Wild Creatures in Winter

CHAPTER 2I 

"WELL, well," said Fisher the Bold. "I do believe these are Killer the Marten's tracks, and he is following Trailer the Mink too. Now won't that be fun to go a-trailing after them?"

Fisher the Bold liked to travel as well as Killer the Marten and Trailer the Mink did; but that was not strange, because he was their cousin. But Fisher the Bold was larger and fiercer than either of them. He could have killed Killer the Marten in a fair fight.

Fisher the Bold liked to hunt among the Tree Tops. He could run through the Springy Limbs faster than even Killer the Marten could, and that was very fast. Yes, sir, when Fisher the Bold started out to catch something, he fairly flew through the Tree Tops. And on the ground he could outrun Snowshoe the Hare.

Quite often Fisher the Bold wore Sharp Little Spears in his mouth and face, which Sticker the Porcupine had put there. It seemed as if Fisher the Bold had very poor judgment, for he was always ready to pounce upon Sticker and his friends whenever he saw them. But for that matter, Fisher the Bold was not afraid to pounce upon Furry Friends that were much larger than he.

And so, instead of just Trailer the Mink and Killer the Marten, poor Snowshoe the Hare had Fisher the Bold in his Bitter Willow Bushes too. And there he sat in his Cozy Form. It was a wonder that Shadow the Lynx was not there also, looking for him.

"I must hurry and see if I can catch Killer the Marten," said Fisher the Bold to himself.

"I must hurry and catch Trailer the Mink," thought Killer the Marten.

"I wonder where I can find Snowshoe the Hare," Trailer the Mink was asking himself.

And so while Trailer the Mink ran up and down the Sheltered Bunny Lanes looking for Snowshoe the Hare, Killer the Marten was trying his best to catch up with him. And there was Fisher the Bold hurrying to catch up with Killer the Marten.

Now the reason why every one was in such a hurry was that the Gray Cloud Ships were sailing over and threatening to unload their Fleecy Snow any minute. And that is just what they started to do about the time the Laughing Yellow Sun should have been peeping out of the east.

Down came the Merry Little Snowflakes dancing and whirling into every Sheltered Bunny Lane.

Soon they had found the Crooked Little Trail of Trailer the Mink and had filled every Scratchy Little Track that he had left. Yes, sir, there wasn't a sign that Trailer had gone that way

For a while Killer followed the direction that the Playful Air Whiffs told him Trailer had gone, but it did not take the Merry Little Snowflakes long to cover up the Familiar Scent.

"I guess I shall just have to find a Hiding Place and wait until the Merry Little Snowflakes stop tumbling down," said Killer the Marten to himself. And then he crawled into a Warm Hollow Log and went to sleep.

Of course, the Merry Little Snowflakes also covered Killer the Marten's Scratchy Little Tracks, and Fisher the Bold could no longer follow them.

"I see a Jumbled Rock Pile that will be a safe Hiding Place," said Fisher the Bold. "I shall sleep there until the Merry Little Snowflakes stop falling; then maybe I can find Killer the Marten."

Snowshoe the Hare sat in his Cozy Form and watched the Fleecy Snow grow deeper and deeper around his doorway. In a little while Snowshoe was covered with a Soft White Blanket. You never would have known he was there in his white coat.

After a while Snowshoe the Hare poked his head through the Soft White Blanket and peeped out.

The Gray Cloud Ships had sailed on, leaving Fluffy White Mantles on the trees. The Laughing Yellow Sun was nodding good night behind the Tree Tops, and soon the Weird Darkness would creep out and chase away the Long Shadows.

Snowshoe the Hare hopped out on the Fleecy Snow and looked around. "I believe I'll run over to the Big Jungle Thicket and eat some Wild Cherry Bark," he said.

Now when Trailer the Mink awoke, he did not like the idea of wading in the Fleecy Snow to find Snowshoe the Hare. And so away he went down Little River toward his own Hidden Den. He would rather find a Wide Crack in the Glassy Ice and then hunt under the Glassy Ice as he had done at other times.

Killer the Marten came out of the Warm Hollow Log and tried to find Trailer the Mink's Crooked Little Trail. But sniff as hard as he might he could not find it.

"I suppose I may as well go back to the High Mountains and see if I can find Whitetail the Ptarmigan," he said; "but I do wish I could have found Trailer the Mink." He would have been just as pleased to catch Snowshoe the Hare.

Fisher the Bold was not in very good humor when he came out of his Jumbled Rock Pile and saw that all the Sheltered Bunny Lanes were filled with Fleecy Snow. But it did not take him long to find the Crooked Little Trail that Killer the Marten had left when he started back toward the High Mountains.

"Well, well, I see that Killer the Marten is out already," said Fisher the Bold. "I know it will be easy to catch him in this deep Fleecy Snow."

