He heard the crackling of Wabi’s fire and the odor of coffee came to him; and Wabi, assured that their presence was known to the Woongas, began whistling cheerily.  In a few minutes he rejoined Rod behind the rock.

“They will attack us as soon as it gets good and dark,” he said coolly.  “That is, if they can find us.  As soon as they are no longer able to see down into the chasm we will find some kind of a hiding-place.  Mukoki will be able to travel then.”

A memory of the cleft in the chasm wall came to Rod and he quickly described it to his companion.  It was an ideal hiding-place at night, and if Mukoki was strong enough they could steal up out of the chasm and secure a long start into the south before the Woongas discovered their flight in the morning.  There was just one chance of failure.  If the spy whose trail had revealed the break in the mountain to Rod was not among the outlaws’ wounded or dead the cleft might be guarded, or the Woongas themselves might employ it in making a descent upon them.

“It’s worth the risk anyway,” said Wabi.  “The chances are even that your outlaw ran across the fissure by accident and that his companions are not aware of its existence.  And they’ll not follow our trail down the chasm to-night, I’ll wager.  In the cover of darkness they will steal down among the rocks and then wait for daylight.  Meanwhile we can be traveling southward and when they catch up with us we will give them another fight if they want it.”

“We can start pretty soon?”

“Within an hour.”

For some time the two stood in silent watchfulness.  Suddenly Rod asked: 

“Where is Wolf?”

Wabi laughed, softly, exultantly.

“Gone back to his people, Rod.  He will be crying in the wild hunt-pack to-night.  Good old Wolf!” The laugh left his lips and there was a tremble of regret in his voice.  “The Woongas came from the back of the cabin—­took me by surprise—­and we had it hot and heavy for a few minutes.  We fell back where Wolf was tied and just as I knew they’d got me sure I cut his babeesh with the knife I had in my hand.”

“Didn’t he show fight?”

“For a minute.  Then one of the Indians shot, at him and he hiked off into the woods.”

“Queer they didn’t wait for Mukoki and me,” mused Rod.  “Why didn’t they ambush us?”

“Because they didn’t want you, and they were sure they’d reach their camp before you took up the trail.  I was their prize.  With me in their power they figured on communicating with you and Mukoki and sending you back to the Post with their terms.  They would have bled father to his last cent—­and then killed me.  Oh, they talked pretty plainly to me when they thought they had me!”

There came a noise from above them and the young hunters held their rifles in readiness.  Nearer and nearer came the crashing sound, until a small boulder shot past them into the chasm.