“They will believe that we have struck directly westward for the Post,” said Wabi.  “To-morrow night we’ll be fifty miles apart.”

During this stop a small fire was built behind a fallen log and the hunters refreshed themselves with a pot of strong coffee and what little remained of the rabbit and biscuits.  The march was then resumed.

It seemed to Rod that they had climbed an interminable number of ridges and had picked their way through an interminable number of swampy bottoms between them, and he, even more than Mukoki, was relieved when they struck the easier traveling of open plains.  In fact, Mukoki seemed scarcely to give a thought to his wound and Roderick was almost ready to drop in his tracks by the time a halt was called an hour before dawn.  The old warrior was confident that they were now well out of danger and a rousing camp-fire was built in the shelter of a thick growth of spruce.

“Spruce partridge in mornin’,” affirmed Mukoki.  “Plenty here for breakfast.”

“How do you know?” asked Rod, whose hunger was ravenous.

“Fine thick spruce, all in shelter of dip,” explained the Indian.  “Birds winter here.”

Wabi had unpacked the furs, and the larger of these, including six lynx and three especially fine wolf skins, he divided into three piles.

“They’ll make mighty comfortable beds if you keep close enough to the fire,” he explained.  “Get a few spruce boughs, Rod, and cover them over with one of the wolf skins.  The two lynx pelts will make the warmest blankets you ever had.”

Rod quickly availed himself of this idea, and within half an hour he was sleeping soundly.  Mukoki and Wabigoon, more inured to the hardships of the wilderness, took only brief snatches of slumber, one or both awakening now and then to replenish the fire.  As soon as it was light enough the two Indians went quietly out into the spruce with their guns, and their shots a little later awakened Rod.  When they returned they brought three partridges with them.

“There are dozens of them among the spruce,” said Wabi, “but just now we do not want to shoot any oftener than is absolutely necessary.  Have you noticed our last night’s trail?”

Rod rubbed his eyes, thus confessing that as yet he had not been out from between his furs.

“Well, if you go out there in the open for a hundred yards you won’t find it,” finished his comrade.  “The snow has covered it completely.”

Although they lacked everything but meat, this breakfast in the spruce thicket was one of the happiest of the entire trip, and when the three hunters were done each had eaten of his partridge until only the bones were left.  There was now little cause for fear, for it was still snowing and their enemies were twenty-five miles to the north of them.  This fact did not deter the adventurers from securing an early start, however, and they traveled southward through the storm until noon, when they built a camp of spruce and made preparations to rest until the following day.