oards up chips and sticks. But mainly he
depends on exercise and animal food for warmth. At night he sleeps in a
fur bag. In the morning that bag is frozen stiff as boards by the
moisture of his own breath. Need one ask why the rarest furs, which can
only be produced by the coldest of climates, are so costly?

Having found the tracks of the fox, the hunter sets out his traps baited
with fish or rabbit or a bird-head. If the snow be powdery enough, and
the trapper keen in wild lore, he may even know what sort of a fox to
expect. In the depths of midwinter, the white Arctic fox has a wool fur
to his feet like a brahma chicken. This leaves its mark in the fluffy
snow. A ravenous fellow he always is, this white fox of the hungry
North, bold from ignorance of man, but hard to distinguish from the snow
because of his spotless coat. The blue fox being slightly smaller than
the full-grown Arctic, lopes along with shorter leaps by which the
trapper may know the quarry; but the blue fox is just as hard to
distinguish from the snow as his white brother. The gray frost haze is
almost the same shade as his steel-blue coat; and when spring comes,
blue fox is the same colour as the tawny moss growth. Colour is blue
fox's defence. Consequently blue foxes show more signs of age than
white--stubby ears frozen low, battle-worn teeth, dulled claws.

The chances are that the trapper will see the black fox himself almost
as soon as he sees his tracks; for the sheeny coat that is black fox's
beauty betrays him above the snow. Bushy tail standing straight out,
every black hair bristling erect with life, the white tail-tip flaunting
a defiance, head up, ears alert, fore feet cleaving the air with the
swift ease of some airy bird--on he comes, jump--jump--jump--more of a
leap than a lope, galloping like a wolf, altogether different from the
skulking run of little foxes, openly exulting in his beauty and his
strength and his speed! There is no mistaking black fox. If the trapper
does not see the black fox scurrying over the snow, the tell-tale
characteristics of the footprints are the length and strength of the
leaps. Across these leaps the hunter leaves his traps. Does he hope for
a silver fox? Does every prospector expect to find gold nuggets? In the
heyday of fur company prosperity, not half a dozen true silver foxes
would be sent out in a year. To-day I doubt if more than one good silver
fox is sent out in half a dozen years. But good white f