"
"He's worth ten martens, they say?" queried Rolf.
"Ugh! fifty."
"Can't we get him?"
"Can try. But the water set will not work in winter; we must try
different."
This was the plan, the best that Quonab could devise for the
snow: Saving the ashes from the fire (dry sand would have
answered), he selected six open places in the woods on the south
of the lake, and in each made an ash bed on which he scattered
three or four drops of the smell-charm. Then, twenty-five yards
from each, on the north or west side (the side of the prevailing
wind) he hung from some sapling a few feathers, a partridge wing
or tail with some red yarns to it. He left the places unvisited
for two weeks, then returned to learn the progress of act one.
Judging from past experience of fox nature and from the few signs
that were offered by the snow, this is what had happened: A fox
came along soon after the trappers left, followed the track a
little way, came to the first opening, smelled the seductive
danger-lure, swung around it, saw the dangling feathers, took
alarm, and went off. Another of the places had been visited by a
marten.
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