Chapter Sixteen.

Chapter Sixteen.Still on the Way to the Beaver House—The Winter Camp in the Woods—Work for all—Feeding the Dogs—Our Boys guarding their own Trains—The Evening Meal—Bitter Cold—Milk in Lumps of Ice—Evening Prayers—The Wintry Camp Bed—Tucked in—Mysterious Sounds in the Forest—Smothering Sensations—Sam’s Nightmare—Breakfast—Tricky Dogs—Methods of Capture—Carioles and Sleds Reloaded—Trains Harnessed—Journey Resumed.A Winter camp in the North Land, and the temperature anywhere from thirty to sixty below zero! cold? Yes, we think so, and so did Frank, Alec, and Sam, as now they were passing through their first experience.As was stated in our last chapter, to the guide was always assigned the responsibility of selecting the camping place. The place here chosen by Memotas was considered a very good one. First, because there was abundance of dead, dry trees to serve as fuel. These had been killed a year or so before by a great forest fire that had run through that region of country. Second, there was a fine, dense balsam grove that had escaped the fire. In one part of it there was sufficient space for the camp. Then, in addition, by cutting down some of the smaller of these evergreen trees, their branches, finely broken up, would help to make the bed more comfortable.These are the essentials for a good camp: plenty of fuel and a sheltered spot. It is not always easy to find good camping places, so the guide is generally on the lookout for such localities. The result is his quick eye and good memory generally enable him to select all the camps that will be required on a return journey.When all the sleds were at the spot selected, the first thing done was to unharness the dogs, the faithful animals that had so well done their work. It seemed at first strange to the boys that the dogs could be treated so differently from what horses would have been when the day’s work was done. Indeed, everything was novel and startling.A days journey was ended, and they were about to take a night’s rest. But how different from travelling elsewhere. Here was no pleasant hotel or country tavern in which they could find lodgings. Here were no hospitable settlers to invite these strangers in to be their guests. They were preparing to stop out here in the woods all night, where there was neither hotel nor private dwelling place nearer than the home they had left now so many miles behind.No wonder Sam said, as he pulled a piece of ice as big as a pepper caster off the fur edge of his cap, that had there formed from his breath:“This beats all the lodging houses I ever heard of. Faith, and where is the landlord?”Alec’s practical reply was: “Well, there will be no bill to pay in the morning, anyway.”“Pay or no pay,” said Sam, “I would like to know where we are going to sleep in such a place as this?”“And where are we going to eat?” said Frank.“Wait a little while,” said Mr Ross, “and you will see a change that will astonish you. In the meantime each of you take an axe and see which of you can first cut down one of those trees. The exercise will do you good, and then remember,” he said with a laugh, “we have no deadheads on this trip.”Eagerly the boys rushed off to the sleds for their axes, and, putting on their snowshoes—for the snow was too deep for comfortable work without them—they were soon busily engaged at what was Gladstone’s favourite exercise. In the meantime the men were hard at work in preparing the camp. The snow was between three and four feet deep at the place selected. Using their snowshoes as shovels, they vigorously attacked the snow and threw it up on two sides and in the rear, making a snow wall about five feet high on three sides. The two opposite walls were about twelve feet apart, while the rear wall was perhaps ten feet back from the front space where the snow was cleared away. Here a great log heap was soon piled up. Dry splinters and chips were placed under, and an Indian with his flint and steel soon had it ignited. In a little while a glorious fire was blazing, lighting up the whole surroundings. The sun had gone down in splendour and the stars one by one had quickly come out, and now the whole heavens were aglow with them. On the space between the snowbanks a heavy layer of the green balsam boughs were evenly spread. On these the robes and blankets from each sled were arranged by busy hands, while others attended to various other duties. Some took large kettles and filled and refilled them up with snow, and kept them on the blazing fire until they were nearly full of water. Meat was cooked in some, while tea was made in others.The dog-drivers looked after their own dogs. From the sleds sufficient fish were taken to give to each dog two good whitefish. These were the daily rations of the dogs. The invariable rule is when travelling to give them but one meal a day, and that is given at the evening camp. So severe is the frost that these fish are frozen as hard as rocks, and so the drivers have to knock them off the sticks where in tens they were strung when caught. Then they are placed against a log that is rolled as near to the fire as it can be without burning. Against this log the fish are stood up next to the fire, and well thawed out, ere they are given to the dogs. Getting but one meal a day, they are naturally very eager for it, and so it is no wonder if some of them get up an occasional quarrel. Neither is it surprising if some of the stronger and more greedy strive to steal some portion of the supper from those not so active or quick in eating as themselves. One of the best times to study dog nature is when they are being fed.The boys, having each cut down a good, large tree, hugely enjoyed the feeding of the thawed-out fish to their own dogs. They were greatly amused at the efforts of the greedy ones to rob others. They had their whips in hand, and while they each took good care not to strike his own dogs, they rather enjoyed giving a crack to some cunning old rascals from some of the older trains, that having in all probability imposed on the youngsters all summer imagined they could with impunity keep it up here.“You would, would you, you thieving beast!” said Sam, as with hearty good will he brought his whip vigorously down on a powerful old dog that was making a cunning attempt to rob Spitfire of about half a fish.With a howl of rage the baffled fellow quickly sprang back into the gloom.Frank and Alec also had to be equally alert, to see that their dogs were not robbed by others.Mr Ross and the Indians were much amused and pleased to see the zeal and promptness with which the boys guarded the rights of their trains. They said that this was always the way with old dogs; that they would try most persistently for a few nights, in the beginning of winter, to rob the younger animals. A few good thrashings generally cured them of it; and sometimes, to the surprise of some of these old fellows, a youngster would develop such spirit and strength that he would turn on the would-be robber and give him a thrashing himself. Then there would be no trouble from that old fellow afterward.“I wonder where the dogs will sleep,” said Frank.“Wait a little while and you will see,” was the reply from Memotas, the guide.Sure enough, it was evident that they knew how to look out for themselves. The older ones, after being certain that all the fish had been distributed, would lift up their heads and sniff the breeze. No matter how slight it was they could easily detect it. Then they would travel about the camp in the snow until they found a sheltered spot, free from the wind. Here they would turn round and round until they had made a hole in the snow, away down near the ground. Then down in it they would curl themselves into as small a bundle as possible, with their tails over their noses, and there they would shiver or sleep through the night, as the cold would permit.The younger dogs seemed at first very uncertain as to their movements. Some of them followed the actions of the old dogs, but others, that had but little of the Eskimo blood in them, clung to the fire and the company of their masters. For these Mr Ross had a driver bring from one of the sleds two or three extra buffalo skins, which he thoughtfully had brought along. These were spread out near the fire, at a spot from which the snow was partially cleared.“Now tell your dogs to sleep there,” said Mr Ross.The boys quickly did so, and it was not long before those that had not gone off and dug nests in the snow for themselves, were closely cuddled together on the comfortable robes.In the meantime supper was being prepared by others. Meat and fish in generous quantities were cooked in the kettles. Bread and flat cakes, well supplied with grease or fat, were being thawed out, and a large quantity of good black tea was prepared.A large deerskin robe was carefully spread out before the fire, and over this a plain tablecloth was laid. Then the dishes, which were all indestructible, were placed in position, and the fat meat, strong tea, and hot rolls or buns were vigorously attacked by Mr Ross and the boys. While they were thus enjoying their meal the rest of the party, not far off, were similarly engaged.There were several things about this camping out in the woods that much surprised the boys. One was that the numerous sparks from the fire had such long fiery tails. Another was that the frost so quickly froze up the large pieces of meat, that often had to be thawed out two or three times at each meal. Another was that the ice often formed on their cups of tea, which had been taken boiling hot out of the kettle only a few minutes before. Then they were startled by sharp reports, like pistol or musket shots, that they kept hearing from places in the dark forest all around them, as though some lurking savages were taking snap shots at them. Two especially were so near, and so real, that Sam jumped up so suddenly that he spilled his tea over the tablecloth.“Faith, indeed,” he exclaimed, “I don’t want to be potted out here by any wild huntsmen, or Northern desperado, or red Indian.”The other boys were also much startled, but Mr Ross quieted their fears by telling them that these sounds were caused by the bursting in the trees, as the result of the freezing sap. Water in freezing always expands, and as there is sufficient sap in some trees, when it freezes, it bursts them. It must expand, and tremendous is its power, as even the burst rocks show.“It is a good thing that the ice remains on the top of the water,” said Frank. “As it freezes it expands, and thus, being lighter than the water, it comes to the top.”“What a mess we would be in,” said Sam, “if as the ice froze in chunks it sank to the bottom and kept at it all winter. Sure then, before spring, in such a land as this, the lakes and rivers would all be one solid mass of ice, and then what would become of the fish and us?”“A sensible remark, Sam, and characteristically put,” said Mr Ross. “If the ice were heavier than the water, and continued sinking, the colder regions would continually be encroaching on the warmer, to such a degree that in time the earth’s habitable portions would be very much diminished.”“Why is it,” said Alec, “that the milk which we are carrying in chunks, wrapped up in paper bags, when put into our cups of tea, does not melt as soon as do the lumps of white sugar of the same size?”“Closely examine a lump of frozen milk, and also a lump of sugar, and you will easily see the reason,” said Mr Ross. “When milk is firmly frozen it is very solid indeed—so solid that even hot water can only melt it on its surface. With a lump of sugar it is very different, as on account of its porousness the water at once forces its way through it, and thus is able to quickly dissolve it.”Thus in pleasant chat the hour passed away in spite of the bitter cold. They were all securely wrapped up, only portions of their faces being visible. They regretted that they could not handle their knives and forks with their heavy mittens on their hands, but were obliged to exchange them for well-lined gloves while they ate. After all had eaten their hearty supper, and were now gathered near the fire, one of the Indians, who, like the rest of his country men in this party, was an earnest, devout Christian, struck up in a strong, melodious voice the Evening Hymn, translated into his own language.Quickly the others joined in, while Mr Ross and the boys sang in unison the English words. After the hymn was sung, and ended up with Ken’s beautiful doxology, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow,” another Indian devoutly prayed in his own language, after which the service ended by all repeating together the Lord’s Prayer in English.The boys were very much pleased and delighted with this evening service of praise and prayer. Their weird surroundings added to its impressiveness. Then the fact that they were out in the cold forest, with no roof above them but the starry heavens and no walls around them but snowbanks, and the temperature so many degrees below zero, made the petition in the beautiful hymn sung very appropriate:Keep me, O keep me, King of kings,Beneath thine own almighty wings!After prayers the men made a thorough examination of the sleds and harness, to see that everything was in good condition, as they intended, if all was well, to start on the journey long hours before daylight.Then the beds were made. This operation very much interested the boys. The first thing the Indians did was to put everybody out of the camp; then they scattered fresh green balsam boughs, finely broken up, over the whole spot, from which the snow had nearly all been cleared. Then, on the side where Mr Ross and the boys were to sleep, the Indian bedmakers first spread out a deerskin wrapper, which during the day was used to hold all the various articles constituting a sleigh load, the whole then being securely lashed on by deerskin straps. It was made by sewing several large, well-dressed deerskins together. This large wrapper being made smooth and even, there was next spread out on it a couple of splendid buffalo skins. Then on the top of these the warm, thick blankets known as four-point Hudson Bay Company’s blankets were placed.While the bed was being thus prepared Mr Ross and the three boys were busily employed in preparing themselves to occupy it. It can be readily understood that there was no such thing as “undressing” for bed in such a cold bedroom.