from the border to Hudson Bay.

As he listened there came to him suddenly a sound that forced from
between his lips a half-articulate cry. It was the clear, ringing report
of a rifle! And following it there came another, and another, until in
quick succession he had counted five!

What did it mean? He sprang to his feet, his heart thumping, every nerve
in him prepared for action. He would have sworn it was Mukoki's
rifle--yet Mukoki would not have fired at game! They had agreed upon
that.

Had Rod and the old Indian been attacked? In another instant Wabi was
bounding over the trail with the speed of a deer.



CHAPTER V

MYSTERIOUS SHOTS IN THE WILDERNESS


As the Indian youth sped over the trail in the direction of the
rifle-shots he flung his usual caution to the winds. His blood thrilled
with the knowledge that there was not a moment to lose--that even now,
in all probability, he would be too late to assist his friends. This
fear was emphasized by the absolute silence which followed the five
shots. Eagerly, almost prayerfully, he listened as he ran for other
sounds of battle--for the report of Mukoki's revolver, or the whoops of
the victors. If there had been an ambush it was all over now. Each