Part 15 (2/2)

”It's right over yonder,” continued Bandy-legs, anxious now to let Steve see that he was not as stupid as the other made out.

”What makes you so sure of that, Bandy-legs?” asked Max.

”Why, you see, I remember that tree with the big bunch of scarlet leaves.

I was lookin' at that while Uncle Jim set the trap. Ain't another clump like that anywhere around, I reckon,” was the smart reply Bandy-legs made.

The old trapper nodded his head.

”He's right,” he said. ”I took them same five leaves for my mark, too.

The trap was set just beyond. But, of course, that ain't sayin' we'll find it there now.”

”Not find the trap, do you say, Uncle Jim?” exclaimed Bandy-legs; ”why, whatever could happen to it?”

”If so be the bear came along and put his foot in, so them powerful jaws they closed like a vise, I reckon he'd walk off with it,” the trapper replied.

”That's so, you didn't fasten the chain to a stake or a tree,” said Owen.

”But I remember that you had a big clump of wood fixed to the end of the chain; what was that for?” Bandy-legs asked.

”I k-k-know; that's the c-c-clog,” Toby interrupted them to remark.

”Just what it was,” Trapper Jim admitted.

”A clog, was it?” Bandy-legs continued; ”but what's the use of it?”

”I'll explain,” the other remarked; ”when we set a bear trap we generally fasten the chain to a heavy piece of wood. When Bruin shuffles off he drags this after him. And in the course of time it weakens the old chap, for he's losing blood all the time.”

”That's kind of cruel; but go on, Uncle Jim,” Owen remarked.

”I guess you're about right, son,” said the other, ”and there's lots that's cruel about this trappin' business. But the women must have their furs, and ever since Adam's time I reckon the animals has had to supply covering for human beings. Eve thought it all over many a time, and I try to be as humane in my work as anybody could.”

”But there's another use for the clog, isn't there?” asked Max.

”To be sure there is,” Trapper Jim replied. ”You see, it drags on the ground and leaves such a plain trail that any tenderfoot could foller it.”

”Then you really have no use for the dogs,” spoke up Owen. ”I supposed they were going to lead us along the trail.”

”Oh, they'll do that, all right,” laughed the trapper; ”but to tell the truth I fetched 'em along for exercise and to keep them from getting uneasy more'n anything else.”

He stopped and appeared to be listening.

”Can you tell if he's there?” asked the wondering Bandy-legs.

”I can tell that he ain't there,” replied the trapper. ”It's all as still as anything. That means either our bear didn't come along his trail after we set the trap, or else he's come and carried it away with him.”

”She's gone!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Bandy-legs, as he craned his neck the better to see the spot where, as he remembered, the big trap had been set, artfully concealed, squarely in the track Bruin used in going to and fro from the marsh to his chosen den, where he expected to hibernate during the coming winter.

”You're correct, son,” Trapper Jim declared. ”The bear has been here and walked off with my prize trap. Here's where the clog tore up the ground, you see. I reckon now any one of you boys could follow them marks.”

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