“Unloose your collars and shirt bands,” was all the directions given, as far as disrobing was concerned.The heavy travelling moccasins used during the day were exchanged either for long fur boots that came up to the hips, or for much larger and softer moccasins than those used during the day.It generally added to the comfort if a few of the tightest buttons on some of the inner garments were unloosed. Then the heavy blanket coats, which had been well dried of all the perspiration absorbed during the day, and well warmed, were put on. The heavy fur caps, with the big fur ears, were well drawn down, while, over all, the warm capotes, as hoods, were pulled up on the head and down in front to the nose. Great fur mittens made of beaver and otter fur were then drawn on the hands, and the night suit was complete.Mr Ross took the outside place. Then Sam, Alec, and Frank cuddled down in the order named. There they lay with their feet as near to the fire as it was safe, so as not to burn the blankets or robes. Then the Indians quickly threw some heavy blankets and fur robes over them and began at their feet to tuck them in. Indians are very clever and handy at all such work, their movements are all so gentle and skillful. They would make the best nurses in the world. No woman is quieter, quicker, or more prompt just to do the right thing in the right way than an Indian attendant with a little training. It seems to come to them more natural than to any other people. So here they so daintily, and yet so thoroughly, tucked in the “master,” as they called Mr Ross, and his three young guests.The boys enjoyed the operation hugely until they reached their heads. Then, as the Indians began to tuck in both blankets and fur robes under their heads, completely covering them up, it was a new experience, and one not very pleasant to contemplate. Mr Ross, who was an old traveller in this land, and one who had slept out hundreds of nights in this way, was not at all discommoded by the tucking in. But it was too much for the boys. They stood it as long as they could, and then almost simultaneously they threw up their arms and pulled down the heavy coverings from their faces.“O dear!” said Sam. “Let me freeze to death, but for dear old Ireland’s sake don’t smother me. If ye must send word to my mother that I have been frozen to death or eaten by bears she will believe you, and survive, but let it never be told that the Irish lad perished in this country under fur robes and blankets.”This pathetic lament of Sam’s brought forth roars of laughter from all who could understand it.“What have you to say, Alec?” said Mr Ross.“Well, the fact is,” he replied, “I was feeling about as Sam has expressed it, only I put it in a different way. My thoughts were: ‘It is queer that I should have escaped from the wolves to be suffocated in this land for the want of fresh air!’”“What say you, Frank. We may as well hear from all.”His answer was: “Well, as I lay there on that contracted place, and the half-smothery sensation began to make life miserable, I remembered some of the lessons we were taught at school about requiring so many cubic feet of fresh air, and began to wonder if such laws were obsolete out here.”With a little more freedom the boys were again tucked in, and it was not long before they were sound asleep.Memotas, the guide, rolled himself up in a woven rabbit skin robe, which was made out of a hundred and twenty skins, sixty being the warp and sixty the woof. His place was next to Frank. Then the other Indians, in their blankets, when they had finished their smoking, laid down wherever there was room. These hardy natives do not wear half of the clothing by day that white people do, neither do they require such warm beds at night.The only disturbance in the night was caused by Sam. He set up a great howling, which caused the guide to spring up in a hurry to see what was the matter. In the morning, when Sam was questioned as to his troubles in the night, he said he was dreaming that he was sliding down one of the Rocky Mountains with an elephant after him, and just as he reached the bottom the elephant tumbled on him, and there he lay yelling for help, until at length some one came and drove the elephant away.This was too much for even the sedate, clever Memotas, and as Mr Ross noticed his hearty laugh, as a thing so unusual, he said:“Come, Memotas, you must surely know something about this.”“Yes,” he answered, “I saw the elephant. It was Spitfire, his dog. I heard Alec moaning gently at first, and so I uncovered my head, for I wake very easily, and there was his dog. He was coming up from his feet, for the fire was burning low. He would take one or two steps and then stop and smell. I saw he was trying to find his master, so I did not disturb him. Soon he came up so far that he could lie down on Sam’s chest, on the outside on the robes. Then Sam, he began howling, and so he had what you white people call the nightmare, but this time it was the night-dog.” And Memotas softly laughed again, and others joined with him at Sam’s expense.At Mr Ross’s request a large quantity of fuel had been cut the previous evening, so that the fire was not allowed to go entirely out during the whole night. The trees most common for fuel in all the North country are the dry spruce and balsam. The guides, looking for the camp, love to find a group of them where they are from fifty to seventy-five feet high. All required are chopped down and then cut into lengths of from ten to fifteen feet. They are easily handed by the stalwart men, and make a bright fire. Generally the fire is allowed to go out after all have retired to rest. However, if the wolves are howling around, the fire is well looked after all night, as these vicious brutes are very much afraid of a bright flame.The stars were shining brightly, and there was no sign of light in the eastern sky, when all were up and busy making preparations for the day’s journey. What most perplexed the boys was that there was no preparation made for washing hands or faces. Towels and soap were not considered essentials on such a journey. Each had in his pocket a comb and a toothbrush, and with these and a cup of melted snow he had to be content.Frank, young Englishman that he was, dearly loved his tub, or bath, and so it seemed about the hardest deprivation thus far presented that he could neither wash his hands nor face.“Too cold for that,” said the guide. “A missionary once tried it, although we warned him against it. He was three months healing up his chapped and bleeding hands.” Then the guide added, as a little consolation, “If you like you can give yourself a dry rub with a piece of deerskin.”The breakfast was similar to the supper of the previous evening. Indeed, there was about the same bill of fare for every meal. It was strong, hearty food, and everyone was ready to do ample justice to it.After breakfast came prayers. A few verses from the good Book were read by Memotas, and then prayers were offered. Twice every day do these godly Indians thus worship God. They are the converts of self-sacrificing missionaries who, coming into these lands, amid the privations and hardships incident to such lonely, solitary places, here patiently toiled and laboured to win these natives from their degrading, superstitious, abominable old religion to a knowledge of the one living and true God. They have not toiled in vain, as the true, noble, consistent lives of hundreds of their converts now bear witness.The catching and harnessing of the dogs is a matter of pleasure or trouble, just as the dogs have been trained. Dogs kindly treated, and taught to obey, give no trouble, but with many, where their training was defective, there is constant annoyance and worry. The boys had treated their dogs so kindly that the cheery call was all that was needed. So with all the trains of Mr Ross’s except one. These were what might be called a scratch train. They had been bought singly from different parties. When in harness they were the equal of any, but the trouble was to get them into their harness. One was a white animal. At the first sound or movement in the camp he would sometimes quickly sneak away from where he had nested all night and then lie down quietly in the snow. So white and still was he that it was impossible for the keenest eye to detect him in the early morning starlight. No calling would bring him. He just lay there perfectly still, and buried enough to be even with the snow around him. When he had one of these skulking tricks on him the quickest way to find him was for several Indians to begin tramping in ever-widening circles around the camp until they ran on him. He would never run away, but his cunning trick was really more provoking than if he did. He was at length broken of it by being thoroughly blackened. Then, of course, he could be easily seen. This so grieved and humiliated him that he never tried the trick again, even after his beautiful white coat was cleaned for him, much to his great joy.Some dogs, as soon as they hear the bells jingling in the morning as their drivers come for them, will skulk off into dark places in the forests. There it is often difficult to find them. Then again some are so wild that a rope at least sixty feet in length is tied to their necks in the evening as they are unharnessed. By tramping around them in the morning the driver at length gets hold of the rope and draws in the culprit.A missionary who travelled some thousands of miles every winter with dogs, had about the most satisfactory way of summarily dealing with skulkers.He had in his own team a powerful St. Bernard, so trained that all he had to do was to show him the collar of the missing dog and then send him after the truant. Hamilton gave one smell at the collar and then was off. If that dog was anywhere within two miles he was driven into the camp in a hurry. If a stubborn, obstinate dog objected to march in before him, he gave him a shaking that never had to be repeated. Dogs have good memories for various things.The loading the sleds was not as easy a matter as some might imagine. This the boys found out when they tried to attend to the work themselves. As stated somewhere else, the sleds are only sixteen inches wide and ten feet long. They are made of two oak boards lying on the flat and well fastened together by crossbars. The front end is planed thin and steamed, and is then curled up more or less gracefully, according to the taste and skill of the maker. They have no runners on them. They just glide along on the smooth flat under surface that by wear becomes like polished glass. Along each side numerous loops are securely fastened. When the empty sled is to be loaded, the first thing is to spread out over it one of these large deerskin wrappers, the sled being under the exact middle. Then the various articles constituting the load, blankets, robes, provisions, kettles, guns, dog-fish, and everything else, are carefully piled up, the heaviest at the bottom, to make the upsets as few as possible. Then the great deerskin leather is carefully and tightly folded over from both sides, and the whole is securely lashed on by the strong deerskin ropes, which are passed from side to side through the strong loops on the sled. An experienced driver will so well tie on a great load of the most miscellaneous articles that it will not give an inch, or be in the slightest degree disarranged, no matter how many times it may upset, or roll over, or tumble down hillsides, either end first, or sideways. So the boys, after finding that their best handiwork in this line often came to grief in bad places, were glad to avail themselves of the assistance of a clever Indian, and there was no more trouble.One careful look all around to see that nothing has been forgotten, and the cheery “Marche!” is heard. Away rushes the guide, and another day’s journey is begun.

