“ Look, Your Majesty, at my gaunt sides--am I not like one that is already skinned by the Trappers?"
"He is making much talk," whispered the Red Widow, "to the end that you forget the murder of Trowel Tail's Sons."
"Didst like Beaver Meat?" queried Black King, abruptly.
"I am not the slayer of Umisk's children," denied Lynx. "It was Wapoos, or Whisky-Jack; they are mischief makers, and ready for any evil."
"Oh, you silly liar!" cried Carcajou, in derision. "Wapoos the Rabbit kill a Beaver? Why not say the Moon came down and ate them up. ”

“ Then he walked gingerly in a big circle all about the glamourous centre-piece of sweet-smelling meat, his nose prospecting every inch of the ground. Something had evidently disturbed the snow where François had smoothed it down. Three circles he completed like this; each one smaller and closer to the Bait. Three lengths of himself from the covered-danger he sat down again, and tried to think it out.
"It can't be a Trap," he mused; "nothing has walked where the eating is, that much is certain. François can smooth the white ground-cover down, but can't put a crust on it. ”

“ Mooswa straightened his head sharp into the wind--it still held steady from the North. "Their scent comes from the second point, and we must trail again; the Firestick is not like a Dog--it bites beyond reach. Get in my horns, Rof, and I'll carry you."
"No," said Blue Wolf, decidedly; "each takes his own hurt to his Burrow--that is the way of the Pack; each to himself in the fight--one down is all on top. Besides, Comrade, your long legs are knocking together in weariness; the snow drinks much of your red blood." ”

“ Mooswa understood. As he slashed by Blue Wolf, almost touching him, the close-following Stag-hound sprang for his quarters, all but dragging him to earth; but the fangs failed to hold, tearing a gash down Moose's thigh, and as the Dog fell sideways a pair of jaws, strong as a bear-trap, closed on his lean throat.
"Hold fast, Brother!" wheezed Mooswa, swinging around in his own length, and making a vicious sword-cut at the hound's back with his iron hoof. A second dog sprang at the Bull's throat, only to strike the big antlers quickly lowered to guard it. ”

“ Nobody told François; it was your own big feet, Muskwa. If you weren't half asleep you'd know that you left a trail like the passing of Train Dogs."
"How shall we spring the Trap?" asked Bear.
"Don't touch it," commanded Carcajou. "Just leave it, and François will spend many days waiting for your thick fur."
"But if I 'hole-up' here the Man will break into my house and kill me while I sleep."
"How can he find you?" asked Jack, incredulously. "It's going to snow again, you'll be all covered up deep and he'll never know where you are."
"Won't he, Little Brother? Man is not so stupid. ”

“ Lynx laughed maliciously at this thrust. "Isn't Wolverine a witty chap?" he said, fawningly, to Blue Wolf.
"I know what that cunning little end is for," declared Muskrat; "I'll tell you what Beaver does with the sticks under water, and then you'll understand."
Black King yawned as though all this bored him. "He doesn't like to hear his rival praised," sneered Whisky-Jack; "it makes him sleepy."
"Well," continued Wuchusk, "Beaver floats the Poplar down to his pond, to a little place just up stream from his lodge, with a nice, soft bottom. ”

“ The pain crept up his leg, up his back, and, as the hours dragged on, the dreary, lonesome hours, it mounted to his brain, and the queer fancies of approaching delirium carried him to a fairy land peopled by unreal things. He had just sanity enough to keep the chimney fire going, but his little pile of wood dwindled until the last stick was placed on the coals. When in the afternoon Carcajou dropped three billets that Umisk had cut down the chimney, Roderick laughed. He was a King in delirium-land, and when he wanted anything all he had to do was pray, and the angels would send it. ”

“ Rising up, Black King crept cautiously towards the fascinating object. His foot went through the snow crust. "This wouldn't bear up a Baby Lynx," he thought. "Neither François nor any other Man can have been near that Meat."
He took another step--and another, eyes and nose inspecting every inch of the snow. He could almost reach it; another step, and as his paw sank through the crust it touched something smooth and slippery. There was a clang of iron, and the bone of his left fore-leg was clamped tight in the cruel jaws of a Fox Trap. ”

