“Weewah’s heart was big, even if his body was small. And so one day he took all his long arrows, his strongest bow, and his tomahawk and resolved to go into the big woods at some distance from the village, and do something worthy of a hunter.
“It was winter time, and the snow on the ground was knee-deep with just a little crust on it. On his snow-shoes Weewah glided through the forest, noticing everything he passed and fixing it in his memory instinctively so that he could be sure of finding the back trail. For this day he meant to go deep, deep into the spruce swamp in his hunting. There he would find game worthy of the bow of the mighty hunter he intended to prove himself.
“The tracks of many animals crossed his path, little wood dwellers such as rabbits and an occasional mink. But these did not interest him to-day. He had brought his snares, of course, for he always carried them; but to-day his heart was too full of a mighty ambition to allow such little things as rabbit snares to interrupt his plans.
“Once he did stop when he saw, just ahead of him on the snow, a little brown bunch of fur with two big brown eyes looking at him wonderingly. In an instant he had drawn the poised arrow to his cheek and released it with a twang. And a moment later the little brown bunch of fur was in Weewah’s pouch, ready for making into rabbit stew in the evening.
“Weewah took it as a good omen that he had killed the rabbit on the very edge of the spruce swamp that he had selected for his hunting ground. Soon he would find game more worthy of his arrows or his axe. And so he was not surprised, even if his heart did give an extra bound, when presently he came upon the track of a lynx. It was a fresh track, too, and the footprints were those of a very big lynx.
“Weewah knew all this the moment he looked at the tracks, just as he knew a thousand other things that he had learned in the school of observation. He knew also that in all probability the animal was not half a mile away, possibly waiting in some tree, or crouching in some bushes looking for ptarmigan or rabbit. He was sure, also, that he could run faster on his snow-shoes than the lynx could in that deep soft snow.
“So for several minutes he stood and thought as fast as he could. What a grand day for him it would be if he could come back to the village dragging a great lynx after him! No one would ever tell him again that he was too small to be a hunter.
“But while he was sorely tempted to rush after the animal with the possibility of getting a shot, or a chance for a blow of his axe, he knew that this was not the surest way to get his prey. He had discovered the hunting ground of the big cat, and he knew that there was no danger of its leaving the neighborhood so long as the supply of rabbits held out. By taking a little more time, then, Weewah knew he could surely bring the fellow into camp. And so he curbed his eagerness.
“Instead of rushing off along the trail, bow bent and arrow on the string, he opened his pouch and took out a stout buckskin string—a string strong enough to resist the pull of the largest lynx. In one end of this he made a noose with a running knot. Next he cut a stout stick three inches thick and as tall as himself. Then he walked along the trail of the lynx for a little distance, looking sharply on either side, until he found a low-hanging, thick bunch of spruce boughs near which the animal had passed. Here the boy stopped and cut two more strong sticks, driving them into the ground about two feet apart, so that they stood three feet above the snow and right in front of a low-hanging bunch of spruce boughs.
“At the top of each he had left a crotch, across which he now laid his stick with the looped string dangling from the center. The contrivance when completed looked like a great figure H, from the cross-bar of which hung the loop just touching the top of the snow.