morning
close to each other for the purpose of catching one of the formidable
coast wolves. These animals are so sagacious that they will scrape all
round a trap, let it be ever so well set, and after eating all the bait,
walk away unhurt. Indians consequently endeavour in every possible way
to catch them--and, among others, by setting _two_ traps close together;
so that, while the wolf scrapes at one, he may perhaps put his foot in
the other. It is in this way that Stemaw's traps are set, and he now
proceeds cautiously towards them, his gun in the hollow of his left arm.
Slowly he advances, peering through the bushes, but nothing is visible;
suddenly a branch crashes under his snow-shoe, and with a savage growl a
large wolf bounds towards him, landing almost at his feet. A single
glance, however, shows the Indian that both traps are on his legs, and
that the chains prevent his further advance. He places his gun against
a tree, draws his axe from the belt, and advances to kill the animal.
It is an undertaking, however, of some difficulty. The fierce brute,
which is larger than a Newfoundland dog, strains every nerve and sinew
to break its chains; while its eyes glisten in the uncertain light, and
foam curls from its blood-red mouth. Now it retreats as the Indian
advances, grinning horribly as it goes; and anon, as the chains check
its further retreat, it springs with fearful growl towards Stemaw, who
slightly wounds it with his axe, as he jumps backward just in time to
save himself from the infuriated animal, which catches in its fangs the
flap of his leggin, and tears it from his limb. Again Stemaw advances,
and the wolf retreats and again springs on him, but without success. At
last, as the wolf glances for a moment to one side--apparently to see if
there is no way of escape--quick as lightning the axe descends with
stunning violence on its head; another blow follows; and in five minutes
more Stemaw heaves the huge brute across his shoulders, and carries it
to his sledge.

This, however, has turned out a more exhausting business than Stemaw
expected; so he determines to encamp and rest for a few hours.
Selecting a large pine, whose spreading branches cover a patch of ground
free from underwood, he scrapes away the snow with his snow-shoe.
Silently but busily he labours for a quarter of an hour; and then,
having cleared a space seven or eight feet in diameter, and nearly four
feet deep, he cuts down a number o