“ I think I'll go to bed to-morrow for all Winter. You fellows have kept me up too late now."
"Give me a paw to break the ice in the stream, Muskwa--I'm going to cache this Trap," said Carcajou.
"All right," yawned Bear; "I can hardly keep my eyes open. I'm afraid my liver is out of order."
"Shouldn't eat so much," piped Whisky-Jack.
Muskwa slouched down to the river; Wolverine grabbed up the Trap in his strong jaws and followed. Bruin scraped the snow to one side deftly, uncovering a patch of the young ice, and two or three powerful blows from his mighty paw soon shivered a hole in it. ”

“ I wish he hadn't followed me--I wish I hadn't killed him."
"THE BALL STRUCK ME IN THE SHOULDER, AND MADE ME FURIOUS WITH RAGE." "You were justified, Mooswa," said Black King; "there is no blame--that is the Law of the Forest:--
"'First we run for our lives,
Then we fight for our lives:
And we turn at bay when the killer drives."
"Bravo, bravo!" applauded Whisky-Jack. "Don't fret about the Indian, old Jelly-Nose. I'm glad you killed him. I've heard the White Trappers say that the only good Indians are the dead ones." ”

“ All the Council pointed their heads up wind, and it smote raw in their questioning faces.
"Gh-u-r-r!" growled Blue Wolf, "I know; when comes this wind-wrath of the Mountains, Mooswa?"
"To-night, or to-morrow," answered the Bull.
"Then lie we close from the time the light fails this day until it is all over; each to his Burrow, each to his hollow tree, each to his thick bush," continued Rof. "François will not have reached The Landing yet, either. Dogs are not like Wolves--perhaps the blizzard will smother them."
"The Breed-man has the cunning of all Animals together," asserted Carcajou. ”

“ For nothing on earth will satisfy a Wolverine's curiosity but complete investigation.
He gave a spring, grabbed the top of the chimney with his strong fore-legs, and pulled himself up. As he did so the soft mud collapsed and sank with a tremendous crash through the hole in the roof, carrying the reckless animal with it.
"Run for it!" commanded Black King, sharply; "that mischievous Devil has made a mess of the business."
"Whif! Wuf! Whiff!" grunted Bear, plunging through the thicket.
Black Fox melted silently into the Forest darkness as swiftly as a cloud-shadow crosses a sunlit plain. ”

“ Once he thought the call of a rifle struck on his ear--it was the crash of an uprooted tree, almost deadened by the torturing wind-noises.
The cold crept into his marrow. All night he kept the fire going, and by dawn his supply of wood had dwindled to nothing; he must have more, or perish. Just outside in the yard François had left a pile of dry Poplar. Almost choked by the snow-powdered air, Rod laboured with his axe to cut enough for the day. At intervals he worked, from time to time thawing out his numbed muscles by the fire-place. ”

“ Near the Trap François deposited two pieces of meat.
"If the Old Lady comes out she'll get her toes pinched," remarked Carcajou.
Black Fox laughed. "When François catches Mother, we all shall be very dead."
When the Trapper had gone, the Comrades drew close, and gingerly reconnoitred. "Only one Trap!" cried Carcajou; "this is too easy." Cautiously fishing about in the snow he found a chain; pulling the Trap out, he gave it a yank--something touched the centre-plate, and it went off with a vicious snap that made their hearts jump.
"Is the Bait all right, Whisky-Jack," asked Black King. ”

“ He had never seen a Moose act as this one did. Usually they raced at full speed for miles at first, tiring themselves out in the deep snow; while behind, never halting, never hesitating, followed the grim Hunter, skimming easily over the surface with his light-travelling snow-shoes--and the certainty that in the end he would overtake his victim. But this chase was on altogether new lines; something the Half-breed had never experienced. Mooswa kept just beyond range of his gun. A dozen times inside of the first hour François caught sight of the magnificent antlers. ”

