ld not
be baulked this time. Hope, which is verily a beauteous hydra in the
young breast, revived again in strength. If he only had somewhat to eat,
he wouldn't mind the long tramp before him. Beech-mast rather increased
than appeased his hunger; and nothing came in view that could be shot.

He had not walked far, when a sharp, wild cry, as of some small animal
in pain, struck his ear. Pushing away the brush at the left, he saw the
cause--a little dark furry creature hanging to a sapling, as it seemed;
and at his appearance the struggles to escape were redoubled, and the
weakly cries of fear became more piteous. Arthur perceived that to the
top of the sapling was fastened a steel snaptrap, clasping a forepaw in
its cruel teeth, and that each convulsive effort to get free only set the
animal dangling in the air, as a trout is played from a rod. Hopelessly
snared, indeed, was the poor marten; he had not even the resource
of parting with his paw, which, had he had any 'purchase' to strive
against, would probably have been his choice. By what blandishments of
bait he had ever been seduced into his present melancholy position was
out of Arthur's power to imagine.

But now at least it was beyond all doubt that men were near. Raising his
eyes from inspection of the marten-trap, he saw on a tree close by a
freshly-cut blaze. Some rods farther on he could see another. Now a
question arose, which way should he follow the line?--one end was
probably in pathless forest. He concluded to take that direction which
suited the smoke he had seen.

He wondered what blazed lino this was--whether marking the side lots of
a concession, or a hunter's private road through the woods. Presently,
at a little distance, the sight of a man's figure stooping almost made
his heart leap into his mouth. How lonely he had been, how almost
desperate at times, he had not fully known till this his deliverance.
Oh, that blessed human form! be he the rudest trapper or Indian, Arthur
could have embraced him. Much more when, the face being lifted from
examining the trap, and fixing its eyes with a very astonished stare on
the approaching figure, Arthur recognised the shrewd features of Peter
Logan.

CHAPTER XVII.

BACK TO CEDAR CREEK.

'I declar, if you hain't 'most skeered me!' was Peter's exclamation.
'For sartin I never seed a ghost, but it looked like enough this time.
Now, do tell what brought you so far from hum? Thirteen mile, if it's
a r