Ren nodded and they turned their horses and rode on up the trail to their cabin about two miles away. They unsaddled their horses at the corral and then laid down on their bunks for a much-needed rest.
It was almost dark when Ren awoke and looked around the cabin. Sig was gone. Ren got up and was lazily pulling on his boots when Sig came in with a hammer in his hand and a smile on his face.
“Th’ sleek hare sleeps while th’ sly fox schemes,” he quoted dramatically. “I reckon I’ve laid uh trap fer Oscar.”
He hung up the hammer and went out again. A few moments later he was back of the cabin fumbling with the one window. “Help me take this thing out, Ren!” he yelled.
Ren removed the nails from the inside and Sig removed the window and threw in the end of his lariat rope.
“What’s th’ idea?” asked Ren.
Sig grinned and coiled up the rope.
“Cougar trap. I got this rope fixed so’s that when th’ cougar gits inside of th’ shed, all we got to do is to pull on th’ rope and th’ door shuts. There’s uh quarter uh venison in th’ shed and I’m bettin’ that Oscar falls fer it, Ren. What do yuh think about it?”
“Sig, yore uh wonder! I’m bettin’ that you’ve already deduced how to tie him up after we gits him inside. I shore honors and respects yuh, old timer, and as uh special mark of respect I allows yuh to prepare our evenin’ meal. I’m so hungry I could eat Oscar, I reckon.”
Three hours later they sat humped up on their bunk and watched the door of the shed, a splotch of black in the half moonlight, and prayed that the cougar would come before they lost too much sleep.