evidently for the high humped shoulder of Sani'gilagi itself.
Almayne postponed his choice until he had come to the parting of the ways, debating the question in his mind; but in reality his decision was never in doubt. It was not so much old Julah's warning that now urged him on—though this, too, played a part—as it was his own pride, his self-esteem as a woodsman. This elk had fooled him; the chase had been much longer than he had anticipated. He was on his mettle now. He would follow this trail to its end no matter how far it might lead him; and he was sure that it would not lead him much farther.
He realized now that from the beginning of the chase the elk had been heading for Sani'gilagi, the mountain where Almayne had first seen him and which was evidently his home. Knowing the ways of elk, the hunter was confident that on Sani'gilagi Awi Agwa's flight would end. There the great bull would lie down at last to recoup his strength and give his wounded shoulder time to heal; and there Almayne's opportunity would come.
The hunter swung on up the ridge, his alert eyes searching the sun-speckled vistas ahead. Although he considered it almost certain that Awi Agwa would climb Sani'gilagi before he rested, it was pos-
