50 WINTER SUNSHINE 



his prize lodged against the fence at the foot of the 

 hill. Approaching nearer, the surface was unbroken, 

 and doubt usurped the place of certainty in his 

 mind. A slight mound marked the site of the 

 porker, but there was no footprint near it. Look- 

 ing up the hill, he saw where Keynard had walked 

 leisurely down toward his wonted bacon till within 

 a few yards of it, when he had wheeled, and with 

 prodigious strides disappeared in the woods. The 

 young trapper saw at a glance what a comment this 

 was upon his skill in the art, and, indignantly ex- 

 huming the iron, he walked home with it, the stream 

 of silver quarters suddenly setting in another direc- 

 tion. 



The successful trapper commences in the fall, or 

 before the first deep snow. In a field not too re- 

 mote, with an old axe he cuts a small place, say 

 ten inches by fourteen, in the frozen ground, and 

 removes the earth to the depth of three or four 

 inches, then fills the cavity with dry ashes, in 

 which are placed bits of roasted cheese. Reynard 

 is very suspicious at first, and gives the place a 

 wide berth. It looks like design, and he will see 

 how the thing behaves before he approaches too 

 near. But the cheese is savory and the cold severe. 

 He ventures a little closer every night, until he 

 can reach and pick a piece from the surface. Em- 

 boldened by success, like other mortals, he pres- 

 ently digs freely among the ashes, and, finding a 

 fresh supply of the delectable morsels every night, 

 is soon thrown off his guard and his suspicions quite 



