"But he may be a long time discovering it," ventured Umisk, pointing out a seeming difficulty.
"Leave that to me," pleaded Whisky-Jack; "you provide the Bait, and I'll provide the Thief who'll try to steal it."
It being settled that way, the Council adjourned, Carcajou and Whisky-Jack being selected as a Committee of Execution. Wolverine showed Jay where the snare was placed, and while he cleverly arranged the bacon beyond its quick-slipping noose, the latter scoured the Forests and muskegs for Pisew until he found him.
"Hello, Feather-Feet!" he hailed the Lynx with.
"Good-day, Gossip!" retorted Pisew.
"You're looking well fed for this Year of Famine, my carnivorous Friend," said Whisky-Jack, pleasantly.
"Yes, I'm fat because of much fasting," answered Lynx. "The memory of Carcajou's Fat-eating alone keeps me alive; I'm starved--I'm as thin as a snow-shoe. It's days since my form would even cast a shadow--can you not see right through me, Eagle-eyed Bird?"
"I think I can," declared the Jay, meaning Lynx's methods, more than his thick-woolled body.
"I'm starving!" reasserted the Cat. "If Carcajou were half so generous as he pretends, he should give me another piece of that Fat-eating; it would save my life--really it would." He was pleading poverty with an exaggerated flourish, lest he be suspected of the ill-gotten wealth of Fish.
"Yes, Carcajou is a miser," affirmed Whisky-Jack. "He still has some of the Man's bacon cached."