He was interrupted by a long mournful howl from the captive wolf.

Mukoki had jumped to his feet with the alertness of a cat, and now with
his gun in his hand slunk around the edge of the shelter and buried
himself in the gloom. Roderick lay quiet while Wabi, seizing the
remaining rifle, followed him.

"Lie over there in the dark, Rod, where the firelight doesn't show you
up," he cautioned in a low voice. "Probably it is only some animal that
has stumbled on to our camp, but we want to make sure."

Ten minutes later the young hunter returned alone.

"False alarm!" he laughed cheerfully. "There's a part of a carcass of a
red deer up the creek a bit. It has been killed by wolves, and Wolf
smells some of his own blood coming in to the feast. Muky has set traps
there and we may have our first scalp in the morning."

"Where is Mukoki?"

"On watch. He is going to keep guard until a little after midnight, and
then I'll turn out. We can't be too careful, with the Woongas in the
neighborhood."

Rod shifted himself uneasily.

"What shall we do--to-morrow?" he asked.

"Get out!" replied Wabi with emphasis. "That is, if you are able to