KOOT AND THE BOB-CAT 221 



storm. The fort lay in a valley. Somewhere between 

 Koot and that valley ran a trail. What if he had 

 crossed the trail? What if the storm came and wiped 

 out the trail before he could reach the fort? All day, 

 whisky-jack and snow-bunting and fox scurried from 

 his presence; but this night in the dusk when he felt 

 forward on his hands and knees for the expected trail, 

 the wild creatures seemed to grow bolder. He im 

 agined that he felt the coyotes closer than on the other 

 nights. And then the fearful thought came that he 

 might have passed the trail unheeding. Should he 

 turn back? 



Afraid to go forward or back, Koot sank on the 

 ground, unhooded his face and tried to force his eyes 

 to see. The pain brought biting salty tears. It was 

 quite useless. Either the night was very dark, or the 

 eyes were very blind. 



And then white man or Indian who shall say 

 which came uppermost? Koot cried out to the Great 

 Spirit. In mockery back came the saucy scold of a 



jay- 



But that was enough for Koot it was prompt 

 answer to his prayer; for where do the jays quarrel and 

 fight and flutter but on the trail? Eunning eagerly 

 forward, the trapper felt the ground. The rutted 

 marks of a &quot; jumper &quot; sleigh cut the hard crust. With 

 a shout, Koot headed down the sloping path to the 

 valley where lay the fur post, the low hanging smoke 

 of whose chimneys his eager nostrils had already 

 sniffed. 



