When the Indian saw that Frank seemed so crestfallen at his comments he at once hastened to assure him that they all had to learn much about these animals, and now he said:
“You and I will go to work and see if we cannot get that fox in a trap again, even if his half foot tells us he has been there before.”
The first thing they did was to decide where to set the traps.
“Not much hurry, though, about that,” said Memotas. “We must first have a fire to burn all of Frank off the traps.”
This was a bit of a puzzle to Frank at first, but when Memotas told Frank that every time he handled a trap or a bit of bait he left enough of himself on it for the fox to know all that he wanted to about him, it was more unintelligible than ever.
At a spot about a couple of hundred yards away from where the traps were to be set a fire was built. When it was brightly burning Memotas cut a long pole, and then, springing or setting the trap, had Frank fasten a good-sized piece of meat as bait securely on with a fine wire.
“Now,” said Memotas, as he carefully lifted up the set trap on the end of his pole, “we will burn old Injun and Frank off that trap and bait.”
Then he held the trap in the fire until the meat fairly sizzled and the steel trap was quite hot.
“Guess all Injun and Frank now have gone up in smoke, so, Mr Fox, you’ll not find us when you come skulking round this trap, anyway.”
The old man chuckled, and Frank now understood what he had meant.