Radisson nodded, his deep eyes searching the trees around us.
"Then how do we know which to follow?" I cried in dismay. "Which party took the sled with them?"
"That we know not, lad," he made answer as if to a child. "They have followed after the sled, hiding its track. It might be with any of the three parties. They will swing out in a wide circle and then straight for the hills. No matter which we follow, we lose time. An excellent trick to fool children with, chief."
The Keeper merely grunted, while I stared at them aghast. Why did Radisson take this so calmly? But he gave me no time to question.
"Did you find it?" he asked the Mohawks simply. Swift Arrow made answer.
"The Mighty One's trail goes alone. It goes toward the east, where lies the shadow of the Ghost Hills."
Then in a flash I saw it all. Radisson proposed to abandon the Chippewa trails and follow that of the beast! The belief that the animal had been sent to guide us had overpowered all his woodcraft and subtlety, and I flung out at him in wild protest.
"It is madness!" I concluded angrily. "Better to lose time and still be on the track of the enemy, than to follow a wandering beast!"
"Rail not against the wisdom of old men," exclaimed Radisson sternly, his voice ringing with confidence. "The Mighty One is guiding us, Davie. Do you lead, Keeper, while we come after. We must break trail now, and it will be no light labor."
Raging against the old man's madness, for so I deemed it, I set out with The Keeper to break trail. The Moose plunged straight ahead for the Hills, and his long legs had sunk almost to the shoulder at every step. I wondered how far ahead of us he might be, and when The Keeper knelt down quickly to smell the trail I knew that we must be close upon him.