The Trappers Son | Page 4

the boy. A hurried meal was eaten, and then they strapped on
their packs and several bundles of furs, which, with their traps, Moggs

intended to conceal till he could return for them. The remaining
articles, and a few of the least valuable of their furs, were then thrown
on the fire, and the wigwam being pulled down on the top of it, the
whole mass of combustible material soon burst up into a flame, leaving
in a short time no other trace of their abode on the spot than a pile of
blackened cinders.
They then made their way by a wide circuit into a neighbouring wood,
beyond which a rocky hill afforded, in the old trapper's opinion, a
secure place for concealing their goods. The old man stepped
cautiously along, avoiding even brushing against any of the branches
on either side, Laurence following in his footsteps.
A small cave or hollow, which he had before observed, was soon found.
In this the articles were deposited, and the mouth was closed up with
stones brought from the hill-side, they again being concealed by a pile
of broken branches and leaves, which, to the eye of a passer-by, might
appear to have been blown there by the wind.
"It is the best place we can find," exclaimed Moggs. "But if a strange
Injun was to come this way before the snow covers the ground, our
traps would soon be carried off. Most of the Crees, however, know that
they are mine, and would think it wiser to leave them alone. We will
hope for the best; and now, Laurence, let us go and see what the wolves
have been about." Saying this, he and the boy commenced their retreat
from the wood in the same cautious way by which they had approached
it.
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Note. The bark-stone of which the old trapper spoke is the Castoreum,
a substance secreted in two glandular sacs near the root of the beaver's
tail, which gives out an extremely powerful odour, and so strangely
attracts beavers that the animals, when they scent it at a distance, will
sniff about and squeal with eagerness as they make their way towards it.
The trapper, therefore, carries a supply in a bottle, and when he
arrives at a spot frequented by the animals, he sets his traps, baiting
them with some of the substance. This is done with a small twig of

wood, the end of which he chews, and, dipping it in the Castoreum,
places it just above water, close to the trap, which is beneath the
surface, and in such a position that the beaver must pass over it to get
at the bait.
CHAPTER TWO.
PURSUIT AND CAPTURE OF A WHITE WOLF--LAURENCE'S
DREAM--JOURNEY TO THE FORT OVER THE
SNOW--FRIENDLY RECEPTION AT THE FORT--LAURENCE
FALLS SICK.
The old trapper and his son crept cautiously among the rocks and
shrubs towards the spot where the traps had been set around their
slaughtered steeds. Moggs cocked his rifle as his keen eye fell on a
large white wolf, which, caught by the leg in one of the traps, was
making desperate efforts to free itself, and appeared every instant on
the point of succeeding. As they drew near, the ferocious animal, with
its mouth wide open, its teeth broken in its attempts to gnaw the iron
trap, and its head covered with blood, sprang forward to reach them,
but the trap held it fast.
"Keep behind me, Laurence," said Michael. "If the creature gets loose,
it will need a steady aim to bring it to the ground." Not for a moment
did the wolf turn round to fly, but again and again it sprang forward as
far as the chain would allow it.
Although old Michael knew nothing of the humanity which would
avoid allowing any of God's creatures to suffer unnecessary pain, he
was preparing to put an end to its agonies, when the creature, by a
frantic effort, freeing itself, sprang towards him. Laurence uttered a cry
of terror; for he expected the next moment to see its savage jaws fixed
in his father's throat; but the old man, standing calm and unmoved,
fired, and the animal fell dead at his feet.
"Did ye think, Laurence, that I could not manage a single wolf," he said,
half turning round with a reproachful look towards the boy, who had
not yet recovered from his alarm. "This is a prize worth having, though.

It has not often been my luck to kill a white wolf, and we may barter
this skin with the Crees for six of the best mustangs they have got.
While I skin the varmint, see what the other traps have been about."
Laurence went forward to examine them.
"Here is a foot in one of them,"