"Didn't call out to him, Umisk, eh?" asked Jay--"didn't clap each other on the back with your tails and say, 'Here comes a Chum.'"
Umisk proceeded, paying no attention to the flippant Bird. "When the Breed came opposite our Road he stopped his canoe, let it drift gently up to the bank, pulled out a Trap and set it in muddy water just at the foot of the path. He was clever enough not to touch the land even with his paddle, so there was no scent--nothing to warn a poor Beaver of the danger. Then he floated on down. If I had not seen the whole thing this depraved taker of our lives would have caught me sure; for you know how we go into the water, Nekik, just as you do--head and hands first."
"That's an old trick of François's," exclaimed Carcajou; "and you'll find that is just what he has done here. If Mister Nekik will feel cautiously at the foot of his Slide he will find something hard and smooth, not at all like a stick or a stone."
"Fat Fish! but I'm afraid of my fingers," whistled Otter.
"Sure, if you work from the top," retorted Carcajou. "Sideways is the game with the Trap always--or upward."
"You forgot that, Mister Carcajou, when you tackled the Chimney," twittered Jay.
"I didn't burn my tongue, anyway."
"Is Nekik afraid to safeguard his own Slide," sneered Whisky-Jack.
"Shut up, Quarrel Maker!" interposed the King, "you know Otter is one of the pluckiest fighters inside the Boundaries. It's only brainless Animals who tackle things they know nothing about."
"Dive their beaks into hot Pork, your Most Wise Majesty," echoed Lynx, with a fawning smile.