The toes of his Mackenzie hound left warm, sharp imprints.

It was then that they came to the frozen water of the Chariot.

The Chippewayan turned back to Fond du Lac, and Philip went on alone, the two dogs limping behind him with his outfit.
It was still early in the day when Philip crossed the river into the barrens and with each step now his pulse beat faster.

DeBar could not be far ahead of him.

He was sure of that.