XIV.--THE PASSING OF BLACK MORAN 216

XV.--SETTING THE FOX TRAPS 238

XVI.--THE VOICE FROM THE HILL 254

XVII.--THE-LAKE-OF-THE-FOX-THAT-YELLS 269

XVIII.--THE MAN IN THE CAVE 290

ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

"FOR THERE, STANDING CLOSE BESIDE THE FIRE,
HIS HEAD AND HUGE SHOULDERS THRUST
INTO THE DOORWAY, HIS EYES GLEAMING
LIKE LIVE COALS, STOOD THE GREAT GREY
LEADER OF THE WOLF PACK" _Frontispiece_

"IN THE WHIRLING BLIZZARD, WITHOUT PROTECTION
OF TIMBER, ONE PLACE WAS AS GOOD
AS ANOTHER TO CAMP, AND WHILE THE INDIAN
BUSIED HIMSELF WITH THE DOGS, CONNIE
PROCEEDED TO DIG A TRENCH IN THE SNOW" 54

"THE THIRD DAY DAWNED COLD AND CLEAR,
AND DAYLIGHT FOUND THE OUTFIT ON THE
MOVE" 70

"IT WAS A TERRIBLE THING TO LOOK UPON TO
THOSE TWO WHO KNEW ITS SIGNIFICANCE--THAT
FLAG GLOWING LIKE A SPLOTCH OF
BLOOD THERE IN THE BRAZEN SKY" 80

"THE SNARE WAS SET ONLY A FOOT OR TWO
FROM THE STUFFED RABBIT SKIN AND
STICKS AND BRUSH SO ARRANGED THAT IN
ORDER TO REACH THE RABBIT THE LYNX
MUST LEAP STRAIGHT INTO THE SNARE" 130

"'MERICAN JOE CLIMBED THE TREE AND A FEW
MINUTES LATER CONNIE HEARD THE BLOWS
OF HIS BELT AX AS HE HACKED AT THE
LIMB THAT HELD THE CLOG" 156

"AS DARKNESS SETTLED OVER THE NORTH
COUNTRY, A LITTLE FIRE TWINKLED IN THE
BUSH, AND THE ODOUR OF SIZZLING BACON
AND FRYING LIVER PERMEATED THE COZY
CAMP" 182

"AS HE STEPPED THROUGH THE DOORWAY HE
WAS SEIZED VIOLENTLY FROM BEHIND" 218

Connie Morgan in the Fur Country

CHAPTER I

DOG, OR WOLF?

In the little cabin on Ten Bow Waseche Bill laid his week-old newspaper
aside, knocked the ashes from his pipe against the edge of the woodbox,
and listened to the roar of the wind. After a few moments he rose and
opened the door, only to slam it immediately as an icy blast, freighted
with a million whirling flakes of snow, swept the room. Resuming his
seat, he proceeded very deliberately to refill his pipe. This
accomplished to his satisfaction, he lighted it, crammed some wood into
the little air-tight stove, and tilted his chair back against the log
wall.

"Well, son, what is it?" he asked, after a few moments of silence
during which he had watched his young partner, Connie Morgan, draw rag
after rag through the barrel of his rifle.

"What's what?" aske