The gloom of early evening was enveloping the wilderness by the time the three wolf hunters reached the swamp in which Rod had slain the buck.  While he carried the guns and packs, Mukoki and Wabigoon dragged the buck between them to the huge flat-top rock.  Now for the first time the city youth began to understand the old pathfinder’s scheme.  Several saplings were cut, and by means of a long rope of babeesh the deer was dragged up the side of the rock until it rested securely upon the flat space.  From the dead buck’s neck the babeesh rope was now stretched across the intervening space between the rock and the clump of cedars in which the hunters were to conceal themselves.  In two of these cedars, at a distance of a dozen feet from the ground, were quickly made three platforms of saplings, upon which the ambushed watchers could comfortably seat themselves.  By the time complete darkness had fallen the “trap” was finished, with the exception of a detail which Rod followed with great interest.

From inside his clothes, where it had been kept warm by his body, Mukoki produced the flask of blood.  A third of this blood he scattered upon the face of the rock and upon the snow at its base.  The remainder he distributed, drop by drop, in trails running toward the swamp and plains.

There still remained three hours before the moon would be up, and the hunters now joined Wolf, who had been fastened half-way up the ridge.  In the shelter of a big rock a small fire was built, and during their long wait the hunters passed the time away by broiling and eating chunks of venison and in going over again the events of the day.

It was nine o’clock before the moon rose above the edge of the wilderness.  This great orb of the Northern night seemed to hold a never-ending fascination for Rod.  It crept above the forests, a glowing, throbbing ball of red, quivering and palpitating in an effulgence that neither cloud nor mist dimmed in this desolation beyond the sphere of man; and as it rose, almost with visible movement to the eyes, the blood in it faded, until at last it seemed a great blaze of soft light between silver and gold.  It was then that the whole world was lighted up under it.  It was then that Mukoki, speaking softly, beckoned the others to follow him, and with Wolf at his side went down the ridge.

Making a circuit around the back of the rock, Mukoki paused near a small sapling twenty yards from the dead buck and secured Wolf by his babeesh thong.  Hardly had he done so when the animal began to exhibit signs of excitement.  He trotted about nervously, sniffing the air, gathering the wind from every direction, and his jaws dropped with a snarling whine.  Then he struck one of the clots of blood in the snow.

“Come,” whispered Wabi, pulling at Rod’s sleeve, “come—­quietly.”