A Winter camp in the North Land, and the temperature anywhere from thirty to sixty below zero! cold? Yes, we think so, and so did Frank, Alec, and Sam, as now they were passing through their first experience.

As was stated in our last chapter, to the guide was always assigned the responsibility of selecting the camping place. The place here chosen by Memotas was considered a very good one. First, because there was abundance of dead, dry trees to serve as fuel. These had been killed a year or so before by a great forest fire that had run through that region of country. Second, there was a fine, dense balsam grove that had escaped the fire. In one part of it there was sufficient space for the camp. Then, in addition, by cutting down some of the smaller of these evergreen trees, their branches, finely broken up, would help to make the bed more comfortable.

These are the essentials for a good camp: plenty of fuel and a sheltered spot. It is not always easy to find good camping places, so the guide is generally on the lookout for such localities. The result is his quick eye and good memory generally enable him to select all the camps that will be required on a return journey.

When all the sleds were at the spot selected, the first thing done was to unharness the dogs, the faithful animals that had so well done their work. It seemed at first strange to the boys that the dogs could be treated so differently from what horses would have been when the day’s work was done. Indeed, everything was novel and startling.

A days journey was ended, and they were about to take a night’s rest. But how different from travelling elsewhere. Here was no pleasant hotel or country tavern in which they could find lodgings. Here were no hospitable settlers to invite these strangers in to be their guests. They were preparing to stop out here in the woods all night, where there was neither hotel nor private dwelling place nearer than the home they had left now so many miles behind.

No wonder Sam said, as he pulled a piece of ice as big as a pepper caster off the fur edge of his cap, that had there formed from his breath:

“This beats all the lodging houses I ever heard of. Faith, and where is the landlord?”

Alec’s practical reply was: “Well, there will be no bill to pay in the morning, anyway.”

“Pay or no pay,” said Sam, “I would like to know where we are going to sleep in such a place as this?”

“And where are we going to eat?” said Frank.

“Wait a little while,” said Mr Ross, “and you will see a change that will astonish you. In the meantime each of you take an axe and see which of you can first cut down one of those trees. The exercise will do you good, and then remember,” he said with a laugh, “we have no deadheads on this trip.”

Eagerly the boys rushed off to the sleds for their axes, and, putting on their snowshoes—for the snow was too deep for comfortable work without them—they were soon busily engaged at what was Gladstone’s favourite exercise. In the meantime the men were hard at work in preparing the camp. The snow was between three and four feet deep at the place selected. Using their snowshoes as shovels, they vigorously attacked the snow and threw it up on two sides and in the rear, making a snow wall about five feet high on three sides. The two opposite walls were about twelve feet apart, while the rear wall was perhaps ten feet back from the front space where the snow was cleared away. Here a great log heap was soon piled up. Dry splinters and chips were placed under, and an Indian with his flint and steel soon had it ignited. In a little while a glorious fire was blazing, lighting up the whole surroundings. The sun had gone down in splendour and the stars one by one had quickly come out, and now the whole heavens were aglow with them. On the space between the snowbanks a heavy layer of the green balsam boughs were evenly spread. On these the robes and blankets from each sled were arranged by busy hands, while others attended to various other duties. Some took large kettles and filled and refilled them up with snow, and kept them on the blazing fire until they were nearly full of water. Meat was cooked in some, while tea was made in others.

The dog-drivers looked after their own dogs. From the sleds sufficient fish were taken to give to each dog two good whitefish. These were the daily rations of the dogs. The invariable rule is when travelling to give them but one meal a day, and that is given at the evening camp. So severe is the frost that these fish are frozen as hard as rocks, and so the drivers have to knock them off the sticks where in tens they were strung when caught. Then they are placed against a log that is rolled as near to the fire as it can be without burning. Against this log the fish are stood up next to the fire, and well thawed out, ere they are given to the dogs. Getting but one meal a day, they are naturally very eager for it, and so it is no wonder if some of them get up an occasional quarrel. Neither is it surprising if some of the stronger and more greedy strive to steal some portion of the supper from those not so active or quick in eating as themselves. One of the best times to study dog nature is when they are being fed.

The boys, having each cut down a good, large tree, hugely enjoyed the feeding of the thawed-out fish to their own dogs. They were greatly amused at the efforts of the greedy ones to rob others. They had their whips in hand, and while they each took good care not to strike his own dogs, they rather enjoyed giving a crack to some cunning old rascals from some of the older trains, that having in all probability imposed on the youngsters all summer imagined they could with impunity keep it up here.

“You would, would you, you thieving beast!” said Sam, as with hearty good will he brought his whip vigorously down on a powerful old dog that was making a cunning attempt to rob Spitfire of about half a fish.

With a howl of rage the baffled fellow quickly sprang back into the gloom.

Frank and Alec also had to be equally alert, to see that their dogs were not robbed by others.

Mr Ross and the Indians were much amused and pleased to see the zeal and promptness with which the boys guarded the rights of their trains. They said that this was always the way with old dogs; that they would try most persistently for a few nights, in the beginning of winter, to rob the younger animals. A few good thrashings generally cured them of it; and sometimes, to the surprise of some of these old fellows, a youngster would develop such spirit and strength that he would turn on the would-be robber and give him a thrashing himself. Then there would be no trouble from that old fellow afterward.

“I wonder where the dogs will sleep,” said Frank.

“Wait a little while and you will see,” was the reply from Memotas, the guide.

Sure enough, it was evident that they knew how to look out for themselves. The older ones, after being certain that all the fish had been distributed, would lift up their heads and sniff the breeze. No matter how slight it was they could easily detect it. Then they would travel about the camp in the snow until they found a sheltered spot, free from the wind. Here they would turn round and round until they had made a hole in the snow, away down near the ground. Then down in it they would curl themselves into as small a bundle as possible, with their tails over their noses, and there they would shiver or sleep through the night, as the cold would permit.

The younger dogs seemed at first very uncertain as to their movements. Some of them followed the actions of the old dogs, but others, that had but little of the Eskimo blood in them, clung to the fire and the company of their masters. For these Mr Ross had a driver bring from one of the sleds two or three extra buffalo skins, which he thoughtfully had brought along. These were spread out near the fire, at a spot from which the snow was partially cleared.

“Now tell your dogs to sleep there,” said Mr Ross.

The boys quickly did so, and it was not long before those that had not gone off and dug nests in the snow for themselves, were closely cuddled together on the comfortable robes.

In the meantime supper was being prepared by others. Meat and fish in generous quantities were cooked in the kettles. Bread and flat cakes, well supplied with grease or fat, were being thawed out, and a large quantity of good black tea was prepared.

A large deerskin robe was carefully spread out before the fire, and over this a plain tablecloth was laid. Then the dishes, which were all indestructible, were placed in position, and the fat meat, strong tea, and hot rolls or buns were vigorously attacked by Mr Ross and the boys. While they were thus enjoying their meal the rest of the party, not far off, were similarly engaged.

There were several things about this camping out in the woods that much surprised the boys. One was that the numerous sparks from the fire had such long fiery tails. Another was that the frost so quickly froze up the large pieces of meat, that often had to be thawed out two or three times at each meal. Another was that the ice often formed on their cups of tea, which had been taken boiling hot out of the kettle only a few minutes before. Then they were startled by sharp reports, like pistol or musket shots, that they kept hearing from places in the dark forest all around them, as though some lurking savages were taking snap shots at them. Two especially were so near, and so real, that Sam jumped up so suddenly that he spilled his tea over the tablecloth.

“Faith, indeed,” he exclaimed, “I don’t want to be potted out here by any wild huntsmen, or Northern desperado, or red Indian.”

The other boys were also much startled, but Mr Ross quieted their fears by telling them that these sounds were caused by the bursting in the trees, as the result of the freezing sap. Water in freezing always expands, and as there is sufficient sap in some trees, when it freezes, it bursts them. It must expand, and tremendous is its power, as even the burst rocks show.

“It is a good thing that the ice remains on the top of the water,” said Frank. “As it freezes it expands, and thus, being lighter than the water, it comes to the top.”

“What a mess we would be in,” said Sam, “if as the ice froze in chunks it sank to the bottom and kept at it all winter. Sure then, before spring, in such a land as this, the lakes and rivers would all be one solid mass of ice, and then what would become of the fish and us?”

“A sensible remark, Sam, and characteristically put,” said Mr Ross. “If the ice were heavier than the water, and continued sinking, the colder regions would continually be encroaching on the warmer, to such a degree that in time the earth’s habitable portions would be very much diminished.”

“Why is it,” said Alec, “that the milk which we are carrying in chunks, wrapped up in paper bags, when put into our cups of tea, does not melt as soon as do the lumps of white sugar of the same size?”

“Closely examine a lump of frozen milk, and also a lump of sugar, and you will easily see the reason,” said Mr Ross. “When milk is firmly frozen it is very solid indeed—so solid that even hot water can only melt it on its surface. With a lump of sugar it is very different, as on account of its porousness the water at once forces its way through it, and thus is able to quickly dissolve it.”

Thus in pleasant chat the hour passed away in spite of the bitter cold. They were all securely wrapped up, only portions of their faces being visible. They regretted that they could not handle their knives and forks with their heavy mittens on their hands, but were obliged to exchange them for well-lined gloves while they ate. After all had eaten their hearty supper, and were now gathered near the fire, one of the Indians, who, like the rest of his country men in this party, was an earnest, devout Christian, struck up in a strong, melodious voice the Evening Hymn, translated into his own language.

Quickly the others joined in, while Mr Ross and the boys sang in unison the English words. After the hymn was sung, and ended up with Ken’s beautiful doxology, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow,” another Indian devoutly prayed in his own language, after which the service ended by all repeating together the Lord’s Prayer in English.

