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Show 82 "It's too heavy for him," Cap called frantically. He swept the sky for any sign of the returning thieves. 'You can do it, Chinook!" Josh pleaded. He knelt by the side of the dog and hugged him. Then he jumped up and with the lead rope in hand, pulled on the harness. "Let's go, Chinook. HYYYAH, MUSH!" The big malamute threw his shoulders into the harness with all his might, strained, heaved, and took a step forward, then two steps. He had never pulled a travois before, but within fifty yards he was jouncing along behind the boys, who were whooping along before him. "That's it. Good dog," called Josh. In another twenty minutes they had covered the remaining distance to reach the pinyons where they had camped the previous night near the canyon rim. Twice the dog had got the travois stuck between trees, and they had had to stop to untangle him. But now that be had the hang of pulling the heavy load, Chinook mushed along as if this was the work he had been born to. He seemed to sense the urgency, and pricked up his ears each time the helicopter turned toward them. Each time, he allowed himself to be led under the cover of whatever brush was handiest until it passed. Inside the helicopter, Rollins sat grim-faced between his two partners. When he had finally flagged down the searching pilot, he had thought their troubles were over. But when they returned to the cabin . . . now the whole scheme was falling apart at the seams. He had never seen men so angry, just because he had left the cabin while he got the pilot's attention. |