“Mong-o doog-win
      Nin dinaindoon—­”
     “Loon’s wing I thought it was
      In the distance shining. 
      But it was my lover’s paddle
      In the distance shining.”

Then she looked up and saw him.

“Little Father!” she cried, pleased.

At the same moment Dick caught sight of the new-comer and hobbled out of the wigwam.

“Hello, you old snoozer!” he shouted.  “We began to think you weren’t going to show up at all.  Look at what we’ve done.  I believe you’ve been lying out in the woods just to dodge work.  Where’d you steal that dog?”

“Hello, Dick,” replied Sam, unslinging his pack.  “I’m tired.  Tell her to rustle grub.”

He leaned back against a cedar, half-closing his eyes, but nevertheless keenly alert.  The changed atmosphere of the camp disturbed him.  Although he had not realised it before, he preferred Dick’s old uncompromising sulkiness.

In accordance with the woods custom, little was said until after the meal was finished and the pipes lit.  Then Dick inquired: 

“Well, where you been this time, and what did you find?”

Sam replied briefly as to his journey, making it clear that he had now covered all the hunting districts of this region with the single exception of one beyond the Kenogami.  He had discovered nothing; he was absolutely sure that nothing was to be discovered.

“I didn’t go entirely by what the Injuns told me,” he said, “but I looked at the signs along the trapping routes and the trapping camps to see how many had been at it, and I’m sure the number tallies with the reg’lar Injun hunters.  I picked up that dog over to Leftfoot Lake.  Come here, pup!”

The animal slouched forward, his head hanging, the rims of his eyes blood red as he turned them up to his master.  He was a powerful beast, black and tan, with a quaintly wrinkled, anxious countenance and long, pendent ears.

“Strong,” commented Dick, “but queer-looking.  He’ll have trouble keeping warm with that short coat.”

“He’s wintered here already,” replied Sam, indifferently.  “Go lie down!”

The dog slouched slowly back, his heavy head and ears swinging to each step, to where May-may-gwan was keeping his peace with the other animals.

“Now for that Kenogami country,” went on Sam; “it’s two weeks from here by dogs, and it’s our last chance in this country.  I ain’t dared ask too many questions, of course, so I don’t know anything about the men who’re hunting there.  There’s four families, and one other.  He’s alone; I got that much out of the last place I stopped.  We got to wait here for snow.  If we don’t raise anything there, we’d better get over toward the Nipissing country.”

“All right,” said Dick.

The older man began to ask minutely concerning the equipment, provisions, and dog food.

“It’s all right as long as we can take it easy and hunt,” advised Sam, gradually approaching the subject that was really troubling him, “and it’s all right if we can surprise this Jingoss or ambush him when we find him.  But suppose he catches wind of us and skips, what then?  It’ll be a mighty pretty race, my son, and a hard one.  We’ll have to fly light and hard, and we’ll need every pound of grub we can scrape.”