The boys were very much pleased and delighted with this evening service of praise and prayer. Their weird surroundings added to its impressiveness. Then the fact that they were out in the cold forest, with no roof above them but the starry heavens and no walls around them but snowbanks, and the temperature so many degrees below zero, made the petition in the beautiful hymn sung very appropriate:

Keep me, O keep me, King of kings,Beneath thine own almighty wings!

Keep me, O keep me, King of kings,Beneath thine own almighty wings!

After prayers the men made a thorough examination of the sleds and harness, to see that everything was in good condition, as they intended, if all was well, to start on the journey long hours before daylight.

Then the beds were made. This operation very much interested the boys. The first thing the Indians did was to put everybody out of the camp; then they scattered fresh green balsam boughs, finely broken up, over the whole spot, from which the snow had nearly all been cleared. Then, on the side where Mr Ross and the boys were to sleep, the Indian bedmakers first spread out a deerskin wrapper, which during the day was used to hold all the various articles constituting a sleigh load, the whole then being securely lashed on by deerskin straps. It was made by sewing several large, well-dressed deerskins together. This large wrapper being made smooth and even, there was next spread out on it a couple of splendid buffalo skins. Then on the top of these the warm, thick blankets known as four-point Hudson Bay Company’s blankets were placed.

While the bed was being thus prepared Mr Ross and the three boys were busily employed in preparing themselves to occupy it. It can be readily understood that there was no such thing as “undressing” for bed in such a cold bedroom.

“Unloose your collars and shirt bands,” was all the directions given, as far as disrobing was concerned.

The heavy travelling moccasins used during the day were exchanged either for long fur boots that came up to the hips, or for much larger and softer moccasins than those used during the day.

It generally added to the comfort if a few of the tightest buttons on some of the inner garments were unloosed. Then the heavy blanket coats, which had been well dried of all the perspiration absorbed during the day, and well warmed, were put on. The heavy fur caps, with the big fur ears, were well drawn down, while, over all, the warm capotes, as hoods, were pulled up on the head and down in front to the nose. Great fur mittens made of beaver and otter fur were then drawn on the hands, and the night suit was complete.

Mr Ross took the outside place. Then Sam, Alec, and Frank cuddled down in the order named. There they lay with their feet as near to the fire as it was safe, so as not to burn the blankets or robes. Then the Indians quickly threw some heavy blankets and fur robes over them and began at their feet to tuck them in. Indians are very clever and handy at all such work, their movements are all so gentle and skillful. They would make the best nurses in the world. No woman is quieter, quicker, or more prompt just to do the right thing in the right way than an Indian attendant with a little training. It seems to come to them more natural than to any other people. So here they so daintily, and yet so thoroughly, tucked in the “master,” as they called Mr Ross, and his three young guests.

The boys enjoyed the operation hugely until they reached their heads. Then, as the Indians began to tuck in both blankets and fur robes under their heads, completely covering them up, it was a new experience, and one not very pleasant to contemplate. Mr Ross, who was an old traveller in this land, and one who had slept out hundreds of nights in this way, was not at all discommoded by the tucking in. But it was too much for the boys. They stood it as long as they could, and then almost simultaneously they threw up their arms and pulled down the heavy coverings from their faces.

“O dear!” said Sam. “Let me freeze to death, but for dear old Ireland’s sake don’t smother me. If ye must send word to my mother that I have been frozen to death or eaten by bears she will believe you, and survive, but let it never be told that the Irish lad perished in this country under fur robes and blankets.”

This pathetic lament of Sam’s brought forth roars of laughter from all who could understand it.

“What have you to say, Alec?” said Mr Ross.

“Well, the fact is,” he replied, “I was feeling about as Sam has expressed it, only I put it in a different way. My thoughts were: ‘It is queer that I should have escaped from the wolves to be suffocated in this land for the want of fresh air!’”

“What say you, Frank. We may as well hear from all.”

His answer was: “Well, as I lay there on that contracted place, and the half-smothery sensation began to make life miserable, I remembered some of the lessons we were taught at school about requiring so many cubic feet of fresh air, and began to wonder if such laws were obsolete out here.”

With a little more freedom the boys were again tucked in, and it was not long before they were sound asleep.

Memotas, the guide, rolled himself up in a woven rabbit skin robe, which was made out of a hundred and twenty skins, sixty being the warp and sixty the woof. His place was next to Frank. Then the other Indians, in their blankets, when they had finished their smoking, laid down wherever there was room. These hardy natives do not wear half of the clothing by day that white people do, neither do they require such warm beds at night.

The only disturbance in the night was caused by Sam. He set up a great howling, which caused the guide to spring up in a hurry to see what was the matter. In the morning, when Sam was questioned as to his troubles in the night, he said he was dreaming that he was sliding down one of the Rocky Mountains with an elephant after him, and just as he reached the bottom the elephant tumbled on him, and there he lay yelling for help, until at length some one came and drove the elephant away.

This was too much for even the sedate, clever Memotas, and as Mr Ross noticed his hearty laugh, as a thing so unusual, he said:

“Come, Memotas, you must surely know something about this.”

“Yes,” he answered, “I saw the elephant. It was Spitfire, his dog. I heard Alec moaning gently at first, and so I uncovered my head, for I wake very easily, and there was his dog. He was coming up from his feet, for the fire was burning low. He would take one or two steps and then stop and smell. I saw he was trying to find his master, so I did not disturb him. Soon he came up so far that he could lie down on Sam’s chest, on the outside on the robes. Then Sam, he began howling, and so he had what you white people call the nightmare, but this time it was the night-dog.” And Memotas softly laughed again, and others joined with him at Sam’s expense.

At Mr Ross’s request a large quantity of fuel had been cut the previous evening, so that the fire was not allowed to go entirely out during the whole night. The trees most common for fuel in all the North country are the dry spruce and balsam. The guides, looking for the camp, love to find a group of them where they are from fifty to seventy-five feet high. All required are chopped down and then cut into lengths of from ten to fifteen feet. They are easily handed by the stalwart men, and make a bright fire. Generally the fire is allowed to go out after all have retired to rest. However, if the wolves are howling around, the fire is well looked after all night, as these vicious brutes are very much afraid of a bright flame.

The stars were shining brightly, and there was no sign of light in the eastern sky, when all were up and busy making preparations for the day’s journey. What most perplexed the boys was that there was no preparation made for washing hands or faces. Towels and soap were not considered essentials on such a journey. Each had in his pocket a comb and a toothbrush, and with these and a cup of melted snow he had to be content.

Frank, young Englishman that he was, dearly loved his tub, or bath, and so it seemed about the hardest deprivation thus far presented that he could neither wash his hands nor face.

“Too cold for that,” said the guide. “A missionary once tried it, although we warned him against it. He was three months healing up his chapped and bleeding hands.” Then the guide added, as a little consolation, “If you like you can give yourself a dry rub with a piece of deerskin.”

The breakfast was similar to the supper of the previous evening. Indeed, there was about the same bill of fare for every meal. It was strong, hearty food, and everyone was ready to do ample justice to it.

After breakfast came prayers. A few verses from the good Book were read by Memotas, and then prayers were offered. Twice every day do these godly Indians thus worship God. They are the converts of self-sacrificing missionaries who, coming into these lands, amid the privations and hardships incident to such lonely, solitary places, here patiently toiled and laboured to win these natives from their degrading, superstitious, abominable old religion to a knowledge of the one living and true God. They have not toiled in vain, as the true, noble, consistent lives of hundreds of their converts now bear witness.

The catching and harnessing of the dogs is a matter of pleasure or trouble, just as the dogs have been trained. Dogs kindly treated, and taught to obey, give no trouble, but with many, where their training was defective, there is constant annoyance and worry. The boys had treated their dogs so kindly that the cheery call was all that was needed. So with all the trains of Mr Ross’s except one. These were what might be called a scratch train. They had been bought singly from different parties. When in harness they were the equal of any, but the trouble was to get them into their harness. One was a white animal. At the first sound or movement in the camp he would sometimes quickly sneak away from where he had nested all night and then lie down quietly in the snow. So white and still was he that it was impossible for the keenest eye to detect him in the early morning starlight. No calling would bring him. He just lay there perfectly still, and buried enough to be even with the snow around him. When he had one of these skulking tricks on him the quickest way to find him was for several Indians to begin tramping in ever-widening circles around the camp until they ran on him. He would never run away, but his cunning trick was really more provoking than if he did. He was at length broken of it by being thoroughly blackened. Then, of course, he could be easily seen. This so grieved and humiliated him that he never tried the trick again, even after his beautiful white coat was cleaned for him, much to his great joy.

Some dogs, as soon as they hear the bells jingling in the morning as their drivers come for them, will skulk off into dark places in the forests. There it is often difficult to find them. Then again some are so wild that a rope at least sixty feet in length is tied to their necks in the evening as they are unharnessed. By tramping around them in the morning the driver at length gets hold of the rope and draws in the culprit.

A missionary who travelled some thousands of miles every winter with dogs, had about the most satisfactory way of summarily dealing with skulkers.

He had in his own team a powerful St. Bernard, so trained that all he had to do was to show him the collar of the missing dog and then send him after the truant. Hamilton gave one smell at the collar and then was off. If that dog was anywhere within two miles he was driven into the camp in a hurry. If a stubborn, obstinate dog objected to march in before him, he gave him a shaking that never had to be repeated. Dogs have good memories for various things.

The loading the sleds was not as easy a matter as some might imagine. This the boys found out when they tried to attend to the work themselves. As stated somewhere else, the sleds are only sixteen inches wide and ten feet long. They are made of two oak boards lying on the flat and well fastened together by crossbars. The front end is planed thin and steamed, and is then curled up more or less gracefully, according to the taste and skill of the maker. They have no runners on them. They just glide along on the smooth flat under surface that by wear becomes like polished glass. Along each side numerous loops are securely fastened. When the empty sled is to be loaded, the first thing is to spread out over it one of these large deerskin wrappers, the sled being under the exact middle. Then the various articles constituting the load, blankets, robes, provisions, kettles, guns, dog-fish, and everything else, are carefully piled up, the heaviest at the bottom, to make the upsets as few as possible. Then the great deerskin leather is carefully and tightly folded over from both sides, and the whole is securely lashed on by the strong deerskin ropes, which are passed from side to side through the strong loops on the sled. An experienced driver will so well tie on a great load of the most miscellaneous articles that it will not give an inch, or be in the slightest degree disarranged, no matter how many times it may upset, or roll over, or tumble down hillsides, either end first, or sideways. So the boys, after finding that their best handiwork in this line often came to grief in bad places, were glad to avail themselves of the assistance of a clever Indian, and there was no more trouble.

