Mukoki's wound. There were spots of blood and a red rag upon the snow. Half a mile farther on the two had paused again, and this time he knew that Mukoki had stopped to rest. From now on they had rested every quarter of a mile or so, and soon Roderick saw them toiling slowly through the snow ahead of him.
He ran up, panting, anxious.
"How—" he began.
Wabi looked at him grimly.
"How much farther, Rod?" he asked.
"Not more than half a mile."
Wabi motioned for him to take Mukoki's other arm.
"He has bled a good deal," he said. There was a hardness in his voice that made Rod shudder, and he caught his breath as Wabi shot him a meaning glance behind the old warrior's doubled shoulders.
They went faster now, almost carrying their wounded comrade between them. Suddenly, Wabi paused, threw his rifle to his shoulder, and fired. A few yards ahead a huge white rabbit kicked in his death struggles in the snow.
"If we do reach the chasm Mukoki must have something to eat," he said.
"We'll reach it!" gasped Rod. "We'll reach it! There's the woods. We go down there!"
They almost ran, with Mukoki's snow-shod feet dragging between them, and five minutes later they were carrying the half-unconscious Indian down the steep side of the mountain. At its foot Wabi turned, and his eyes flashed with vengeful hatred.
"Now, you devils!" he shouted up defiantly. "Now!"
Mukoki aroused himself for a few moments and Rod helped him back to the shelter of the chasm wall. He found a nook between great masses of rock, almost clear of snow, and left him there while he hurried back to Wabigoon.
"You stand on guard here, Rod," said the latter. "We must cook that rabbit and get some life back into Mukoki. I think he has stopped bleeding, but I am going to look again. The wound isn't fatal, but it has weakened him. If we can get something hot into him I believe he will be able to walk again. Did you have anything left over from your dinner on the trail to-day?"
Rod unstrapped the small pack in which the hunters carried their food while on the trail, and which had been upon his shoulders since noon.
"There is a double handful of coffee, a cupful of tea, plenty of salt and a little bread," he said.
"Good! Few enough supplies for three people in this kind of a wilderness—but they'll save Mukoki!"
Wabi went back, while Rod, sheltered behind a rock, watched the narrow incline into the chasm. He almost hoped the Woongas would dare to attempt a descent, for he was sure that he and Wabi would have them at a terrible disadvantage and with their revolvers and three rifles could inflict a decisive blow upon them before they reached the bottom. But he saw no sign of their enemies. He heard no sound from above, yet he knew that the outlaws were very near—only waiting for the protecting darkness of night.
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.
"They're up there," grinned Wabi, lowering his gun. "That was an accident, but you'd better keep your eyes open. I'll bet the whole tribe feel like murdering the fellow who rolled over that stone!"
He crept cautiously back to Mukoki, and Rod crouched with his face to the narrow trail leading down from the top of the mountain. Deep shadows were beginning to lurk among the trees and he was determined that any movement there would draw his fire. Fifteen minutes later Wabi returned, eating ravenously at a big hind quarter of broiled rabbit.
"I've had my coffee," he greeted. "Go back and eat and drink, and build the fire up high. Don't mind me when I shoot. I am going to fire just to let the Woongas know we are on guard, and after that we'll hustle for that break in the mountain."
Rod found Mukoki with a chunk of rabbit in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. The wounded Indian smiled with something like the old light in his eyes and a mighty load was lifted from Rod's heart.
"You're better?" he asked.
"Fine!" replied Mukoki. "No much hurt. Good fight some more. Wabi say, 'No, you stay.'" His face became a map of grimaces to show his disapproval of Wabi's command.
Rod helped himself to the meat and coffee. He was hungry, but after he was done there remained some of the rabbit and a biscuit and these he placed in his pack for further use. Soon after this there came two shots from the rock and before the echoes had died away down the chasm Wabi approached through the gathering gloom.
It
