INTO THE TRAP. 
Nee ieee was a trail on the snow running up 
from the frozen river. At a first glance 
it looked merely a line, but closer inspection 
showed it to be the trail of some beast, who 
must have progressed almost solely by canter- 
ing, for the hindfeet landed practically where 
the forefeet had been. 
The forest was still, as only a pine-wood 
can be in winter-time, and so cold that you 
could see the frost floating on the air. 
Then suddenly the maker of the trail in the 
snow returned, silent, snaky, and deadly—a 
mink, the same as ladies use for their muffs. 
He was very low on the leg and long in the 
body, and carried the cruel, wedge-shaped, 
smart head of all the weasels, but more so. 
Suddenly, between stride and stride, the 
beast became motionless, and in that position 
—one paw uplifted, head out, eyes fixed— 
remained, till it seemed as if he must have 
frozen stiff with the cold. Nothing appeared 
to the keenest eye in front of the mink, 
nothing above, nothing around—just snow, 
snow, snow everywhere. 
Then the beast rushed forward—not sprang, 
but charged—low and sure, and with an in- 