“ Bruin was sleepy and cranky. "Quick! wake up, Brother!" Black Fox shouted in his ear. The Bear never moved--simply snored.
The energetic visitor turned tail on, and proceeded to rake Bruin's ribs with his strong hind feet as a dog makes the gravel fly. Muskwa grunted and simply flicked his short, woolly ears. The King jumped on him, set up the long howl of the Kill in his very face, put his sharp teeth through one of the nerveless ears, and generally held a small riot over the sleeper. He never would have managed to wake Bear had not Blue Wolf arrived to help him. ”

“ That night the storm still raged, and his wound brought a delirium pain which made his fancies even more realistic. Whisky-Jack heard him moaning and talking to strange people.
Next morning a cold sun came up on a still, tired atmosphere. The fierce blizzard had sucked all life out of the air: the Spruces' long arms, worn out with swaying and battling, hung asleep in the dead calm: a whisper might have been heard a mile away.
At the first glint of light Jack spread his wings, and, travelling fast to the home of Black Fox, told of Rod's helpless condition. ”

“ Mooswa asked of the Jay.
"Badly, great Bull, badly. One time he takes the two Fish this dead thief left,--unwillingly enough no doubt,--in his hand, and looks at them pitiably; takes the white Dry-eating--Flour, Men call it,--and decides of its weight: then with the little stick which makes a black mark he lines cross-trails on a board, and mutters about so many pounds of Eating for so many days, and always ends by saying: 'It can't be done--I shall starve.' Then he comes to the door and looks over the river trail which way went François, as though he too would pull out for The Landing." ”

“ I don't know any animal so bad as a Man, unless it's a Hermit Beaver."
"What's a Hermit Beaver, you of the little fore-feet?" asked Jay.
Umisk sighed wearily. "For a Bird that has travelled as much as you have, Jack, you are wondrous devoid of knowledge. Have you never seen Red Jack, the Hermit?"
"I have," declared Pisew, "he has a piece out of the side of his tail."
"Perhaps you have, perhaps you have; but all hermits are marked that way--that's the sign. You see, once in a while a Beaver is born lazy--won't work--will do nothing but steal other people's Poplar and eat it. ”

“ I shall soon have to creep into a warm nest for my long sleep."
"Hast seen any of our Comrades?" queried Wapoos, as he lay in the velvet cushion of black fur that was a good four inches deep on Bear's back.
"I heard Rof's hoarse bay as he called across the Pelican to some one. Here is Nekik's trail, where his belly has scraped all the mud spots."
"Aren't we a funny lot?" giggled Wapoos. "Mooswa's legs are like the posts of Man's cache--so long; and Otter's are like the knots on a tree--too short. See! there goes Black King and his red-headed Mother." ”

“ Black Fox thus put the case wisely to the others.
"Gr-a-a-h-wuh! let me speak," cried Blue Wolf. "Pisew has done this thing. If any in my Pack make a kill and I come to speak of it, do I not know from their eyes that grow tired, which it is?"
Said the Lieutenant, Carcajou: "I think you are right, Rof; but you can't hang a Comrade because he has weak eyes. No one has seen Pisew make the kill. We must have a new law, Your Majesty. That if again Kit-Beaver, or Cub-Fox, or Babe-Wapoos, or Young-Anyone is slain for eating, we shall all, sitting in Council, decide who is to pay the penalty. ”

“ The Boy cut a small piece of fat pork, stuck it on a sharp stick, and busied himself somewhat at the stove front; but the watchers could not quite see what he was doing.
"I think I'll give Jay some breakfast," he said suddenly; "the bird seems hungry:" and straightening his back, threw towards him the lump of pork.
With a pleased chuckle Jack swooped down and drove his beak into the white mass like a lance. Then he went through a rare set of gymnastic contortions, for the wicked Boy had heated the pork scalding hot. Jack clawed at it with his feet and burnt his toes--his tongue was blistered. ”

“ Mooswa is still plentiful in the forests of the Athabasca, and is the embodiment of dignity among animals.
There is no living thing more characteristic of the Northern land than Whisky-Jack, the Jay. Wherever a traveller stops, on plain or in forest, and uncovers food, there will be one or two of these saucy, thieving birds. Where they nest, or how, is much of a mystery. I never met but one man who claimed to have found Jack's nest, and this man, a Trapper, was of rather an imaginative turn of mind. ”

