a cold flame Miki set off in
direction of Le Beau's trapline. He came to where Le Beau had passed
yesterday and sniffed suspiciously of the man-smell that was still
strong in the snowshoe tracks. He had become accustomed to this smell,
but he had not lost his suspicion of it. It was repugnant to him, even
as it fascinated him. It filled him with an inexplicable fear, and yet
he found himself powerless to run away from it. Three times in the last
ten days he had seen the man-brute himself. Once he had been hiding
within a dozen yards of Le Beau when he passed.

This morning he headed straight for the swamp through which Le Beau's
traps were set. There the rabbits were thickest and it was in the swamp
that they most frequently got in Jacques's KEKEKS--the little houses he
built of sticks and cedar boughs to keep the snow off his baits. They
were so numerous that they were a pest, and each time that Le Beau made
his trip over the line he found at least two out of every three traps
sprung by them, and therefore made useless for the catching of fur.
But, where there were many rabbits there were also fishers and lynx,
and in spite of the rage which the plague of rabbits sent him into, Le
Beau continued to set his traps there. And now, in addition to the
rabbits, he had the wild dog to contend with.

His heart was fired by a vengeful anticipation as he hurried on through
the glow of the early sun, with The Killer at his heels, led by a
BABICHE thong. Miki was nosing about the first trap-house as Netah and
Le Beau entered the edge of the swamp, three miles to the east.

It was in this KEKEK that Miki had killed the fisher-cat the previous
morning. It was empty now. Even the bait-peg was gone, and there was no
sign of a trap. A quarter of a mile farther on he came to a second
trap-house, and this also was empty. He was a bit puzzled. And then he
went on to the third house. He stood for several minutes, sniffing the
air still more suspiciously, before he drew close to it. The man-tracks
were thicker here. The snow was beaten down with them, and the scent of
Le Beau was so strong in the air that for a space Miki believed he was
near. Then he advanced so that he got a look into the door of the
trap-house. Squatted there, staring at him with big round eyes, was a
huge snowshoe rabbit. A premonition of danger held Miki back. It was
something in the attitude of Wapoos, the old rabbit. He was not like
the others he had caught along L