As tenderly as though his own life depended upon its care, Rod held the piece of birch, now a silken, almost transparent sheet, between himself and the light.  A cry welled up into his throat.  It was repeated by Wabi.  And then there was silence—­a silence broken only by their bated breaths and the excited thumpings of their hearts.

As though they had been written but yesterday, the mysterious words on the map were disclosed to their eyes.  Where Rod had made out only three letters there were now plainly discernible the two words “third waterfall,” and very near to these was the word “cabin.”  Below them were several lines, clearly impressed in the birch film.  Slowly, his voice trembling, Rod read them to his companions.

“We, John Ball, Henri Langlois, and Peter Plante, having discovered gold at this fall, do hereby agree to joint partnership in the same, and do pledge ourselves to forget our past differences and work in mutual good will and honesty, so help us God.  Signed,

“John ball, Henri Langlois, Peter Plante.”

At the very top of the map the impression of several other words caught Rod’s eyes.  They were more indistinct than any of the others, but one by one he made them out.  A hot blurring film seemed to fall over his eyes and he felt as though his heart had suddenly come up into his throat.  Wabi’s breath was burning against his cheek, and it was Wabi who spoke the words aloud.

“Cabin and head of chasm.”

Rod went back to the table and sat down, the precious bit of birch-bark under his hand.  Mukoki, standing mute, had listened and heard, and was as if stunned by their discovery.  But now his mind returned to the moose steak, and he placed it on the stove.  Wabi stood with his hands in his pockets, and after a little he laughed a trembling, happy laugh.

“Well, Rod, you’ve found your mine.  You are as good as rich!”

“You mean that we have found our mine,” corrected the white youth.  “We are three, and we just naturally fill the places of John Ball, Henri Langlois and Peter Plante.  They are all dead.  The gold is ours!”

Wabi had taken up the map.

“I can’t see the slightest possibility of our not finding it,” he said.  “The directions are as plain as day.  We follow the chasm, and somewhere in that chasm we come to a waterfall.  A little beyond this the creek that runs through the gorge empties into a larger stream, and we follow this second creek or river until we come to the third fall.  The cabin is there, and the gold can not be far away.”

He had carried the map to the door again, and Rod joined him.

“There is nothing that gives us an idea of distance on the map,” he continued.  “How far did you travel down the chasm?”

“Ten miles, at least,” replied Rod.

“And you discovered no fall?”

“No.”

With a splinter picked up from the floor Wabi measured the distances between the different points on the diagram.