efore the last set
was made, and in the darkness the two swung wide of their trap line, and
headed for the cabin.

"Fifteen sets isn't so bad for an afternoon's work," opined Connie,
"especially when you had to do all the work. Tomorrow I can help, and we
ought to be able to get out all the rest of the marten traps. There are
only fifty all told."

"Fifty steel traps--we git dem set first. We gon 'bout t'ree, four mile
today. We use up de steel trap in 'bout fifteen mile. Dat good--dey too
mooch heavy to carry. Den we begin to set de deadfall."

"Deadfalls!" cried Connie. "How many traps are we going to put out?"

"Oh, couple hondre marten an' mink trap. We git de trap line 'bout fifty
mile long. Den we set lot more _loup cervier_ snare."

They swung out on to their little lake about a mile above the camp and
as they mushed along near shore Connie stopped suddenly and pointed to a
great grey shape that was running swiftly across the mouth of a small
bay. The huge animal ran in a smooth, easy lope and in the starlight his
hair gleamed like silver.

"Look!" he whispered to the Indian. "There goes Leloo!" Even as he spoke
there came floating down the wind from the direction of the timber at
the head of the lake, the long-drawn howl of a wolf. Leloo halted in
his tracks and stood ears erect, motionless as a carved statue, until
the sound trailed away into silence. A fox trotted out of the timber
within ten yards of where the two stood watching and, catching sight of
Connie as the boy shifted his twenty-two, turned and dashed along a thin
sand point and straight across the lake, passing in his blind haste so
close to Leloo that his thick brush almost touched the motionless
animal's nose. But the big ruffed wolf-dog never gave so much as a
passing glance.

"That's funny," whispered Connie "Why didn't he grab that fox?"

"Leloo, he ain' fool wit' no fox tonight," answered 'Merican Joe. "He
goin' far off an' run de ridges wit' de big people." And even as the
Indian spoke, Leloo resumed his long, silent lope.

"I sure would like to follow him tonight," breathed the boy, as he
watched the great dog until he disappeared upon the smooth, white
surface of the lake where the aurora borealis was casting its weird,
shifting lights upon the snow.

The weather had moderated to about the zero mark and by the middle of
the following afternoon 'Merican Joe set the last of the remaining
marten traps. Connie proved an apt pupil an