As he watched and listened his brain worked ceaselessly, conjuring picture after picture of what that danger might be, and at last he drew out of the firelight and concealed himself in the deep gloom of the bush.

From here he could see the camp, and at the same time was safe from a possible rifle shot.
The night passed with tedious slowness, and he was glad when, a little after midnight, Wabi came out to relieve him.

At dawn he was in turn awakened by the young Indian.

Mukoki was already up and had prepared his pack.

Apparently he had regained his old spirits, but both Rod and Wabigoon could see that behind them the fear of the preceding night still haunted him.