Among its bare, wind-swept ridges all sign was lost, but the Indian kept on till they were over and on the other side.

A far cast in the thick, windless woods revealed the trail again, surely the same, for the snowshoe was two fingers wider on every side, and a hand-breadth longer than Quonab's; besides the right frame had been broken and the binding of rawhide was faintly seen in the snow mark.

It was a mark they had seen all winter, and now it was headed as before for the west.
When night came down, they camped in a hollow.

They were used to snow camps.

In the morning they went on, but wind and snow had hidden their tell-tale guide.
What was the next move?
Rolf did not ask, but wondered.
Quonab evidently was puzzled.
At length Rolf ventured: "He surely lives by some river--that way--and within a day's journey.