62 THE SNOW-WALKERS. 



way to bring in his fur. The snow had done its 

 work effectually, and, he believed, had kept his secret 

 well. Arrived in sight of the locality, he strained 

 his vision to make out 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 

 foot-print near it. Looking up the hill, he saw where 

 Reynard 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 exhuming the iron, he walked home 

 with it, the stream of silver quarters suddenly setting 

 in another direction. 



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. Emboldened by success, like 



