The stains soon dried, and Rolf, re-clothed, felt that already he
had burned a bridge.
Two portions of the wigwam cover were taken off; and two packs
were made of the bedding. The tomahawk, bows, arrows, and gun,
with the few precious food pounds in the copper pot, were divided
between them and arranged into packs with shoulder straps; then
all was ready. But there was one thing more for Quonab; he went
up alone to the rock. Rolf knew what he went for, and judged it
best not to follow.
The Indian lighted his pipe, blew the four smokes to the four
winds, beginning with the west, then he sat in silence for a
time. Presently the prayer for good hunting came from the rock:
"Father lead us!
Father, help us!
Father, guide us to the good hunting."
And when that ceased a barred owl hooted in the woods,
away to the north.
"Ugh! good," was all he said as he rejoined Rolf; and they set
out, as the sun went down, on their long journey due northward,
Quonab, Rolf, and Skookum. They had not gone a hundred yards
before the dog turned back, raced to a place where he had a bone
in cache and rejoining there trotted along with his bone.
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