my."

"How does he do it then?" asked Spider.

"You'll see by watching Tolly Tip," the scout-master told him.
"Sometimes trappers set their snares by means of a skiff, so as not to
leave a trace of their presence, for water carries no scent. Then
again they will wade to and from the place where the trap is set."

"But in the winter-time they couldn't do that, could they?" protested
Spider.

"Of course not, and to overcome that obstacle they sometimes use a
scent that overpowers their own, as well as serves to draw the animal
to the fatal trap."

"Oh! I remember now seeing some such thing advertised in a sporting
magazine as worth its weight in gold to all trappers. And the more I
hear about this the stronger my desire grows to see into it. Are we
going to start soon, Paul?"

"There's Tolly Tip almost ready to move along, so get your gun, and
I'll look after my camera, Spider."

At the time they left Camp Garrity it presented quite a bustling
picture. There was Bobolink lustily swinging the axe and cutting some
wood close by the shed where a winter's supply of fuel had been piled
up. Tom Betts was busying himself cleaning some of the fish taken on
the preceding day. Jack was hanging out all the blankets on several
lines for an airing, as they still smelled of camphor to a
disagreeable extent. Several others were moving to and fro engaged in
various duties.

As the two scouts trotted along at the heels of the old woodsman they
found many things to chat about, for there was no need of keeping
silent at this early stage of the hike. Later on when in the vicinity
of the trap line it would be necessary to bridle their tongues, or at
least to talk in whispers, for the wary little animals would be apt to
shun a neighborhood where they heard the sound of human voices.

"One reason I wanted to come out this morning," explained Paul, "was
that there seems to be a feeling in the air that spells storm to me.
If we had a heavy fall of snow the beaver house might be hidden from
view."

"What's that you say, Paul--a storm, when the sun's shining as bright
as ever it could? Have you had a wireless from Washington?" demanded
Spider, grinning.

"Oh! I seem to _feel_ it in my bones," laughed Paul. "Always did
affect me that way, somehow or other. And nine times out of ten my
barometer tells me truly. How about that, Tolly Tip? Is this fine
weather apt to last much longer?"

The guide seemed to be amused at what they were s