44 6 The Wilderness Phinter. 



On reaching the pond Bauman found three beaver in 

 the traps, one of which had been pulled loose and carried 

 into a beaver house. He took several hours in securing 

 and preparing the beaver, and when he started homewards 

 he marked with some uneasiness how low the sun was get- 

 ting. As he hurried towards camp, under the tall trees, 

 the silence and desolation of the forest weighed on him. 

 His feet made no sound on the pine needles, and the 

 slanting sun rays, striking through among the straight 

 trunks, made a gray twilight in which objects at a distance 

 glimmered indistinctly. There was nothing to break the 

 ghostly stillness which, when there is no breeze, always 

 broods over these sombre primeval forests. 



At last he came to the edge of the little glade where 

 the camp lay, and shouted as he approached it, but got no 

 answer. The camp fire had gone out, though the thin 

 blue smoke was still curling upwards. Near it lay 

 the packs, wrapped and arranged. At first Bauman 

 could see nobody ; nor did he receive an answer to his 

 call. Stepping forward he again shouted, and as he did 

 so his eye fell on the body of his friend, stretched beside 

 the trunk of a great fallen spruce. Rushing towards it 

 the horrified trapper found that the body was still warm, 

 but that the neck was broken, while there were four great 

 fang marks in the throat. 



The footprints of the unknown beast-creature, printed 

 deep in the soft soil, told the whole story. 



The unfortunate man, having finished his packing, had 

 sat down on the spruce log with his face to the fire, and 

 his back to the dense woods, to wait for his companion. 



