"
Langdon boxed his glasses and rose to his feet. Suddenly he grew rigid.
"What was that?"
"I didn't hear anything," said Bruce.
For a moment they stood side by side, listening. A gust of wind whistled
about their ears. It died away.
"Hear it!" whispered Langdon, and his voice was filled with a sudden
excitement.
"The dogs!" cried Bruce.
"Yes, the dogs!"
They leaned forward, their ears turned to the south, and faintly there came
to them the distant, thrilling tongue of the Airedales!
Metoosin had come, and he was seeking them in the valley!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Thor was on what the Indians call a _pimootao_. His brute mind had all at
once added two and two together, and while perhaps he did not make four of
it, his mental arithmetic was accurate enough to convince him that straight
north was the road to travel.
By the time Langdon and Bruce had reached the summit of the Bighorn
Highway, and were listening to the distant tongueing of the dogs, little
Muskwa was in abject despair. Following Thor had been like a game of tag
with never a moment's rest.
An hour after they left the sheep trail they came to the rise in the valley
where the waters separated. From this point one creek flowed southward into
the Tacla Lake country and the other northward into the Babine, which was a
tributary of the Skeena.
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