a time that the Indians had come from the north, which leads me to believe that they were simply on a hunting expedition, cut a circle southward, and then returned to their camp.  I don’t believe they will come farther south.  But we must keep our eyes open.”

Wabi’s description of the manner in which the strange trail turned gave great satisfaction to Mukoki, who nodded affirmatively when the young hunter expressed it as his belief that the Woongas would not come so far as their camp.  But the discovery of their presence chilled the buoyant spirits of the hunters.  There was, however, a new spice of adventure lurking in this possible peril that was not altogether displeasing, and by the time the meal was at an end something like a plan of campaign had been formed.  The hunters would not wait to be attacked and then act in self-defense, possibly at a disadvantage.  They would be constantly on the lookout for the Woongas, and if a fresh trail or a camp was found they would begin the man-hunt themselves.

The sun was just beginning to sink behind the distant hills in the southwest when the hunters again left camp.  Wolf had received nothing to eat since the previous night, and with increasing hunger the fiery impatience lurking in his eyes and the restlessness of his movements became more noticeable.  Mukoki called attention to these symptoms with a gloating satisfaction.