ered their fish
at the post, and Connie employed two of them with their dog teams to
make the trip. The journey was uneventful enough, with only one storm to
break the monotony of steady trailing with the thermometer at forty and
even fifty below--for the strong cold had settled upon the Northland in
earnest.

Upon the sixth day 'Merican Joe halted the outfit upon the shore of a
little lake which lay some five miles from the south shore of Keith Bay.
"Build camp here," he said, indicating a low knoll covered with a dense
growth of spruce. Connie paid off the guides with an order on the
Hudson's Bay Company, and hardly had they disappeared before he and
'Merican Joe were busy clearing away the snow and setting up the tent
that was to serve as temporary quarters until the tiny cabin that would
be their winter home could be completed.

The extra sled provided by the Indians, and the fact that they were to
go only a comparatively short distance from the post, had induced Connie
to add to his outfit a few conveniences that would have been entirely
out of the question had he insisted in pushing on to the Coppermine.
There was a real sheet iron stove with several lengths of pipe, a double
window--small to be sure, but provided with panes of glass--and enough
planking for a small sized door and door frame. Although the snow all
about them showed innumerable tracks of the fur bearers, the two paid no
attention to them until the cabin stood finished in its tiny clearing.
And a snug little cabin it was, with its walls banked high with snow,
its chinks all sealed with water-soaked snow that froze hard the moment
it was in place, and its roof of small logs completely covered with a
thick layer of the same wind-proof covering.

On the morning following the completion of the cabin Connie and 'Merican
Joe ate their breakfast by candlelight. Connie glanced toward the pile
of steel traps of assorted sizes that lay in the corner. "We'll be
setting them today, Joe. The fox tracks are thick all along the lake,
and yesterday I saw where a big lynx had prowled along the edge of that
windfall across the coulee."

'Merican Joe smiled. "Firs' we got to git de bait. Dat ain' no good we
set de trap wit'out no bait."

"What kind of bait? And where do we get it?" asked the boy.

"Mos' any kin'--rabbit, bird, caribou, moose. Today we set 'bout wan
hondre snare for de rabbit. We tak' de leetle gun 'long, mebbe-so we git
de shot at de ptarmigan.