Holfax proved that he had guessed correctly. There was no disturbance that night, but, in the morning, after they had started, the Indian mounted a hill, near which they had encamped.
"There Zank and his men," he announced, pointing to the rear. "Can see smoke of fire."
Mr. Baxter looked. A thin thread of smoke could be observed ascending in the frigid morning air, but no camp was in sight.
They started off soon after they had made a hasty breakfast. It seemed colder than at any time yet, but a glance at the thermometer showed that it was only thirty degrees below zero. Still that was cold enough, though what made it seem more piercing was a stiff wind that sprang up.
"Hark!" exclaimed Holfax, when they had gone several miles.
He halted the dogs and listened. The others could hear nothing.
"What is it, Holfax?" asked Mr. Baxter.
"Them come," replied the Indian. "Can hear dogs howl, an' sound of sleds on ice."
This may have been so, but the hearing of the Indian was more acute than that of the travelers.
"So the enemy is after our gold?" remarked Mr. Baxter. "Well, they'll have to fight to get it."