This third night there was a new moon, and something about it stirred in Peter an impulse to run ahead and overtake those he was seeking.

But a still strong instinct held him to Breault.
Tonight Breault slept like a dead man on his cedar boughs.

He was up and had a fire built an hour before dawn, and with the first gray streaking of day was on the trail again.

He made no further effort to follow signs of the pursued, for that was a hopeless task.

But he knew how McKay was heading, and he traveled swiftly, figuring to cover twice the distance that Nada might travel in the same given time.