THE INDIAN TRAPPER 135 



which hunters dream, as prospectors of gold, and specu 

 lators of stocks, and actors of fame. But the wolves, 

 the great, black wolves of the Far North, with eyes 

 full of a treacherous green fire and teeth like tusks, 

 had torn the fur to scraps and devoured the fox not 

 an hour before the trapper came. 



He knows now what his enemy is ; for he has come 

 so suddenly on their trail he can count four different 

 footprints, and claw-marks of different length. They 

 have fought about the little fox; and some of the 

 smaller wolves have lost fur over it. Then, by the 

 blood-marks, he can tell they have got under cover of 

 the shrub growth to the right. 



The Indian says none of the words which the white 

 man might say; but that is nothing to his credit; for 

 just now no words are adequate. But he takes prompt 

 resolution. After the fashion of the old Mosaic law, 

 which somehow is written on the very face of the wil 

 derness as one of its necessities, he decides that only 

 life for life will compensate such loss. The danger of 

 hunting the big, brown wolf he knows too well to at 

 tempt it without help. He will bait his small traps 

 with poison ; take out his big, steel wolf traps to-mor 

 row; then with a band of young braves follow the 

 wolf-pack s trail during this lull in the hunting season. 



But the animal world knows that old trick of draw 

 ing a herring scent across the trail of wise intentions ; 

 and of all the animal world, none knows it better than 

 the brown arctic wolf. He carries himself with less 

 of a hang-dog air than his brother wolves, with the 

 same pricking forward of sharp, erect ears, the same 

 crouching trot, the same sneaking, watchful green 

 eyes; but his tail, which is bushy enough to brush out 



