After the tent had been put up, two of the horses picketed, and dinner eaten, Hugh said to Jack, "Now, son, if you want to go off on a prospecting tour this afternoon, you better go. I am going to be busy all the afternoon looking over my traps and making my medicine."
"Your medicine, Hugh," asked Jack, "what is that?"
"My beaver medicine," Hugh answered; "that is the stuff we are going to use to make the beaver come into the trap."
"Oh, yes," said Jack, "I know; I've heard about that. It's a great secret how it's made, isn't it, Hugh? I used to ask the trappers up among the Blackfeet, and they always made some joke about it and never would tell me what it was."
"Well," answered Hugh, "you'll find all trappers are just like that, but before we get home I guess you will see me make it, and then if you use your eyes and nose, perhaps you'll learn how to make it yourself. But this afternoon," he went on, "I am going to take out my traps and go over them, see that they work well, and get them ready to set to-morrow. If you want to go hunting or looking around, or studying anything, you go ahead and do it, only I'd get back here an hour or two by sun, so that we can have our supper by daylight."
"All right," said Jack. "I think I'll take my rifle and walk on up the creek. We don't greatly need any meat, but I might see something that was worth shooting at."
"Well," said Hugh, "if I were you I wouldn't shoot much down in the valley. I'd like to keep everything about camp as quiet as possible for the next two or three days."
"I'll remember it," said Jack, and rising he took up his rifle and strode off up the stream.