ice as many by
ravens, and occasional notes from chicadees, grouse, and owls. The
quadrupeds in general are more silent, but the red squirrel is ever
about and noisy, as well as busy.

Far-reaching sounds are these echoes of the woods--some of them very
far. Probably there were not five minutes of the day or night when some
weird, woodland chatter, scrape, crack, screech, or whistle did not
reach the keen ears of that ever-alert dog. That is, three hundred times
a day his outer ear submitted to his inner ear some report of things
a-doing, which same report was as often for many days disregarded as of
no interest or value. But this did not mean that he missed anything; the
steady tramp, tramp of their feet, while it dulled all sounds for the
hunter, seemed to have no effect on Skookum. Again the raspy squeal of
some far tree reached his inmost brain, and his hair rose as he stopped
and gave a low "woof."

The hunters held still; the wise ones always do, when a dog says "Stop!"
They waited. After a few minutes it came again--merely the long-drawn
creak of a tree bough, wind-rubbed on its neighbour.

And yet, "Woof, woof, woof," said Skookum, and ran ahead.

"Come back, you little fool!" cried Rolf.

But Skookum had a mind of his own. He trotted ahead, then stopped,
paused, and sniffed at something in the snow. The Indian picked it up.
It was the pocket jackscrew that every bear trapper carries to set the
powerful trap, and without which, indeed, one man cannot manage the
springs.

He held it up with "Ugh! Hoag in trouble now." Clearly the rival trapper
had lost this necessary tool.

But the finding was an accident. Skookum pushed on. They came along a
draw to a little hollow. The dog, far forward, began barking and angrily
baying at something. The men hurried to the scene to find on the snow,
fast held in one of those devilish engines called a bear trap--the body
of their enemy--Hoag, the trapper, held by a leg, and a hand in the gin
he himself had been setting.

A fierce light played on the Indian's face. Rolf was stricken with
horror. But even while they contemplated the body, the faint cry was
heard again coming from it.

"He's alive; hurry!" cried Rolf. The Indian did not hurry, but he came.
He had vowed vengeance at sight; why should he haste to help?

The implacable iron jaws had clutched the trapper by one knee and the
right hand. The first thing was to free him. How? No man has power
enough to force t