234 



JPequam 

 ffie J7vs/)er 



my trail I have never been able to find out. 

 It is a good plan, in the winter woods, to 

 scatter food along your trail, for it over- 

 comes the Wood Folk's distrust of man's 

 footprints ; but long before I found that out 

 and practiced it Pequam had followed me. 

 Perhaps he has followed the trappers so 

 long, to steal the bait from their marten 

 traps, that it has become .a habit. 



It was on a morning like this, still and 

 cold and lifeless, that I left the big lumber 

 camp on the Dungarvon and struck off east- 

 ward for the barrens. I was after caribou ; 

 but two miles away in the woods I ran 

 across old Newell the Indian, whose hunt- 

 ing camp was far up the river, moving 

 swiftly along, with his eyes on a fresh trail. 



"Hello, brother! what you hunt urn?" 

 I hailed him. 



For answer he pointed with a grunt to the 

 snow, where a fisher had gone along that 

 morning as if some one were after him. 



" Pequam in a hurry this morning. Thinks 

 if Newell around, fisher better mog along 

 somewhere else," I ventured ; and the grim 



