When they reached the place of Rolf's first deer they turned aside to see it. The gray jays had picked a good deal of the loose meat. No large animal had troubled it, and yet in the neighbourhood they found the tracks of both wolves and foxes.
“Ugh,” said Quonab, “they smell it and come near, but they know that a man has been here; they are not very hungry, so keep away. This is good for trap.”
So they made two deadfalls with the carrion half way between them. Then one or two more traps and they reached home, arriving at the camp just as darkness and a heavy rainfall began.
“Good,” said Quonab, “our deadfalls are ready; we have done all the work our fingers could not do when the weather is very cold, and the ground too hard for stakes to be driven. Now the traps can get weathered before we go round and set them. Yet we need some strong medicine, some trapper charm.”
Next morning he went forth with fish-line and fish-spear; he soon returned with a pickerel. He filled a bottle with cut-up shreds of this, corked it up, and hung it on the warm, sunny side of the shanty. “That will make a charm that every bear will come to,” he said, and left it to the action of the sun.
Chapter 27. Sick Dog Skookum
Getting home is always a joy; but walking about the place in the morning they noticed several little things that were wrong. Quonab's lodge was down, the paddles that stood against the shanty were scattered on the ground, and a bag of venison hung high at the ridge was opened and empty.
Quonab studied the tracks and announced “a bad old black bear; he has rollicked round for mischief, upsetting things. But the venison he could not reach; that was a marten that ripped open the bag.”
“Then that tells what we should do; build a storehouse at the end of the shanty,” said Rolf, adding, “it must be tight and it must be cool.”