60 Recreations of a Sportsman 



The contact with the snow, full in his face as 

 he rolled, brought him to, and he sprang to his 

 feet, turning to the child. Clear snow met his 

 glance; the bag was gone. With a fierce cry 

 he leaped forward, all the instinct of a moun- 

 taineer and woodsman surging to the surface 

 as he dashed about the tree in a circle, eyes 

 straining down to catch the trail, staring mad 

 for the moment. An animal that could have 

 seized the child would have made a trail lead- 

 ing from the tree, but as he swept around, the 

 snow was as smooth as velvet, not a break in its 

 soft, pure surface; completing the circle, coming 

 upon his own steps, at first mistaking them, 

 Clancy flung himself upon them and looked for 

 the lead. Suddenly a thought penetrated his 

 dull brain, and running to the tree he began to 

 dig with a skee where he had left the child. The 

 first move uncovered the fur bag. A great mass 

 of snow, a tree avalanche, had dropped noise- 

 lessly down and covered bag and child. 



Creeping close beneath the low branches, 

 Clancy cleared away the snow, opened his sleep- 

 ing bag, and crawled in. He had slept perhaps 

 an hour when he awoke with a start; something 

 had given the bag a tug. Throwing back the 

 flap he saw a gray, dog-like creature slink away, 

 then on the night air rose a ventriloquistic howl. 

 Half dazed, he arose to find that one of his skees 

 had been hauled down from where he had thrust 



