THE SNOW-WALKEES 51 



lulled. After a week of baiting in this manner, 

 and on the eve of a light fall of snow, the trapper 

 carefully conceals his trap in the bed, first smoking 

 it thoroughly with hemlock boughs to kill or neu- 

 tralize all smell of the iron. If the weather favors 

 and the proper precautions have been taken, he 

 may succeed, though the chances are still greatly 

 against him. 



Eeynard is usually caught very lightly, seldom 

 more than the ends of his toes being between the 

 jaws. He sometimes works so cautiously as to 

 spring the trap without injury even to his toes, or 

 may remove the cheese night after night without 

 even springing it. I knew an old trapper who, on 

 finding himself outwitted in this manner, tied a bit 

 of cheese to the pan, and next morning had poor 

 Eeynard by the jaw. The trap is not fastened, but 

 only incumbered with a clog, and is all the more 

 sure in its hold by yielding to every effort of the 

 animal to extricate himself. 



When Eeynard sees his captor approaching, he 

 would fain drop into a mouse-hole to render himself 

 invisible. He crouches to the ground and remains 

 perfectly motionless until he perceives himself dis- 

 covered, when he makes one desperate and final 

 effort to escape, but ceases all struggling as you 

 come up, and behaves in a manner that stamps him 

 a very timid warrior, — cowering to the earth with 

 a mingled look of shame, guilt, and abject fear. A 

 young farmer told me of tracing one with his trap 

 to the border of a wood, where he discovered the 



