examined the scene of the struggle minutely, kicking the loose
snow about, but failed to find the clog.

"Why, he skipped out, clog and all! That clog wasn't very heavy."

"No, she ain' heavy, but she fasten in de middle, an' she ketch in de
brush an' hol' _loup cervier_ tight, you bet! You ain' see no track
w'ere de stick drag, eh?"

Connie scrutinized the trail of the lynx, but the snow gave no sign of
the clog. He turned a puzzled glance upon the Indian. "That's funny. He
certainly didn't leave it here, and he couldn't have dragged it without
leaving a trail, even if it hadn't caught on the brush."

Again 'Merican Joe laughed. "No, he ain' leave it--an' he ain' drag it.
He ol' man _loup cervier_--he smart. He fin' out he ain' kin break
loose, an' he ain' kin drag de stick, so he pick him up an' carry him in
de mout'. But he ain' so mooch smart lak he t'ink. De firs' t'ing de
_loup cervier_ do w'en you chase um--he climb de tree. He t'ink de snare
chase um--so he climb de tree. Den, by-m-by he git tire to hol' de stick
in de mout' an' he let him go. Den he set on de limb long time an'
growl. Den he t'ink he go som' mor', an' he start to climb down de tree.
An' den de stick ketch on de limb an' he can't git down. He pull an'
fight, but dat ain' no good--so he giv' de big jump--an' den he git
hung--lak de mans do w'en dey kill nodder mans. Com' on--he ain' lak to
go far. He lak to climb de tree. We fin' um queek."

That 'Merican Joe knew what he was talking about was soon demonstrated.
For several hundred yards the tracks led straight through the swamp.
Suddenly the Indian halted at the foot of a spruce that reared high
above its neighbours and pointed to the snow which was littered with
needles and bits of bark. There were no tracks beyond the foot of the
tree, and Connie peered upward, but so thick were the branches that he
could see nothing. Removing his snowshoes and pack, 'Merican Joe climbed
the tree and a few moments later Connie heard the blows of his belt ax
as he hacked at the limb that held the clog. There was a swish of
snow-laden branches, and amid a deluge of fine snow the frozen body of
the lynx struck the ground at the boy's feet.

Loading himself with as much as his pack sack could hold, the Indian
struck off to get the toboggan, leaving Connie to pack the carcass of
the lynx and the remaining rabbits back to the noon-time _cache_. This
necessitated two trips, and when Connie returned with the sec