192 THE STORY OF THE TRAPPER 



Long ago, when rival traders strove for the furs, 

 whisky played a disgracefully prominent part in all 

 bartering,, the drunk Indian being an easier victim than 

 the sober, and the Indian mad with thirst for liquor 

 the most easily cajoled of all. But to-day when there 

 is no competition, whisky plays no part whatever. 

 Whisky is in the fort, so is pain killer, for which the 

 Indian has as keen an appetite, both for the exigencies 

 of hazardous life in an unsparing climate beyond med 

 ical aid; but the first thing Hudson s Bay traders did 

 in 1885, when rebel Indians surrounded the Saskatche 

 wan forts, was to split the casks and spill all alcohol. 

 The second thing was to bury ammunition showing 

 which influence they considered the more dangerous. 



Ermine is at its best when the cold is most intense, 

 the tawny weasel coat turning from fawn to yellow, 

 from yellow to cream and snow-white, according to the 

 latitude north and the season. Unless it is the pelt of 

 the baby ermine, soft as swan s down, tail-tip jet as 

 onyx, the best ermine is not likely to be in a pack 

 brought to the fort as early as Christmas. 



Fox, lynx, mink, marten, otter, and bear, the trapper 

 can take with steel-traps of a size varying with the 

 game, or even with the clumsily constructed deadfall, 

 the log suspended above the bait being heavy or light, 

 according to the hunter s expectation of large or small 

 intruder; but the ermine with fur as easily damaged 

 as finest gauze must be handled differently. 



Going the rounds of his traps, the hunter has noted 

 curious tiny tracks like the dots and dashes of a tele 

 graphic code. Here are little prints slurring into one 

 another in a dash ; there, a dead stop, where the quick- 

 eared stoat has paused with beady eyes alert for snow- 



