ting man-smell to the
rabbit will even remain to leeward of it while he handles it, lest
man-scent should blow against the rabbit and adhere to the fur. If
that happened, the fox would be so suspicious that he would not go near
the rabbit.

But to illustrate how stupid the white fox of the Arctic coast is in
comparison with the coloured fox of the forest, the following story is
worth repeating. It happened near Fort Churchill on the northwest
coast of Hudson Bay. The trader at the post had given a certain Eskimo
a spoon-bait, or spoon-hook, the first he had ever seen; and as he
thought it a very wonderful thing, he always carried it about with him.
The next fall, while going along the coast, he saw a pack of white
foxes approaching, and having with him neither a trap nor a gun, he
thought of his spoon-hook. Tearing a rag off his shirt, he rubbed on
it some porpoise oil which he was carrying in a bladder, fastened the
rag about the hook, laid it on a log directly in the path of the
approaching foxes, and, going to the end of the line, lay down out of
sight to watch what would happen. When the foxes drew near, one of
them seized the bait, and the Eskimo, jerking the line, caught the fox
by the tongue. In that way the native caught six foxes before he
returned to the post; but then, as everyone in the Far North knows,
white foxes are proverbially stupid creatures.

The more expert the hunter, the more pride he takes in his work.
Before leaving a trap, he will examine its surroundings carefully and
decide from which angle he wishes the animal to approach; then by
arranging cut brush in a natural way in the snow he will block all
other approaches, and thus compel the unsuspecting fox to carry out his
wishes.

When a fox springs a trap without being caught, he rarely pauses to eat
the bait, but leaps away in fright. The hunter, however, knowing that
the fox will soon return, not only leaves the trap as the fox left it,
but sets another trap, or even two more, without bait, close to the
first, where he thinks the fox will tread when he makes his second
visit. If that fails, he will trace the fox's trail to where it passes
between thick brush and there he will set a trap in the usual way, but
without bait, right in the fox's track. Then he will cut brush and
shore up the natural bushes in such a way that, no other opening being
left, the fox must return by his own track, and run the chance of being
caught. Should