scalp
under his fur cap caused him to turn his head slightly and so meet the
unwinking gaze of a pair of pale yellow orbs. Involuntarily Dave
stiffened. The creature's round, moon-like face, gray-brown fur and
tufted ears proclaimed it a Canada lynx, one of the most savage of the
cat tribe.

[Illustration: Slowly it advanced, its body almost brushing the snow.]

As a rule, the lynx, in common with other wilderness inhabitants, is shy
of man; still he is not to be trusted. The winter had been a hard one,
game was scarce and the animal was emboldened by hunger. Moreover it
seemed to know that the man was crippled. Slowly it advanced, its body
almost brushing the snow, its huge furry pads making no sound upon the
smooth crust, its unwinking eyes fixed upon those of the man.

The perspiration stood out upon Dave's forehead as he stared back into
the brilliant, cruel eyes of the lynx. He was unarmed save for his
hunting knife, a poor weapon against so savage a beast, yet he drew it,
determined to die fighting.

A few paces away the lynx paused and the trapper could see the muscles
of its powerful hind legs gather for the spring. His own muscles braced
instinctively to meet it. But strangely the animal's attention wavered.
It sniffed the air uncertainly. An instant later there came a furious
barking and a yell which seemed to shatter the silence as a delicate
vase is shattered by a blow. The lynx shrank back and with one bound
melted into the shadows of the forest. At the same moment Pal, closely
followed by his master, rushed up and with a friendly red tongue licked
the trapper's face.

"I didn't know I could yell so," chuckled the Hermit. "Like to scared
the beast to death. It is a good thing Pal found you when he did,
though. You look about frozen."

He had picked up the trapper's axe, which he now used to good effect. In
another moment the cruel jaws of the trap had been loosened and the foot
was free, though Dave was unable to stand. Good woodsmen as they were,
they were equal to the emergency. The axe again came into play, and on a
rude sledge made of thick spruce boughs, the wounded man began the trip
to the Hermit's cabin which was nearer than his own. Pal frisked
joyously about, now at the head of the little procession, again bringing
up the rear, growling deep in his throat at some imaginary enemy of the
wonderful beings whom it was his duty to protect. It was some distance
through the heavy forest, fast grow