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.
The high road would have been the easier travelling, but it was very necessary to be unobserved, so they took the trail up the brook Asamuk, and after an hour's tramp came out by the Cat-Rock road that runs westerly.

Again they were tempted by the easy path, but again Quonab decided on keeping to the woods.