136 THE STORY OF THE TRAPPER 



every trace of his tracks, has not the skulking droop 

 of the gray wolf s; and in size he is a giant among 

 wolves. 



The trapper shoulders his musket again, and keep 

 ing to the open, where he can travel fast on the long 

 snow-shoes, sets out for the next trap. The man-shad 

 ow grows longer. It is late in the afternoon. Then 

 all the shadows merge into the purple gloom of early 

 evening ; but the Indian travels on ; for the circuit of 

 traps leads back to his lodge. 



The wolf thief may not be far off ; so the man takes 

 his musket from the case. He may chance a shot at 

 the enemy. Where there are woods, wolves run under 

 cover, keeping behind a fringe of brush to windward. 

 The wind carries scent of danger from the open, and 

 the brush forms an ambuscade. Man tracks, where 

 man s dog might scent the trail of a wolf, the wolf 

 clears at a long bound. He leaps over open spaces, if 

 he can; and if he can t, crouches low till he has passed 

 the exposure. 



The trapper swings forward in long, straight strides, 

 wasting not an inch of ground, deviating neither to 

 right nor left by as much space as a white man takes 

 to turn on his heels. Suddenly the trapper s dog utters 

 a low whine and stops with ears pricked forward to 

 wards the brush. At the same moment the Indian, who 

 has been keeping his eyes on the woods, sees a form 

 rise out of the earth among the shadows. He is not 

 surprised; for he knows the way the wolf travels, and 

 the fox trap could not have been robbed more than an 

 hour ago. The man thinks he has come on the thieves 

 going to the next trap. That is what the wolf means 



