"Thoughtful King!" lisped Pisew.
"True, true," confirmed Beaver. "François would surely find the trail. There is no other way, unless--unless--"
"Unless what, faithful Little Friend?"
"Unless you take the way of our People."
"And that way--Friend?"
"Cut off the leg!"
"Horrible!" ejaculated Lynx.
"Horrible for you, Frog-heart," interposed Jack. "The King is different--he's got pluck."
"Your Majesty will never get the Trap off," continued Beaver, "until Muskwa the Strong comes out in the Spring. Even if you did carry it home, your leg would go bad before that time."
Black Fox pondered for a minute, weighing carefully the terrible alternative. On one hand was the risk of leading the Trapper to his carefully concealed home, and months of tortured idleness with the Trap on his leg; on the other the permanent crippling of himself by amputation.