d on, leaving them untouched.

"It's a wonder you don't cut some steaks out of him," grinned the boy
as he looked at the fat carcass.

The Indian shook his head. "No. De _carcajo_, an' de mink, an' de
marten, an' de fisher, an' de otter ain' no good to eat. W'en you fin'
de Injun w'at eat 'em--look out! Dat one bad Injun, you bet!"

The work of "freshing up" the trap line in the wake of the _carcajo_
took almost as long as the laying of a new line. For the marauder had
done his work thoroughly and well. Hardly a trap was left unmolested. In
some places the snow showed where he had eaten a marten, but in most
instances the traps were simply destroyed apparently from sheer
wantonness. Three or four martens and one lynx were recovered where they
had been taken from the traps, carried off the line for some distance,
and buried in the snow.

By evening of the third day the task was finished and the two trappers
returned to their cabin.

The following day was spent in getting ready a trail outfit for the
caribou hunt. Both of the toboggans and dog teams were to be taken to
haul home the meat, and provisions for a week's trip were loaded. Only
a few caribou tracks had been seen on the trap line and 'Merican Joe
believed that more would be found to the south-eastward.

The first night on the trail they camped at the edge of a wide _brule_,
some twenty miles from the cabin. No caribou had been sighted during the
day, although tracks were much more numerous than they had been in the
vicinity of the cabin. 'Merican Joe had not brought his heavy rifle,
preferring instead the twenty-two, with which he had succeeded in
bringing down four ptarmigan. And as they sat snug and cozy in the
little tent and devoured their supper of stew and tea and pilot bread,
Connie bantered the Indian.

"You must think you're going to sneak up as close to the caribou as I
did to the _carcajo_, to get one with that gun."

'Merican Joe grinned. "You wait. You see I git mor' caribou wit' de
knife den you git wit' de big gun," he answered. "Me an' Leloo, we ain'
need no gun, do we, Leloo?" The great wolf-dog had been secured in the
tent to prevent his slipping off during the night, and at the mention of
his name he pricked up his ears and searched the faces of the two, as
if trying to figure out what all the talk was about. Far away in the
timber a wolf howled, and Leloo's eyes at once assumed an expression of
intense longing and he listened motionl