THE TAKING OF THE BEAVER 105 



a shed tent, complete the trapper s equipment. His 

 dog is not part of the equipment : it is fellow-hunter 

 and companion. 



From the moose must come the heavy filling for the 

 snow-shoes; but the snow-shoes will not be needed for 

 a month, and there is no haste about shooting an un- 

 found moose while mink and musk-rat and otter and 

 beaver are waiting to be trapped. With the dog show 

 ing his wisdom by sitting motionless as an Indian 

 bowman, the trapper steps into his canoe and pushes 

 out. 



Eye and ear alert for sign of game or feeding- 

 place, where traps would be effective, the man paddles 

 silently on. If he travels after nightfall, the chances 

 are his craft will steal unawares close to a black head 

 above a swimming body. With both wind and current 

 meeting the canoe, no suspicion of his presence catches 

 the scent of the sharp-nosed swimmer. Otter or beaver, 

 it is shot from the canoe. With a leap over bow or 

 stern over his master s shoulder if necessary, but 

 never sideways, lest the rebound cause an upset the 

 dog brings back his quarry. But this is only an aside, 

 the hap-hazard shot of an amateur hunter, not the sort 

 of trapping that fills the company s lofts with fur 

 bales. 



While ranging the forest the former season the 

 trapper picked out a large birch-tree, free of knots and 

 underbranching, with the full girth to make the body 

 of a canoe from gunwale to gunwale without any gus 

 sets and seams. But birch-bark does not peel well in 

 winter. The trapper scratched the trunk with a mark 

 of &quot;first-finder-first-owner,&quot; honoured by all hunters; 

 and came back in the summer for the bark. 



