THE TRAPPER 147 



" You do not mind my weight ?" said the apolo- 

 getic fly in the elephant's ear. 



"Not at all," said the elephant; "I really did 

 not know that you were there." 



The blazed homeward trail was picked up a mile 

 away from the moose yards, out beyond the plateau, 

 over which the river sometimes flowed in spring. 

 Twisting and turning down the tunnels of the 

 trees, it opened up suddenly and dropped to the 

 frozen lake — an occasional short cut home. 



Taking off* his snow-shoe's, the hunter laid them 

 on the sleigh, and stepped out on the river ice in 

 moccasins of moose hide, tanned very soft and 

 phable. He began to feel the sleigh hang heavy 

 on his shoulders, the drag of the ropes irked. 



Dotted down the length of the narrow lake were 

 water-holes, produced by warm springs, over which 

 the ice filmed in hard weather, easily opened water- 

 ways beloved of the musk-rats, who built their 

 winter habita ions, domed heaps of leaves and mud 

 laboriously dragged thither, around them. 



Just as he neared the opposite bank the trapper 

 walked into a not observable water-hole, sinking to 

 his waist, and as the sleigh still stood behind him 

 on hard ice, he counted himself lucky not to have 