One careful look all around to see that nothing has been forgotten, and the cheery “Marche!” is heard. Away rushes the guide, and another day’s journey is begun.

Chapter Seventeen.Still on the Way to the Beavers—The Blizzard in the Camp—Sleeping and Eating under Difficulties—Vicious Little Beaver Dogs—The Beaver House—Preparations for their Capture—The Beavers’ Kitchens—Discovered by the Little Dogs—How Destroyed—The Method of Capture—Man’s Experience versus Animal Instinct—The Rich Harvest of Beavers.Still on the way for the beavers!We are surely a long time getting there, but every mile of the journey is interesting and full of novelty. We left the blazing camp fire at a little this side of the Wolf’s Cove. The stars were shining brightly in the heavens. Even the morning star, now so brilliant, had not as the harbinger of the great sun yet made its appearance.As a help to brighten up the trail for a short distance it is generally customary to pile on the fire, before starting, all of the wood remaining. This makes things look cheerful, and assists in the last investigation of the camp that nothing, not even a half-buried axe, is left behind.At first the progress is not very rapid. It is fearfully cold. The dogs seem a little stiff, and some of them act as though they would much prefer to remain near that cozy camp fire. But there is no time for regrets or delays.“Marche! Marche!” is the cry, and as the whips, wielded by dexterous hands, give out their emphatic cracks the coldness and stiffness soon wear off, and after the first mile or two the progress is very much improved as dogs and men warm up to their work.We need not dwell much longer on the journey. Enough has been given to enable every bright boy and clever girl who reads these pages to see how it is that travellers get along in a land where only the canoe in summer and the dog-train in winter afford them any possibilities for locomotion. Here are no locomotives, but lots of locomotion, and the most of it is done on foot, as often it is quite enough for the dogs to drag the heavy loads through the deep snow and in the long, tangled forests, without carrying an additional man or boy. So it is walk, or run, or more generally trot, as the case may be, as the dogs are able to get on or the trail will permit.Another long day, with its glorious sunrise, and then, after the weary hours of travel and the several stops to eat, the sunset in cold splendour comes, and with it Memotas calls for the halt. Then another night in the woods, very similar to the one fully described, is passed, with the exception that during the hours of troubled slumber the fierce winds arose, and the light, dry snow in the three piled-up snowbanks of the camp was rudely seized hold of by rough old Boreas and driven hither and thither in his own rough way. Most of the snow seemed to find its way back to the place from which the snowshoes some hours before had thrown it, and now well it is for our young lads that they are so completely covered up in their bed, for the snow is now upon them to the depth of a couple of feet. Fortunately, the snow is like an extra blanket which Dame Nature has thrown upon them to add to their comfort. When the storm was beginning, and they began to move as some erratic snowflakes were so twisted around that they reached their faces, the guide, who well knew what a wretched night of discomfort would be theirs if they now, in the blinding storm, uncovered their heads, shouted to them with a good deal of sternness, “Do not uncover your heads; lie still and sleep.” This, after a little effort, they were able to do. The fun, or rather discomfort, came in the morning, when the cry to get up was heard. Suddenly they sprang up, but in spite of all their quickness some of the snow went into their faces, and down their necks, and—well, it was far from agreeable.The outlook was dismal enough. The storm still continued raging. There was, in addition to the wind playing all sorts of pranks with what had already fallen, now a heavy snowfall besides. It seemed to penetrate everywhere. It forced its way into their eyes and noses and pockets, and tried to get under their caps and capotes. The fire was completely extinguished. In fact, where the bright, blazing fire was so cheerily throwing out its heat and warmth when they were tucked in by the faithful Indian, now a great snowdrift occupied the very spot.The experienced travellers in these lands, even under such conditions and worse, do not lose heart. Quickly they went to work. Strong axes soon felled more dry trees, and cut them into logs. Others, with snowshoes as shovels, soon cleared away the snow drift from the fireplace. A skillful firemaker soon had the dry kindling and chips under the logs in ablaze, and now the wind only fanned the flames to a greater brightness.As the downfall of snow continues very heavy some tough poles are cut down and one end of them so fastened in the snow that they are firmly held. They are so slanted toward the fire, with the wind in the rear, that when roofed over with the big deerskin and a couple dropped each side it is astonishing how comfortably sheltered a few persons thus can be. The active Indians shook the dry snow off from some robes, and placing them as a floor Mr Ross and the boys were soon under a storm-tight roof and gazing into the great fire just before them, that gave them both warmth and cheer. A hot breakfast was enjoyed as soon as the Indians could cook it.Some of the Indians improvised a similar lean-to for themselves, while others stood out in the gale around the fire perfectly unconcerned. To them the heavy storm was as little heeded as the songs of the robins in springtime, or the summer zephyrs among the trees.Owing to the delay of a half day on account of this disagreeable storm, the party did not reach the vicinity of the beaver house until toward evening. So it was resolved to find a good place for the camp, as the Indian hunters who owned this house said they would not take the beavers until the third day in the afternoon, and then they would take all they decided to in a short time. This was, of course, all a mystery to the boys, and so they were obliged to have patience, and witness the contest between animal instinct and cunning, and man’s reason, observation, and ingenuity.The spot selected for the camp was not far from the beaver house, which stood in its symmetrical proportions well covered with snow, and looked like a great haystack in some farmer’s yard at home.The boys had observed on the sled of these Indians who owned the beaver house a little wicker-like basket well-lined with rabbit skin. One day, when peering into it, two fierce little dogs snapped at them most viciously, and seemed very much annoyed at their intrusion. In the evening at the camp fire they asked Mr Ross about them, and were surprised to hear that they are what are called beaver dogs. He said they were valuable, for with their help the Indians would get the beaver in a very novel which they would see commenced to-morrow. Mr Ross cautioned the boys not to put their naked hands near the vicious brutes, as they were very fierce, and especially disliked white people.The camp was a well-sheltered, comfortable one for such a place, and as the storm had completely passed away, the evening, although very cold, was a fairly enjoyable one. The routine at this camp was similar to the first. The only excitement the boys had, was when one of the Indians came in from exploring the beaver house and dam, and told them that a large wolverine was seen walking on the dam the heavers had made, and then round and round the beaver house.“Beaver plenty safe there,” he added, in his broken English. “Wall four feet thick. Frost make all like stone. Only one door, and that under the thick ice and water. Wolverine no catch beaver in that house.” Then he added: “Beaver there for Injun to take. White boys see how him do it quick, two days more. Plenty work first, then plenty beaver.”This picturesque talk to the boys was very interesting, and so they were all eager to see, as Sam said, “the curtain go up and the show begin.”As nothing could be done the next day before daylight, there was no particular hurry in getting up. After giving orders to the men who were left in charge at the camp to see that the dogs there remained, and that everything was kept in the best of order, and dinner ready at a certain hour, Mr Ross and the boys, like the rest, strapped on their snowshoes and away they tramped. The Indian hunters had the little dogs with them. These they carefully carried and kept covered up when not at work. The boys were first taken to the top of a hill, from which the whole pond, dam, and beaver house could be distinctly seen. Then Mr Ross explained that, while the beaver generally dwelt in their house during the winter, they had in addition what the Indians called kitchens. These were cunningly hid along the shore at the edge of the ice. All were now out of sight and under the snow. They were ingeniously made, in such a way that the beaver by frequently visiting them and breaking away the ice, as it formed on the inside, could thus keep them open. They were really breathing places for the beaver in case they should be attacked in their houses and driven out.Inexperienced hunters often try to get the beaver by chopping, digging, or even blasting with gunpowder a hole into the beaver house. If the pond is well supplied with kitchens, or breathing places, the beavers need only laugh at such hunters, for just as soon as they become alarmed by these outside noises they plunge into the water, which is always open in the warm house, and dive out under the outer edge and away they go under the thick ice to the kitchens, which are so cunningly hid away. There they quietly remain and breathe the air which is necessary as it comes through the light snow and through the rushes and reeds from which they keep the ice. When the noise is over and the beavers think that their enemies have gone, they go back to the house. If the invaders have much destroyed the house, the beavers desert it entirely and live in these kitchens until the spring freshets come and melt and carry away the ice.Sometimes a large colony of beavers with a big house will have twenty kitchens. If one is discovered they swim to another. We must remember that the beaver, although an amphibious animal and able to remain quite a time under water, requires fresh air, and so must go where he can get it, or he will die. The length of time that a beaver can live under the ice without air is a matter of dispute, even among the experienced hunters themselves. They all, however, agree in saying that, when beavers find all of their retreats cut off, as a last resort they come up to the ice and breathe out the air in their lungs against the ice, and then, when it is good, they breathe it in again. But the trouble is that they lose some air bubbles each time, and so they soon become exhausted and die.In the meantime, while these interesting explanations were being made to the boys the Indians had commenced their operations. They had cut down a couple of small green birch trees which were eight or ten inches in diameter. Then they cut off lengths of about eight feet each. On these they vigorously set to work with their axes, and so cut or trimmed these down, except a foot or fifteen inches at one end, so that when finished they were like gigantic pounders.With these made and thrown over their shoulders they took their way to the pond, only carrying in addition the two little dogs. When the pond was reached the little dogs were set down in the snow near the edge. At first they only moaned and shivered and begged to be again taken up by their masters. These, however, had no intention of doing anything of the kind.