reams. In this
way a range of country is trapped by small detachments from a main body.
The outfit of a trapper is generally a rifle, a pound of powder,
and four pounds of lead, with a bullet mould, seven traps, an axe,
a hatchet, a knife and awl, a camp kettle, two blankets, and, where
supplies are plenty, seven pounds of flour. He has, generally, two
or three horses, to carry himself and his baggage and peltries. Two
trappers commonly go together, for the purposes of mutual assistance and
support; a larger party could not easily escape the eyes of the Indians.
It is a service of peril, and even more so at present than formerly, for
the Indians, since they have got into the habit of trafficking peltries
with the traders, have learned the value of the beaver, and look
upon the trappers as poachers, who are filching the riches from their
streams, and interfering with their market. They make no hesitation,
therefore, to murder the solitary trapper, and thus destroy a
competitor, while they possess themselves of his spoils. It is
with regret we add, too, that this hostility has in many cases been
instigated by traders, desirous of injuring their rivals, but who have
themselves often reaped the fruits of the mischief they have sown.

When two trappers undertake any considerable stream, their mode of
proceeding is, to hide their horses in some lonely glen, where they can
graze unobserved. They then build a small hut, dig out a canoe from a
cotton-wood tree, and in this poke along shore silently, in the evening,
and set their traps. These they revisit in the same silent way at
daybreak. When they take any beaver they bring it home, skin it, stretch
the skins on sticks to dry, and feast upon the flesh. The body, hung up
before the fire, turns by its own weight, and is roasted in a superior
style; the tail is the trapper's tidbit; it is cut off, put on the end
of a stick, and toasted, and is considered even a greater dainty than
the tongue or the marrow-bone of a buffalo.

With all their silence and caution, however, the poor trappers cannot
always escape their hawk-eyed enemies. Their trail has been discovered,
perhaps, and followed up for many a mile; or their smoke has been seen
curling up out of the secret glen, or has been scented by the savages,
whose sense of smell is almost as acute as that of sight. Sometimes they
are pounced upon when in the act of setting their traps; at other times,
they are roused from their sleep