218 THE STORY OF THE TRAPPER 



rounds of the swamp; but the crust was a sign that 

 warned him it was time to prepare for the marten- 

 hunt. To leave his furs at the fort, he must cross the 

 prairie while it was yet good travelling for the dog. 

 Dismantling the little cabin, Koot packed the pelts on 

 the toboggan, roped all tightly so there could be no 

 spill from an upset, and putting the mongrel in the 

 traces, led the way for the fort one night when the 

 snow-crust was hard as ice. 



The moon came up over the white fields in a great 

 silver disk. Between the running man and the silver 

 moon moved black skulking forms the foragers on 

 their night hunt. Sometimes a fox loped over a drift, 

 or a coyote rose ghostly from the snow, or timber- 

 wolves dashed from wooded ravines and stopped to look 

 till Koot fired a shot that sent them galloping. 



In the dark that precedes daylight, Koot camped 

 beside a grove of poplars that is, he fed the dog a 

 fish, whittled chips to make a fire and boil some tea 

 for himself, then digging a hole in the drift with 

 his snow-shoe, laid the sleigh to windward and cud 

 dled down between bear-skins with the dog across his 

 feet. 



Daylight came in a blinding glare of sunshine and 

 white snow. The way was untrodden. Koot led at 

 an ambling run, followed by the dog at a fast trot, so 

 that the trees were presently left far on the offing and 

 the runners were out on the bare white prairie with 

 never a mark, tree or shrub, to break the dazzling 

 reaches of sunshine and snow from horizon to horizon. 

 A man who is breaking the way must keep his eyes on 

 the ground; and the ground was so blindingly bright 