“Umisk! Umisk!” they excitedly cried, and soon this Indian word for “beaver” began to have its effect upon the dogs. Pricking up their ears, they began running about, until at length, with a couple of yelps of triumph, they were off. They hurried away as fast as their little legs could carry them through the light snow to a spot near the shore. Here they began making the snow fly as rapidly as was possible with their fore paws. One of the Indians assisted them by utilising his snowshoe as a shovel, and, sure enough, there at the very edge of the ice they found a mass of rushes and grass most cunningly arranged, with a little space in the centre where it was open water. This was a beaver’s kitchen that had been so cunningly discovered by the keen scent of the little dogs.As soon as it had been discovered the Indians quickly picked up the little dogs and stowed the shivering creatures in warm bags on their backs. Now the boys were able to see the use to which these great big pounders, hewn out of the young birch trees, were put. With both of them the men began vigorously pounding down the coarse grass and rushes, and left the place so exposed that in a few hours it would be so solidly frozen over that not a particle of air could enter.Leaving this kitchen now completely destroyed, they began skirting the shore for a little distance up farther from the beaver house. Once more they lifted the little dogs out of the warm bags and placed the shivering animals on the ice. Then again the cry rang out, “Umisk! Umisk!” The result was as before. Like as an electric shock these words acted upon these queer little dogs, and at once they seemed to forget all about the cold and most vigorously set to work, and in a very few minutes had discovered another kitchen. This one was destroyed in the same manner as was the first.Thus on and on they cautiously prospected and worked. At one place where they had gone but a short distance from the last kitchen destroyed, suddenly one of the little dogs obstinately turned back and rushed to a spot where even the most experienced Indian had not the slightest suspicion of anything being, until the keen instinct of the dog discovered it. Following up the little fellow to the spot where he was now barking most furiously, the men had not dug long in the snow before they found the most cunningly hid away kitchen on the whole pond. So large was it, and so well arranged as the breathing place of a large number of beavers, that the hunters declared that if they had let that single one escape them they would have completely failed when they made their attack upon the beaver house. This sharpness on the part of the little dog made the men the more careful, and so it was noon ere the end of the pond was reached and about half of this work was completed.Dinner was ready for all when they returned to the camp. The boys were hungry and the cold had helped to sharpen their appetites.“How is it?” said Sam, “that I find myself picking out the fattest part of the meat and hardly caring to eat anything else?”“That is,” said Mr Ross, “because you are in first-class health. And Nature, true to her instincts, is giving you and the rest of us the craving for just the kind of food that is now best adapted to our requirements. Fat food has more heat in it than any other kind, and so that which you here crave is that which is really the most suitable. Living as we now are, day and night, out in the open air in this sharp cold weather, we require much more heat to keep us up to our normal temperature than if we were inside of the warm walls of Sagasta-weekee.”When dinner was ended the party returned to the pond, and the work of discovering and destroying the remaining beavers’ kitchens went on all the afternoon. The following night the two Indian hunters, upon whom so much depended, did not take any sleep, but with their heavy pounders kept on the alert against the efforts of the clever beavers. When they returned to the camp for a hasty breakfast in the morning they reported that they had had a very busy night, as the beavers seemed to have become possessed with the idea that an attack was soon to be made upon them in their house. The result was they were very active all night, and persistent in their efforts to break through the new ice as it formed, and thus, if possible, keep some of their kitchens available in case of need. Some were so bold that if the Indians had been so inclined they could easily have speared them, as they so bravely charged the new ice with their heads and broke it up. They said that at that largest kitchen, which they so nearly overlooked, the beavers made their most persistent attacks. At times as many as a half dozen would together strike bravely at the ice. However, they thought that they had now succeeded in getting every place frozen air-tight and they could safely begin the work of attack upon the house, so that they would be ready by to-morrow to begin the capture of the beaver.Axes and ice chisels were the powerful tools required to-day. Beginning at the shore on each side of the beaver house, the Indians cut two channels in the ice about a foot wide, and so converging that they met about six feet in front of the house. Then the ice was cut out about ten feet further into the pond directly in front of the house. The capital letter Y will give a correct idea of the cuttings thus made. The upper two lines are the ones from the shore on each side of the beaver house; the lower and wider part of the letter represents the channel cut in front. This was perhaps ten feet long and about two feet in width.The next step was by careful measurement with a long pole to find the depth of the water in these channels thus free of ice. When this was done everybody able to handle an axe was soon busily at work cutting down small trees into poles not less than four inches in diameter, and so long that when well driven in the mud the tops would still be considerably above the ice. None but straight, strong ones were of any use. Then, beginning close to the shore, the Indians, using, of course, the shorter poles where the water was shallow, began driving them in the mud through the channels cut in the ice. They worked very carefully, for the beaver when aroused is a strong as well as a cunning animal, and the hunter who would not fail must be prepared for every emergency. The poles were driven in the two upper sides until the approaching columns of them came within about two feet of each other at the front. From this point the Indians turned and began driving the poles in the mud in two lines, parallel to each other, running out into the pond. This left a channel, allowing for the diameter of the poles, of, say, from twelve to fifteen inches wide and ten feet long.Carefully examining and testing over and over again the grip of each pole which had been driven into the mud at the bottom of the pond, the men were at length well satisfied with their work and said: “Very good. Injun have much fine beaver this time. We will have beavers’ tails for supper to-morrow night.”So anxious were those Indian hunters that even during the second night they slept but little, and several times slipped away from the camp and walked around from kitchen to kitchen to see that in every place the ice was firm and unbroken. In the morning, when all were at breakfast, they reported that as the cold had become so intense they felt confident of success and anticipated the capture of a large number of beaver. For days they had been working up to this consummation. Experienced men grimly and remorselessly had pitted their long years of experience against the instincts and cunning of a colony of beavers, and, as it always is, in the end, man must conquer.“What are you going to do next?” is the question of the boys. All the answer, however, they receive, is to be patient and they will soon see for themselves. Their interest, however, is increased when to all is uttered the command, “Get all the guns ready, and load them heavily with powder.” With several extra charges they are all soon on their way to the beaver house. When there they find that the water in the channel cut in the front yesterday has ice on it fully six inches in thickness. This will give some idea of the severity of the cold, but nobody seems to notice it in the excitement of the hour. Very quickly is this ice broken up and thrown out on the frozen surface of the pond.One of the Indians has in his hand a long, stiff rod about the size of a bamboo fish pole. This will play an important part in the capture of the beaver, as we shall see later on. The next part of the program is of great interest to the boys. Everybody now goes to the land side of the beaver house, and at once there begins the greatest din and racket it is possible for the whole party to make. The guns are all fired off, and loaded and fired again and again. The men with their great pounders most vigorously beat against the solid walls on the land side, as though they would burst in upon the now terrified inhabitants. This attack and noise continued until it is supposed that all of the frightened animals have fled away from the house, which they must have imagined was about being knocked to pieces about their ears. The result is the house is deserted, and the now frightened beaver are away out somewhere in the pond, swimming under the ice.As soon as the Indians feel confident that all have forsaken the house they hurry out on the pond in the front. Here in the open water, in the space between the poles which were so solidly driven, the long slender pole is pushed down firmly through the water into the mud at the bottom of the pond. One of the Indians now quickly pulls off his shirt sleeve, as well as that of his coat, and throws himself down on the ice close to the open channel which has been described. His comrade quickly throws a warm blanket over him to at least partly protect him from the intense cold. Then, arming himself with a heavy axe, this second Indian quietly steps back a pace or two.“Hush! Everybody keep still or sit down on the ice, and do not utter a word. Do not move your feet on the ice; do not even breathe heavily, for beavers have wonderful powers of hearing.”Promptly had everyone obeyed Mr Ross, who had uttered these commands. He had placed the boys where they could easily see the wonderful way in which these experienced hunters would quickly gather up their beaver harvest after all their effort and toil.But where are the beavers? They are in all probability out under the ice, swimming about from one kitchen to another, vainly trying to find one in which they can get their lungs full of fresh air. If the men and those saucy little dogs have been successful in closing up all of these resorts, vain are the beavers’ efforts. For a long time these wonderful creatures are able to keep alive under water, but there is a limit to this ability, and then it becomes a matter of life or death to them. Thus it now was with these beavers. They had been frightened from their home, and had hoped to be able to obtain fresh air at places carefully prepared for just such emergencies. But, alas! these have failed them, and now there is nothing else to do but to make the effort to get back to their home as soon as possible. This, they now find, is no easy matter. A strange barricade of stakes is in the way, and there is only one opening, and even that is a very narrow one. But they are now in such sad straits for fresh air that they must try that one place and get to their home or perish.Meanwhile the boys, sitting so still and quiet on the ice, began to think that it was getting very monotonous, especially Sam, who found it to be extremely difficult to have to hold his tongue so long. But look! The top of that long slender twig is being roughly shaken, and quick as a flash down goes the naked arm of the alert Indian, and as rapidly does it come up again, and in the strong grasp of his hand is a fine, large beaver. With a sudden swinging movement he sends it sprawling out on the ice, where his comrade is waiting to dispatch it with his axe.Now the boys see the important part played by that little stick. See, it moves again, and once more the long, naked arm is thrust down and another great beaver is thrown out on the ice. This one, like his predecessor, is quickly dispatched. For a time all is still again. The beavers crowding behind these two that have been so readily captured have been frightened by their sudden movements, so unnatural, and so they hesitated to follow. But others are closely following behind, and all are suffering acutely now for the want of fresh air, and thus it is only a minute or two before the moving stick tells the story that another beaver is making the attempt to reach a spot where he can get some fresh air. Vain indeed are his efforts, for no sooner does he touch that fatal stick than down goes that strong, muscular hand and arm and he is thrown out on the ice, to be killed in the same manner as were his fellows.See what a splendid black beaver that is! But, O dear! he has lost him. Yes, he has. That is too bad, and he brought him up far enough for his head to be out of the water, and so he once more filled up his lungs, and as he tumbled in he fell beyond the stick. So that one is lost for this year.But there is no time for mourning over the loss of one, even if he was a beauty. They crowd up quickly now, and the Indians are busy. They keep cool and alert, for the harvest is increasing.The condition of the beavers is now so desperate that recklessly they are crowding on, and although the man is pulling them out as rapidly as possible it is evident that numbers, especially of the smaller ones, are slipping by, and thus are lost for that year. In order to secure a greater number the second Indian gives his axe to Mr Ross and goes to the help of his comrade.No need of quiet now. The remaining beavers must get by that stick or perish, and as they make the attempt, while some are captured, many others escape. Thus it goes on until the last one has either been secured by the Indians or has eluded them. Let us hope that he escaped to live another year.“Count the spoils, boys,” shouts Mr Ross. No second command is needed. They collect them together and find that there are forty-seven of them, and not a small one among them. In addition, there were plenty that escaped to restock the house, and in two years it will in all probability be as rich a beaver harvest field as it has been to-day.

