Mooswa & Others of the Boundaries Part 15

He cut a stick four feet long and four inches thick, and to the middle of it fastened a running noose made from cod-line. Then building a stockade similar to the last, and placing a fish-head smeared with Castoreum inside, he bent down a small Poplar and from it suspended the noose covering the entrance to the stockade.

"Now, Mister Lynk he go for smell dat," explained Francois. "He put hes fat head t'rough dat noose; perhaps he don't get him out no more. By Goss! he silly; when dat string get tight he fight wid de stick, an'

jump, and play de fool. De stick don't say not'ing, but jump too, of course, cause it loose, you see. If de stick be fas' den de Lynk break de string; but dis way dey fight, an' by an' by dat Lynk he dead for soor, I t'ink me."

"He has queer taste," said The Boy, "to risk his neck for that stuff--it's worse than a Skunk."

They moved on, and behind, quite out of sight, but examining each contrivance of the Trapper, came Black Fox, Muskwa, Blue Wolf, Mooswa, and Carcajou. Whisky-Jack was with them; now flying ahead to discover where the enemy were, now fluttering back with a dismal "Pee weep! Pee weep!" to report and rail at things generally.

Carcajou at times travelled on three legs. "Got a thorn in your foot?"

queried the Jay? solicitously.

"Toes are cold," answered Wolverine, shortly.

"He-a-weep!" laughed Whisky-Jack, sneeringly; "they were hot enough last night, when you called on Francois through the chimney. Whose toes are sore to-day, Mister Carcajou? And the fur is burnt off your back--excuse me while I laugh;" and the Bird gave vent to a harsh, cackling chuckle.

"h.e.l.lo!" Carcajou exclaimed, suddenly. "I smell Castoreum; or is it Sikak the Skunk?"

When they came to the Lynx Snare, almost immediately, he circled around gingerly in the snow, examining every bush, and stick, and semblance of track; then he peered into the little stockade. "It's all right!" he declared; "that Francois is a double-dealing Breed. I have known him set a Snare like this for Pisew, and a little to one side put a Number Four Steel Trap, nicely covered up, to catch an unsuspicious, simple-minded Wolverine."

"Why don't you also say _honest, modest_, Wolverine?" derided Whisky-Jack.

"But that's a Snare for Pisew, right enough," continued Carcajou.

"It is!" added Black Fox.

"Watch me spring it!" commanded Carcajou, tearing with his strong jaws and stronger feet at the fastening which held down the bent poplar.

Swis.h.!.+ And the freed sapling shot into the air, dangling the cord like a hangman's noose invitingly before their eyes. "Now if any one wants the Fish-head, he may have it," he added.

"Not with Castoreum Sauce," said Black Fox. Even Blue Wolf turned his nose up at it.

"Well, I'll eat it myself," bravely remarked Wolverine, "for I'm hungry."

"You always are, 'Gulo the Glutton,' as Men call you," twittered Jay.

"I don't care for hot pork, though," retorted the other, making a grimace at the Bird.

"I believe they are heading for your house, Black Fox," remarked Rof, as they trudged on again.

"Francois is setting a Trap in the King's Palace--in the Court Yard,"

cried Whisky-Jack, fluttering back to meet them. Sure enough, as the friends crouched in a little coulee they could see the Half-breed covering up a "No. 3" directly in front of Fox's hole. Near the Trap Francois deposited two pieces of meat.

"If the Old Lady comes out she'll get her toes pinched," remarked Carcajou.

Black Fox laughed. "When Francois 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 fis.h.i.+ng 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. "Was there any talk of White Powder?"

"There's nothing in it," replied the Bird; "I saw them cut the Meat."

"Well, Jack and I will eat one piece; there's a piece for you, Rof. In this year of scarce food even the Death Bait is acceptable--though it's but a tooth-full. Are you hungry, Muskwa?"

"No; I am sleepy. 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 sc.r.a.ped the snow to one side deftly, uncovering a patch of the young ice, and two or three powerful blows from his mighty paw soon s.h.i.+vered a hole in it. Carcajou dropped the Trap through, saying, "It will close over to-night, and to-morrow perhaps the wind will cover it with snow."

The King looked on admiringly.

"Bra-vo! br-a-a-vo!" growled Blue Wolf. "I might have put my foot in that when I came to visit the Widow."

And so all day the conspirators followed Francois and The Boy, undoing their work.

To Muskwa's horror, near the nest he had prepared for his long Winter's rest they found a huge Bear Trap. At sight of its yawning jaws drops of perspiration dripped from Bruin's tongue. "Sweet Sleep! what should I do if I were to put a leg in that awful thing--it would crack the bone, I believe. Who in the name of Forest Fools told Francois where my house was?"

"Whisky-Jack, likely," snapped Carcajou, malignantly.

"Not I," declared Jay--"I swear it! I keep the Law. What evil I've got to say of any one, I say to his face; I'm no traitor. You're a thief, Carcajou--your ears were cut off for stealing! Your head's as smooth as a Bird's egg, and you're a quarrelsome Blackguard--but did I ever accuse you of betraying our Comrades?"

"Never mind, Sweet Singer," answered Wolverine, apologetically, "I didn't mean it. n.o.body told Francois; it was your own big feet, Muskwa.

If you weren't half asleep you'd know that you left a trail like the pa.s.sing of Train Dogs."

"How shall we spring the Trap?" asked Bear.

"Don't touch it," commanded Carcajou. "Just leave it, and Francois 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. How do you suppose I breathe? There'll be a little hole right up through the snow, all yellow about the edges, and Francois will find that; also, if there's frost in the air, see my breath. No; I've got to make another nest now. I should have turned in before the snow fell, then I'd have been all right."

"We'll help you fix a new house," said Black King; "but you had better wait--perhaps this snow will go away; then there will be no tracks to lead Trappers to your nest. It is really too bad to keep you up when you are so sleepy, but it's the only way."

"And to think how I worked over it," lamented Muskwa. "For a week I carried sticks until my arms ached; and sc.r.a.ped up leaves, and spruce boughs, and soft moss, until my hands were sore. It would have been the finest 'hole-up' of any Bear within the Boundaries. Umisk boasts about his old Mud Lodge, with the lower floor all flooded with water--it's enough to give one rheumatism. New Ant Hills! I shouldn't like to live in a cold, cheerless place like that. If I had just pulled all that nice warm covering over me before the snow fell, I should have been as comfortable as little Gopher in his hole. It's too bad!"

"I'll tell you what we will do, Muskwa," said Black King; "we'll ask the Old Lady about this thing. You wouldn't mind a nice dry hole in a cut-bank somewhere, would you--if the snow lasts and you can't make another nest? She knows all the empty houses from Athabasca to Peel River. I am in the same fix myself, for the family are moving to-day--though we have lived in our present quarters for a matter of four years."

"That's a King for you!" cried Whisky-Jack. "He's like a Father to us,"

concurred Blue Wolf.

"Now we'll go back," ordered Black Fox; "the Man has set all his Traps.