152 THE STORY OF THE TRAPPER 



covered logs and earth wall, a pit with grass clawed 

 down into it, snug and hidden and sheltered as a bird s 

 nest. If the pit is what Ba tiste thinks, somewhere on 

 the banks of the stream should be a watering-place. 

 Pie proposes that they beach the canoes and camp here. 

 Twilight is not a good time to still hunt an unseen 

 bear. Twilight is the time when the bear himself 

 goes still hunting. Ba tiste will go out in the early 

 morning. Meantime if he stumbles on what looks like 

 a trail to the watering-place, he will set a trap. 



Camp is not for the regular trapper what it is for 

 the amateur hunter a time of rest and waiting while 

 others skin the game and prepare supper. 



One hunter whittles the willow sticks that are to 

 make the camp fire. Another gathers moss or boughs 

 for a bed. If fish can be got, some one has out a line. 

 The kettle hisses from the cross-bar between notched 

 sticks above the fire, and the meat sizzling at the end 

 of a forked twig sends up a flavour that whets every 

 appetite. Over the upturned canoes bend a couple of 

 men gumming afresh all the splits and seams against 

 to-morrow s voyage. Then with a flip-flop that tells of 

 the other side of the flap-jacks being browned, the cook 

 yodels in crescendo that &quot; Sup per ! s read ee ! &quot; 



Supper over, a trap or two may be set in likely 

 places. The men may take a plunge; for in spite of 

 their tawny skins, these earth-coloured fellows have 

 closer acquaintance with water than their appearance 

 would indicate. The man-smell is as acute to the 

 beast s nose as the rank fur-animal-smell is to the 

 man s nose; and the first thing that an Indian who has 

 had a long run of ill-luck does is to get a native 

 &quot; sweating-bath &quot; and make himself clean. 



