"Well, trot along in front," grunted Carcajou; "I want to fix the trail a bit." After they had walked for half an hour Wolverine stopped, and, cocking his eye up a slim pole which seemed to grow from the centre of a high Spruce stump, exclaimed, "Great-Eating! what in the name of Wiesahkechack is that?"
"Meat!" answered Pisew, looking at something which dangled from the top of the pole.
"It's François again," said Carcajou, sniffing at the stump.
"What a splendid cache," cried Lynx, admiringly; "nobody but Squirrel could climb that pole."
"But they might knock it down," declared Carcajou. "I have a notion to try."
"Better leave it alone," advised Pisew. "If it's François, there's something wrong."
"Carcajou doesn't take advice from a cotton-headed Cat," sneered the other. "Easy Killing! but I'm going up to see what it's like. I know that stump--it's hollow; there is no chance for a Trap there." It was about three feet high. Wolverine made a running jump, grabbing the top edge to pull himself up; as he did so something snapped. A howl of enraged surprise came from the little animal as he dangled with hind toes just touching the ground, and his fore-paws in a steel Trap which he had pulled over the side. The cunning Breed had blocked up his Trap on the inside of the hollow shell, where it was invisible from the ground.
"For the Sake of Security! don't make such a noise," pleaded Pisew.
"Fool-talker!" retorted Carcajou; "come and help me out of this fix."
"I can't open the Trap," objected Lynx; "why, it would take the strength of Muskwa to flatten its springs."