“ It was the Half-breed's spade that had drawn forth this remark.
"Yes," declared Whisky-Jack wisely, "one time the Men were like you--walked on four legs and used a trowel-tail for their building; now they stand upright, and have shed the trowel which they use in their hands."
"Wonderful!" soliloquized Umisk; "still they can't do as good work. Fat Poplar! but it's a poor Lodge. The only sensible thing about it is the mud roof."
François struck the clod sharply with his spade, settling it into place. "How clumsily the Man works," cried Beaver; "I'm glad my tail is where it is. ”

“ THE EXPLORATION OF CARCAJOU
At sunset on the Fourth day Black King and his party once more crouched in the willows at Red Stone Brook. François and his young friend were just putting some finishing touches to the Shack roof--placing the last earth sods on top of the poles, for it was a mud covering.
"It's nearly finished," whispered Jay.
"Strong Teeth! but that is funny," laughed Beaver.
"What is funny, Eater of Wood?" queried Jack.
"Why, the Man carries his trowel-tail in his front paws. I wish I could do that. I have to turn around to look when I'm doing a nice bit of plastering." ”

“ Last Winter François trapped on Hay River. I was there; as you know, it is a great place for Black Currants."
"Do you eat the bitter, sour Berries, Your Majesty?" queried Marten.
"No, Silly; except for the flavour of them that is in the flesh of Gay Cock, the Pheasant. But it is in every child's book of the Fox tribe, that where Berries are thick, the Birds are many."
"How comes François here to the Pelican this year, then?" growled Blue Wolf.
"Because of the thing Men call Fate," answered Black King, learnedly; "though they do not understand the shape of it. ”

“ No, I withdraw in favour of Black Fox, and we won't even mention your name. Black Fox has been a good King; he has saved many of us from a Trap; besides, he wears the Royal Robe. Look at him! his Mother and all his Brothers and Sisters are red, except Stripes, the Baby, who is a Cross; does that not show that he has been selected for royal honours? Among ourselves each one is like his Brother--there is little difference. The Minks are alike, the Otter are alike, the Wolves are alike--all are alike; except, of course, that one may be a little larger or a little darker than the other. ”

“ I've tramped up and down the banks of the river eating white Buffalo-berries and red Cranberries until I'm weary. They are so small, and I am so big; it keeps me busy all day."
"You've got stout on it," chuckled Jack. "I wish I could get fat."
"You talk too much, and fret yourself to death over other people's business," growled Bear. "You're a meddling Tramp."
"Muskwa," said Mink, "there are bushels and bushels of big, juicy, Black Currants up in the Muskeg, near the creek I fish in--I wish I could eat them. Swimming, swimming all day after little frightened Fish, that are getting so cunning. ”

“ I, Jack the Gabbler, flew till my wings were tired warning you to beware."
"You might have saved yourself the trouble," retorted Wolverine; "Black King would have found it with his nose. Can he not tell even if any Man has touched the Meat that is always a Bait?"
"Stupid!" exclaimed Jack; "do you think the Men are such fools? They handle not the Bait which is put in the Traps--they know that all the brains you chaps have are in your noses. Catch François, the Half-breed, doing that; he's too clever. He cuts it with a long knife, and handles it with a stick. ”

“ Whisky-Jack preened his mischievous head, ruffled his blue-gray feathers, broke into the harsh, cackling laugh of the Jay, and sneered, "Eating! always of eating; and never a more beautiful song to you, or--"
"Less thieving to you, eh, Mister Jay," growled Muskwa. "You who come by your eating easily have it not so heavily on your mind as we Toilers." ”

“ That is a thing to be settled amongst themselves--the Man-kill is not for us."
"I talk not of killing!" snarled Blue Wolf, surlily; "when our cry goes up, François will take the back-trail, and keep it till he is safe within the walls of his own Shack--that's what I mean."
"It is well!" affirmed the King, approvingly; "act thus, Comrades. We are not like Man, who slays for the sake of slaying, and calls it sport."
"Most generous Black King!" exclaimed Pisew, with an evil smirk.
Mooswa and Blue Wolf started off together. ”