lipped the
noose over the neck of the first one; a sharp jerk then tightened noose,
and brought the grouse tumbling out of the tree while its companions
merely clucked their puzzlement, made no effort to escape.

A short, sharp blow put the captive out of pain. The rod was reached
again and a second, the lowest always, was jerked down, and the trick
repeated till three grouse were secured. Then only did it dawn on the
others that they were in a most perilous neighbourhood, so they took
flight.

Rolf sat up in amazement. Quonab dropped the three birds by the fire and
set about preparing breakfast.

"These are fool hens," he explained. "You can mostly get them this way;
sure, if you have a dog to help, but ruffed grouse is no such fool."

Rolf dressed the birds and as usual threw the entrails Skookum. Poor
little dog! he was, indeed, a sorry sight. He looked sadly out of his
bulging eyes, feebly moved swollen jaws, but did not touch the food he
once would have pounced on. He did not eat because he could not open his
mouth.

At camp the trappers made a log trap and continued the line with blazes
and deadfalls, until, after a mile, they came to a broad tamarack swamp,
and, skirting its edge, found a small, outflowing stream that brought
them to an eastward-facing hollow. Everywhere there were signs game,
but they were not prepared for the scene that opened as they cautiously
pushed through the thickets into a high, hardwood bush. A deer rose
out of the grass and stared curiously at them; then another and another
until nearly a dozen were in sight; still farther many others appeared;
to the left were more, and movements told of yet others to the right.
Then their white flags went up and all loped gently away on the slope
that rose to the north. There may have been twenty or thirty deer in
sight, but the general effect of all their white tails, bobbing away,
was that the woods were full of deer. They seemed to be there by the
hundreds and the joy of seeing so many beautiful live things was helped
in the hunters by the feeling that this was their own hunting-ground.
They had, indeed, reached the land of plenty.

The stream increased as they marched; many springs and some important
rivulets joined on. They found some old beaver signs but none new; and
they left their deadfalls every quarter mile or less.

The stream began to descend more quickly until it was in a long, narrow
valley with steep clay sides and many pools.