Still on the way for the beavers!

We are surely a long time getting there, but every mile of the journey is interesting and full of novelty. We left the blazing camp fire at a little this side of the Wolf’s Cove. The stars were shining brightly in the heavens. Even the morning star, now so brilliant, had not as the harbinger of the great sun yet made its appearance.

As a help to brighten up the trail for a short distance it is generally customary to pile on the fire, before starting, all of the wood remaining. This makes things look cheerful, and assists in the last investigation of the camp that nothing, not even a half-buried axe, is left behind.

At first the progress is not very rapid. It is fearfully cold. The dogs seem a little stiff, and some of them act as though they would much prefer to remain near that cozy camp fire. But there is no time for regrets or delays.

“Marche! Marche!” is the cry, and as the whips, wielded by dexterous hands, give out their emphatic cracks the coldness and stiffness soon wear off, and after the first mile or two the progress is very much improved as dogs and men warm up to their work.

We need not dwell much longer on the journey. Enough has been given to enable every bright boy and clever girl who reads these pages to see how it is that travellers get along in a land where only the canoe in summer and the dog-train in winter afford them any possibilities for locomotion. Here are no locomotives, but lots of locomotion, and the most of it is done on foot, as often it is quite enough for the dogs to drag the heavy loads through the deep snow and in the long, tangled forests, without carrying an additional man or boy. So it is walk, or run, or more generally trot, as the case may be, as the dogs are able to get on or the trail will permit.

Another long day, with its glorious sunrise, and then, after the weary hours of travel and the several stops to eat, the sunset in cold splendour comes, and with it Memotas calls for the halt. Then another night in the woods, very similar to the one fully described, is passed, with the exception that during the hours of troubled slumber the fierce winds arose, and the light, dry snow in the three piled-up snowbanks of the camp was rudely seized hold of by rough old Boreas and driven hither and thither in his own rough way. Most of the snow seemed to find its way back to the place from which the snowshoes some hours before had thrown it, and now well it is for our young lads that they are so completely covered up in their bed, for the snow is now upon them to the depth of a couple of feet. Fortunately, the snow is like an extra blanket which Dame Nature has thrown upon them to add to their comfort. When the storm was beginning, and they began to move as some erratic snowflakes were so twisted around that they reached their faces, the guide, who well knew what a wretched night of discomfort would be theirs if they now, in the blinding storm, uncovered their heads, shouted to them with a good deal of sternness, “Do not uncover your heads; lie still and sleep.” This, after a little effort, they were able to do. The fun, or rather discomfort, came in the morning, when the cry to get up was heard. Suddenly they sprang up, but in spite of all their quickness some of the snow went into their faces, and down their necks, and—well, it was far from agreeable.

The outlook was dismal enough. The storm still continued raging. There was, in addition to the wind playing all sorts of pranks with what had already fallen, now a heavy snowfall besides. It seemed to penetrate everywhere. It forced its way into their eyes and noses and pockets, and tried to get under their caps and capotes. The fire was completely extinguished. In fact, where the bright, blazing fire was so cheerily throwing out its heat and warmth when they were tucked in by the faithful Indian, now a great snowdrift occupied the very spot.

The experienced travellers in these lands, even under such conditions and worse, do not lose heart. Quickly they went to work. Strong axes soon felled more dry trees, and cut them into logs. Others, with snowshoes as shovels, soon cleared away the snow drift from the fireplace. A skillful firemaker soon had the dry kindling and chips under the logs in ablaze, and now the wind only fanned the flames to a greater brightness.

As the downfall of snow continues very heavy some tough poles are cut down and one end of them so fastened in the snow that they are firmly held. They are so slanted toward the fire, with the wind in the rear, that when roofed over with the big deerskin and a couple dropped each side it is astonishing how comfortably sheltered a few persons thus can be. The active Indians shook the dry snow off from some robes, and placing them as a floor Mr Ross and the boys were soon under a storm-tight roof and gazing into the great fire just before them, that gave them both warmth and cheer. A hot breakfast was enjoyed as soon as the Indians could cook it.

Some of the Indians improvised a similar lean-to for themselves, while others stood out in the gale around the fire perfectly unconcerned. To them the heavy storm was as little heeded as the songs of the robins in springtime, or the summer zephyrs among the trees.

Owing to the delay of a half day on account of this disagreeable storm, the party did not reach the vicinity of the beaver house until toward evening. So it was resolved to find a good place for the camp, as the Indian hunters who owned this house said they would not take the beavers until the third day in the afternoon, and then they would take all they decided to in a short time. This was, of course, all a mystery to the boys, and so they were obliged to have patience, and witness the contest between animal instinct and cunning, and man’s reason, observation, and ingenuity.

The spot selected for the camp was not far from the beaver house, which stood in its symmetrical proportions well covered with snow, and looked like a great haystack in some farmer’s yard at home.

The boys had observed on the sled of these Indians who owned the beaver house a little wicker-like basket well-lined with rabbit skin. One day, when peering into it, two fierce little dogs snapped at them most viciously, and seemed very much annoyed at their intrusion. In the evening at the camp fire they asked Mr Ross about them, and were surprised to hear that they are what are called beaver dogs. He said they were valuable, for with their help the Indians would get the beaver in a very novel which they would see commenced to-morrow. Mr Ross cautioned the boys not to put their naked hands near the vicious brutes, as they were very fierce, and especially disliked white people.

The camp was a well-sheltered, comfortable one for such a place, and as the storm had completely passed away, the evening, although very cold, was a fairly enjoyable one. The routine at this camp was similar to the first. The only excitement the boys had, was when one of the Indians came in from exploring the beaver house and dam, and told them that a large wolverine was seen walking on the dam the heavers had made, and then round and round the beaver house.

“Beaver plenty safe there,” he added, in his broken English. “Wall four feet thick. Frost make all like stone. Only one door, and that under the thick ice and water. Wolverine no catch beaver in that house.” Then he added: “Beaver there for Injun to take. White boys see how him do it quick, two days more. Plenty work first, then plenty beaver.”

This picturesque talk to the boys was very interesting, and so they were all eager to see, as Sam said, “the curtain go up and the show begin.”

As nothing could be done the next day before daylight, there was no particular hurry in getting up. After giving orders to the men who were left in charge at the camp to see that the dogs there remained, and that everything was kept in the best of order, and dinner ready at a certain hour, Mr Ross and the boys, like the rest, strapped on their snowshoes and away they tramped. The Indian hunters had the little dogs with them. These they carefully carried and kept covered up when not at work. The boys were first taken to the top of a hill, from which the whole pond, dam, and beaver house could be distinctly seen. Then Mr Ross explained that, while the beaver generally dwelt in their house during the winter, they had in addition what the Indians called kitchens. These were cunningly hid along the shore at the edge of the ice. All were now out of sight and under the snow. They were ingeniously made, in such a way that the beaver by frequently visiting them and breaking away the ice, as it formed on the inside, could thus keep them open. They were really breathing places for the beaver in case they should be attacked in their houses and driven out.

Inexperienced hunters often try to get the beaver by chopping, digging, or even blasting with gunpowder a hole into the beaver house. If the pond is well supplied with kitchens, or breathing places, the beavers need only laugh at such hunters, for just as soon as they become alarmed by these outside noises they plunge into the water, which is always open in the warm house, and dive out under the outer edge and away they go under the thick ice to the kitchens, which are so cunningly hid away. There they quietly remain and breathe the air which is necessary as it comes through the light snow and through the rushes and reeds from which they keep the ice. When the noise is over and the beavers think that their enemies have gone, they go back to the house. If the invaders have much destroyed the house, the beavers desert it entirely and live in these kitchens until the spring freshets come and melt and carry away the ice.

Sometimes a large colony of beavers with a big house will have twenty kitchens. If one is discovered they swim to another. We must remember that the beaver, although an amphibious animal and able to remain quite a time under water, requires fresh air, and so must go where he can get it, or he will die. The length of time that a beaver can live under the ice without air is a matter of dispute, even among the experienced hunters themselves. They all, however, agree in saying that, when beavers find all of their retreats cut off, as a last resort they come up to the ice and breathe out the air in their lungs against the ice, and then, when it is good, they breathe it in again. But the trouble is that they lose some air bubbles each time, and so they soon become exhausted and die.

In the meantime, while these interesting explanations were being made to the boys the Indians had commenced their operations. They had cut down a couple of small green birch trees which were eight or ten inches in diameter. Then they cut off lengths of about eight feet each. On these they vigorously set to work with their axes, and so cut or trimmed these down, except a foot or fifteen inches at one end, so that when finished they were like gigantic pounders.

With these made and thrown over their shoulders they took their way to the pond, only carrying in addition the two little dogs. When the pond was reached the little dogs were set down in the snow near the edge. At first they only moaned and shivered and begged to be again taken up by their masters. These, however, had no intention of doing anything of the kind.

“Umisk! Umisk!” they excitedly cried, and soon this Indian word for “beaver” began to have its effect upon the dogs. Pricking up their ears, they began running about, until at length, with a couple of yelps of triumph, they were off. They hurried away as fast as their little legs could carry them through the light snow to a spot near the shore. Here they began making the snow fly as rapidly as was possible with their fore paws. One of the Indians assisted them by utilising his snowshoe as a shovel, and, sure enough, there at the very edge of the ice they found a mass of rushes and grass most cunningly arranged, with a little space in the centre where it was open water. This was a beaver’s kitchen that had been so cunningly discovered by the keen scent of the little dogs.

As soon as it had been discovered the Indians quickly picked up the little dogs and stowed the shivering creatures in warm bags on their backs. Now the boys were able to see the use to which these great big pounders, hewn out of the young birch trees, were put. With both of them the men began vigorously pounding down the coarse grass and rushes, and left the place so exposed that in a few hours it would be so solidly frozen over that not a particle of air could enter.

