as'."

"For breakfast!" cried Connie. "You don't mean you're going to eat lynx
meat! Why, a lynx is a cat!"

"Mebbe-so cat--mebbe-so ain't. Dat don't mak' no differ' w'at you call
um. You wait, I fry um an' I bet you t'ink dat de bes' meat you ever
eat."

"I don't believe I could tackle a cat," grinned the boy.

"Dat better you forgit dat cat business. If it good, it good. If it ain'
good, it ain' good. W'at you care you call um cat--dog--pig? Plenty
t'ing good to eat w'en you fin' dat out. De owl, she good meat. De
musquash, w'at you call de mushrat--dat don' hurt de meat 'cause you
call um rat! De skunk mak' de fine meat, an' de porkypine, too."

"I guess Injuns ain't so particular what they eat," laughed Connie.

"De Injun know w'at de good meat is," retorted 'Merican Joe. "By golly,
I seen de white mans eat de rotten cheese, an' she stink so bad dat mak'
de Injun sick."

"I guess you win!" laughed the boy. "I've seen 'em too--but you bet I
never ate any of it!"

"You try de _loup cervier_ steak in de mornin'," the Indian urged
earnestly. "If you don' lak him I bet you my dogs to wan chaw tobac'!"

"I don't chew tobacco," Connie grinned, "but seeing you've gone to all
the trouble of slicing the meat up, I'll take a chance."

"How you lak him, eh?" 'Merican Joe grinned across the little table at
Connie next morning, as the boy gingerly mouthed a small piece of lynx
steak. Connie swallowed the morsel, and, without answering, took another
bite. There was nothing gingerly about the action this time, and the
Indian noted that the boy's jaws worked with evident relish.

"Well," answered Connie, when the second morsel had gone the way of the
first, "if the rest of the things you were telling me about are as good
as this, all I've got to say is: Bring 'em along!"

Daylight found them on the trap line with sleeping bags and provisions
in their packs, for it would require at least two days to "fresh up" the
line.

At noon they camped for lunch almost at the end of the line of steel
traps. So far they had been unusually lucky. Only two traps had been
sprung empty, and eight martens and a mink were in the pack sacks. Only
two of the martens, and the mink were alive when found and Connie
quickly learned the Indian method of killing a trapped animal--a method
that is far more humane and very much easier when it comes to skinning
the animal than the white man's method of beating him on the head with
the ax handle. W