A DANGEROUS TRIP. 67 



been unusually pretty, would have been disregarded. 

 Soon the walking became climbing, and after an hour's 

 clambering the summit of the ridge was reached. 

 Here the first trap was lifted, and at intervals of two 

 hundred yards or so, according to the nature of the 

 ground, the others were found distributed. As they 

 had been down for nearly two months, whatever had 

 been captured by them was now in a decomposed state. 

 Soon the whole (over a dozen) had been gathered, 

 when we descended to a stream literally alive with 

 fish; trout of all sizes up to a pound appeared to 

 be actually crowding each other, and so unacquainted 

 were they with man's presence that they totally disre- 

 garded our intrusion. 



Lunch-time had arrived, and on the margin of the 

 brook we enjoyed our meal; several of the trout which 

 my companion had captured with the most primitive 

 line attached to a rod cut from the nearest tree form- 

 ing no inconsiderable portion of the meal. 



After a smoke and half-hour's dawdle, we started 

 on our return, following an entirely different route, 

 equally disadvantageous for rapid progression. During 

 our homeward tramp I learned that martens could only 

 be taken on the highest ridges, and that the bait used 

 was either a red squirrel, the beautiful little cedar bird, 

 or the heart or liver of the swamp hare. I was not 

 a little surprised at the number of times my companion 

 halted to inquire if my gun was all right, more espe- 

 cially as so far we had seen no indications of large 

 game, excepting some decayed stumps and logs, moved 

 where Bruin had been grubbing, or scratched trees 

 where his race from time immemorial had been in the 

 habit of stretching themselves. 



r 2 