Leaving this kitchen now completely destroyed, they began skirting the shore for a little distance up farther from the beaver house. Once more they lifted the little dogs out of the warm bags and placed the shivering animals on the ice. Then again the cry rang out, “Umisk! Umisk!” The result was as before. Like as an electric shock these words acted upon these queer little dogs, and at once they seemed to forget all about the cold and most vigorously set to work, and in a very few minutes had discovered another kitchen. This one was destroyed in the same manner as was the first.

Thus on and on they cautiously prospected and worked. At one place where they had gone but a short distance from the last kitchen destroyed, suddenly one of the little dogs obstinately turned back and rushed to a spot where even the most experienced Indian had not the slightest suspicion of anything being, until the keen instinct of the dog discovered it. Following up the little fellow to the spot where he was now barking most furiously, the men had not dug long in the snow before they found the most cunningly hid away kitchen on the whole pond. So large was it, and so well arranged as the breathing place of a large number of beavers, that the hunters declared that if they had let that single one escape them they would have completely failed when they made their attack upon the beaver house. This sharpness on the part of the little dog made the men the more careful, and so it was noon ere the end of the pond was reached and about half of this work was completed.

Dinner was ready for all when they returned to the camp. The boys were hungry and the cold had helped to sharpen their appetites.

“How is it?” said Sam, “that I find myself picking out the fattest part of the meat and hardly caring to eat anything else?”

“That is,” said Mr Ross, “because you are in first-class health. And Nature, true to her instincts, is giving you and the rest of us the craving for just the kind of food that is now best adapted to our requirements. Fat food has more heat in it than any other kind, and so that which you here crave is that which is really the most suitable. Living as we now are, day and night, out in the open air in this sharp cold weather, we require much more heat to keep us up to our normal temperature than if we were inside of the warm walls of Sagasta-weekee.”

When dinner was ended the party returned to the pond, and the work of discovering and destroying the remaining beavers’ kitchens went on all the afternoon. The following night the two Indian hunters, upon whom so much depended, did not take any sleep, but with their heavy pounders kept on the alert against the efforts of the clever beavers. When they returned to the camp for a hasty breakfast in the morning they reported that they had had a very busy night, as the beavers seemed to have become possessed with the idea that an attack was soon to be made upon them in their house. The result was they were very active all night, and persistent in their efforts to break through the new ice as it formed, and thus, if possible, keep some of their kitchens available in case of need. Some were so bold that if the Indians had been so inclined they could easily have speared them, as they so bravely charged the new ice with their heads and broke it up. They said that at that largest kitchen, which they so nearly overlooked, the beavers made their most persistent attacks. At times as many as a half dozen would together strike bravely at the ice. However, they thought that they had now succeeded in getting every place frozen air-tight and they could safely begin the work of attack upon the house, so that they would be ready by to-morrow to begin the capture of the beaver.

Axes and ice chisels were the powerful tools required to-day. Beginning at the shore on each side of the beaver house, the Indians cut two channels in the ice about a foot wide, and so converging that they met about six feet in front of the house. Then the ice was cut out about ten feet further into the pond directly in front of the house. The capital letter Y will give a correct idea of the cuttings thus made. The upper two lines are the ones from the shore on each side of the beaver house; the lower and wider part of the letter represents the channel cut in front. This was perhaps ten feet long and about two feet in width.

The next step was by careful measurement with a long pole to find the depth of the water in these channels thus free of ice. When this was done everybody able to handle an axe was soon busily at work cutting down small trees into poles not less than four inches in diameter, and so long that when well driven in the mud the tops would still be considerably above the ice. None but straight, strong ones were of any use. Then, beginning close to the shore, the Indians, using, of course, the shorter poles where the water was shallow, began driving them in the mud through the channels cut in the ice. They worked very carefully, for the beaver when aroused is a strong as well as a cunning animal, and the hunter who would not fail must be prepared for every emergency. The poles were driven in the two upper sides until the approaching columns of them came within about two feet of each other at the front. From this point the Indians turned and began driving the poles in the mud in two lines, parallel to each other, running out into the pond. This left a channel, allowing for the diameter of the poles, of, say, from twelve to fifteen inches wide and ten feet long.

Carefully examining and testing over and over again the grip of each pole which had been driven into the mud at the bottom of the pond, the men were at length well satisfied with their work and said: “Very good. Injun have much fine beaver this time. We will have beavers’ tails for supper to-morrow night.”

So anxious were those Indian hunters that even during the second night they slept but little, and several times slipped away from the camp and walked around from kitchen to kitchen to see that in every place the ice was firm and unbroken. In the morning, when all were at breakfast, they reported that as the cold had become so intense they felt confident of success and anticipated the capture of a large number of beaver. For days they had been working up to this consummation. Experienced men grimly and remorselessly had pitted their long years of experience against the instincts and cunning of a colony of beavers, and, as it always is, in the end, man must conquer.

“What are you going to do next?” is the question of the boys. All the answer, however, they receive, is to be patient and they will soon see for themselves. Their interest, however, is increased when to all is uttered the command, “Get all the guns ready, and load them heavily with powder.” With several extra charges they are all soon on their way to the beaver house. When there they find that the water in the channel cut in the front yesterday has ice on it fully six inches in thickness. This will give some idea of the severity of the cold, but nobody seems to notice it in the excitement of the hour. Very quickly is this ice broken up and thrown out on the frozen surface of the pond.

One of the Indians has in his hand a long, stiff rod about the size of a bamboo fish pole. This will play an important part in the capture of the beaver, as we shall see later on. The next part of the program is of great interest to the boys. Everybody now goes to the land side of the beaver house, and at once there begins the greatest din and racket it is possible for the whole party to make. The guns are all fired off, and loaded and fired again and again. The men with their great pounders most vigorously beat against the solid walls on the land side, as though they would burst in upon the now terrified inhabitants. This attack and noise continued until it is supposed that all of the frightened animals have fled away from the house, which they must have imagined was about being knocked to pieces about their ears. The result is the house is deserted, and the now frightened beaver are away out somewhere in the pond, swimming under the ice.

As soon as the Indians feel confident that all have forsaken the house they hurry out on the pond in the front. Here in the open water, in the space between the poles which were so solidly driven, the long slender pole is pushed down firmly through the water into the mud at the bottom of the pond. One of the Indians now quickly pulls off his shirt sleeve, as well as that of his coat, and throws himself down on the ice close to the open channel which has been described. His comrade quickly throws a warm blanket over him to at least partly protect him from the intense cold. Then, arming himself with a heavy axe, this second Indian quietly steps back a pace or two.

“Hush! Everybody keep still or sit down on the ice, and do not utter a word. Do not move your feet on the ice; do not even breathe heavily, for beavers have wonderful powers of hearing.”

Promptly had everyone obeyed Mr Ross, who had uttered these commands. He had placed the boys where they could easily see the wonderful way in which these experienced hunters would quickly gather up their beaver harvest after all their effort and toil.

But where are the beavers? They are in all probability out under the ice, swimming about from one kitchen to another, vainly trying to find one in which they can get their lungs full of fresh air. If the men and those saucy little dogs have been successful in closing up all of these resorts, vain are the beavers’ efforts. For a long time these wonderful creatures are able to keep alive under water, but there is a limit to this ability, and then it becomes a matter of life or death to them. Thus it now was with these beavers. They had been frightened from their home, and had hoped to be able to obtain fresh air at places carefully prepared for just such emergencies. But, alas! these have failed them, and now there is nothing else to do but to make the effort to get back to their home as soon as possible. This, they now find, is no easy matter. A strange barricade of stakes is in the way, and there is only one opening, and even that is a very narrow one. But they are now in such sad straits for fresh air that they must try that one place and get to their home or perish.

Meanwhile the boys, sitting so still and quiet on the ice, began to think that it was getting very monotonous, especially Sam, who found it to be extremely difficult to have to hold his tongue so long. But look! The top of that long slender twig is being roughly shaken, and quick as a flash down goes the naked arm of the alert Indian, and as rapidly does it come up again, and in the strong grasp of his hand is a fine, large beaver. With a sudden swinging movement he sends it sprawling out on the ice, where his comrade is waiting to dispatch it with his axe.

Now the boys see the important part played by that little stick. See, it moves again, and once more the long, naked arm is thrust down and another great beaver is thrown out on the ice. This one, like his predecessor, is quickly dispatched. For a time all is still again. The beavers crowding behind these two that have been so readily captured have been frightened by their sudden movements, so unnatural, and so they hesitated to follow. But others are closely following behind, and all are suffering acutely now for the want of fresh air, and thus it is only a minute or two before the moving stick tells the story that another beaver is making the attempt to reach a spot where he can get some fresh air. Vain indeed are his efforts, for no sooner does he touch that fatal stick than down goes that strong, muscular hand and arm and he is thrown out on the ice, to be killed in the same manner as were his fellows.

See what a splendid black beaver that is! But, O dear! he has lost him. Yes, he has. That is too bad, and he brought him up far enough for his head to be out of the water, and so he once more filled up his lungs, and as he tumbled in he fell beyond the stick. So that one is lost for this year.

But there is no time for mourning over the loss of one, even if he was a beauty. They crowd up quickly now, and the Indians are busy. They keep cool and alert, for the harvest is increasing.

The condition of the beavers is now so desperate that recklessly they are crowding on, and although the man is pulling them out as rapidly as possible it is evident that numbers, especially of the smaller ones, are slipping by, and thus are lost for that year. In order to secure a greater number the second Indian gives his axe to Mr Ross and goes to the help of his comrade.

No need of quiet now. The remaining beavers must get by that stick or perish, and as they make the attempt, while some are captured, many others escape. Thus it goes on until the last one has either been secured by the Indians or has eluded them. Let us hope that he escaped to live another year.

“Count the spoils, boys,” shouts Mr Ross. No second command is needed. They collect them together and find that there are forty-seven of them, and not a small one among them. In addition, there were plenty that escaped to restock the house, and in two years it will in all probability be as rich a beaver harvest field as it has been to-day.

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