Raymond S. Spears

“ French Louie could even see, if the slant of the sun was right, the faint blemish on the ice where the soft pads of foxes slightly stained the perfect polish.
Then the snow fell and covered the crust with a soft fluff, through which the survivors lunged and pounded. Foxes roamed far and wide; pekans plunged along, their short jumps showing how tired they were. The rabbits made deep runways, and the few grouse which had found shelter under tight balsams, instead of diving into the snow, flew around seeking birch and other buds that were not incased in the ice. ”

“ At last he had the snow-shoe ready to walk upon, but the day was near its end, and there was no time for him to fix his traps along the rest of his line. He must hurry on to reach shelter.
Dusk came early, but lasted long. Night fell, and still French Louie was tramping stolidly on his trail. He had been over it times enough now to have the feel of it under his feet, and to know it by its shadow. He had to favor his snow-shoes, for the left one was weak, too, where he had unthinkingly pounded the webbing to rid it of the weight of damp snow. ”

“ The snow ate the ice off the branches, and gradually the limbs shook it clear. On the ground, the snow first absorbed the polish of the ice-crust and then granulated it, and only a line indicated where the frozen sheet had been. Then French Louie had to put on his snow-shoes, and the trip from camp to camp along his line strained his tendons and dragged heavily upon the muscles of his back. ”