So it
proved a fatal error. He was strong and brave. He fought at
least another hour here before the much stronger, heavier lynx
had done him to death. There was no justification. It was a
clear case of tyrannical murder, but in this case vengeance was
swift and justice came sooner than its wont.
Chapter 41. The Enemy's Fort
It pays 'bout once in a hundred times to git mad, but there
ain't any way o' tellin' beforehand which is the time
- Sayings of Si Sylvanne.
It generally took two days to run the west line of traps. At a
convenient point they had built a rough shack for a half-way
house. On entering this one day, they learned that since their
last visit it had been occupied by some one who chewed tobacco.
Neither of them had this habit. Quonab's face grew darker each
time fresh evidence of the enemy was discovered, and the final
wrong was added soon.
Some trappers mark their traps; some do not bother. Rolf had
marked all of theirs with a file, cutting notches on the iron.
Two, one, three, was their mark, and it was a wise plan, as it
turned out.
On going around the west beaver pond they found that all six
traps had disappeared.
Pages:
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220