THE RARE FURS 301 



to join a lower river. He knows, too, from the rich orange of the 

 plumage that the hawk is young. An older fellow would not be 

 advertising his intentions in this fashion. Besides, an older hawk 

 would have russet-gray feathering. Is the rascally young hawk 

 meditating a clutch of talons round some of the unsuspecting trout 

 that usually frequent the quiet pools below a waterfall ? Or does 

 he aim at bigger game ? A young hawk is bold with the courage 

 that has not yet learned the wisdom of caution. That is why there 

 are so many more of the brilliant young red hawks in our museums 

 than old grizzled gray veterans whose craft circumvents the speci- 

 men hunter's cunning. Now the trapper comes to have as keen a 

 sense of feel for all the creatures of the wilds as the creatures of the 

 wilds have for man ; so he shifts his position that he may find what 

 is attracting the hawk. 



Down on the pebbled beach below the waterfall lies an auburn 

 bundle of fui, about the size of a very long, slim, short-legged cat, 

 still as a stone — some member of the weasel family gorged torpid 

 with fish, stretched out full length to sleep in the sun. To sleep, 

 ah, yes, and as the Danish prince said, "perchance to dream"; 

 for all the little fellows of river and prairie take good care never to 

 sleep where they are exposed to their countless enemies. This 

 sleep of the weasel arouses the man's suspicion. The trapper draws 

 out his field-glass. The sleeper is a mink, and its sleep is a sham, with 

 beady, red eyes blinking a deal too lively for real death. Why 

 does it lie on its back rigid and straight as if it were dead, with all 

 four tiny paws clutched out stiff ? The trapper scans the surface of 

 the swamp to see if some foolish muskrat is swimming dangerously 

 near the sleeping mink. 



Presently the hawk circles lower — lower ! — Drops straight 

 as a stone ! Its talons are almost in the mink's body, when of a 

 sudden the sleeper awakens — awakens — with a leap of the four 

 stiff little feet and a darting spear-thrust of snapping teeth deep in the 

 neck of the hawk ! At first the hawk rises, tearing furiously at the 

 clinging mink with its claws. The wings sag. Down bird and 



