They took up the trail methodically, as though no hurry existed.  At the usual time of the evening they camped.  Dick was for pushing on an extra hour or so, announcing himself not in the least tired, and the dogs fresh, but Sam would have none of it.

“It’s going to be a long, hard pull,” he said.  “We’re not going to catch up with him to-day, or to-morrow, or next day.  It ain’t a question of whether you’re tired or the dogs are fresh to-night; it’s a question of how you’re going to be a month from now.”

“We won’t be able to follow him a month,” objected Dick.

“Why?”

“It’ll snow, and then we’ll lose th’ trail.  The spring snows can’t be far off now.  They’ll cover it a foot deep.”

“Mebbe,” agreed Sam, inconclusively.

“Besides,” pursued Dick, “he’ll be with his own people in less than a month, and then there won’t be any trail to follow.”

Whereupon Sam looked a little troubled, for this, in his mind, was the chief menace to their success.  If Jingoss turned south to the Lake Superior country, he could lose himself among the Ojibways of that region; and, if all remained true to him, the white men would never again be able to get trace of him. If all remained true to him:—­on the chance of that Sam was staking his faith.  The Honourable the Hudson’s Bay Company has been established a great many years; it has always treated its Indians justly; it enjoys a tremendous prestige for infallibility.  The bonds of race are strong, but the probabilities were good that in the tribes with whom Jingoss would be forced to seek sanctuary would be some members, whose loyalty to the Company would out-balance the rather shadowy obligation to a man they had never seen before.  Jingoss might be betrayed.  The chances of it were fairly good.  Sam Bolton knew that the Indian must be perfectly aware of this, and doubted if he would take the risk.  A single man with three dogs ought to run away from three pursuers with only four.  Therefore, the old woodsman thought himself justified in relying at least on the meagre opportunity a stern chase would afford.

He did not know where the Indian would be likely to lead him.  The checker-board of the wilderness lay open.  As he had before reflected, it would be only too easy for Jingoss to keep between himself and his pursuers the width of the game.  The Northwest was wide; the plains great; the Rocky Mountains lofty and full of hiding-places,—­it seemed likely he would turn west.  Or the deep forests of the other coast offered unlimited opportunities of concealment,—­the east might well be his choice.  It did not matter particularly.  Into either it would not be difficult to follow; and Sam hoped in either to gain a sight of his prize before the snow melted.