Away went Fisher the Bold as fast as he could run, leaving another Crooked Little Trail with the one that Killer the Marten had left. Now who do you suppose saw those Crooked Little Trails the next morning?

WELL, sir, it was Trapper Jim who saw those Crooked Little Trails the next day. You see, when he went to bed about the time that Killer the Marten and Fisher the Bold started for the High Mountains, the Gray Cloud Ships had sailed on and the Merry Little Snowflakes were no longer falling.

"To-morrow I shall take my traps and go out to look for Crooked Little Trails," said Trapper Jim to himself.

Trapper Jim knew that during the night the Furry Friends would be out making Crooked Little Trails everywhere in the new Fleecy Snow. He knew that if he could find their Crooked Little Trails, he could set traps for them.

So, bright and early Trapper Jim put on his Webby Snowshoes and started out across the White Fields, carrying a bunch of traps. Just before he came to the Old Homestead, Trapper Jim turned off and went toward the Black Forest.

Farmer Smith did not want anyone to set traps on the Old Homestead unless it was necessary. Of course, if Reddy Fox or Shaggy the Wolf or Snoop the Weasel or some of the other Furbearers became too bold and caught some of Old Cluck's Chicklets, then something had to be done about it; and traps were set.

But Farmer Smith did not think it was right to make the Furbearers suffer, and to take their lives, just to get their Silky Fur to wear. He knew that some of the Furbearers like Spot the Skunk and his cousin Mephitis the Skunk were his friends and helped to keep the Fat Grasshoppers and Plump Grubs and Whiskers the Mouse from destroying his crops.

Trapper Jim knew that Farmer Smith did not allow any trapping on the Old Homestead; that was why he turned toward the Black Forest. It seemed as if many of the Furbearers that lived on the Old Homestead were asleep anyway, such as Digger the Badger and Mephitis the Skunk and Billy Coon.

But most of the Furbearers that lived in the Black Forest, like Killer the Marten and Fisher the Bold and Shadow the Lynx and Shaggy the Wolf, did not mind the Wintry Weather at all. Trapper Jim knew that in the Black Forest was a good place to look for their Crooked Little Trails.

Just before Trapper Jim reached the Black Forest, he turned toward Little River. He thought he might see the Crooked Little Trail of Trailer the Mink, because he knew that Trailer liked to go visiting along Little River.

Sure enough, there was Trailer's Crooked Little Trail as plain as anything; and there was the Wide Crack in the Glassy Ice where he had gone under it.

"Ha-ha," laughed Trapper Jim; "here's just the place to set a trap. Then the next time Trailer comes this way he will jump right into it."

Trapper Jim set one of his traps and placed it right under the Wide Crack where Trailer's foot would strike it if he jumped down in there again. Then Trapper Jim went on his way toward the Black Forest.

"Ha-ha," he laughed, "if here isn't the Crooked Little Trail of Killer the Marten, and I see that Fisher the Bold is following him. I shall just see where they are going."

And so along the Crooked Little Trails went Trapper Jim. Every little way he would stop and set a trap and leave a Tempting Bait beside it. He thought that if Killer the Marten or Fisher the Bold or Shadow the Lynx went by that way, the Playful Air Whiffs would tell them about the Tempting Baits. Then when they came to the Tempting Baits, they would walk right into the traps he had set for them. They would be so hungry they would never think of traps at all.

"Well, I guess I may as well go home," said Trapper Jim, when he had set his last trap. "Tomorrow I shall be sure to have a nice catch of Furbearers."

But that was once when Trapper Jim was mistaken; and it all happened like this:

Killer the Marten and Fisher the Bold had a cousin. His name was Carcajou the Glutton. Carcajou was much larger than either of them, and he was very fierce. He was so fierce that he was sometimes called Wolverine the Terrible. The Indians were the first to call him Carcajou, because that was their way of saying "devil." He was the largest and fiercest in the Weasel family, and Snoop was the smallest.

Now if there was one thing that Carcajou liked to do better than anything else, it was to eat. It seemed as if he was always ready to eat. Sometimes we see people who are just like that, and we call them "gluttons." Carcajou the Glutton was always hungry, and he was always in a ferocious mood. He was always cross.

One day Carcajou the Glutton was walking through the Black Forest. He was looking for something to eat, as usual. Sometimes Sneak the Cougar would kill one of Lightfoot the Deer's friends and eat only a part of it. Then Carcajou would come along and finish it. He would have a feast while Growler the Bear was asleep in his Warm Dark Cave and could not find it first. He was looking for something like that in the Black Forest.

Suddenly Carcajou saw a Snowshoe Trail in the Fleecy Snow. It was the Snowshoe Trail that Trapper Jim had made.

"Now I wonder if Trapper Jim has been setting traps in the Black Forest and has left some Tempting Baits," thought Carcajou the Glutton. And then he went over to find out what that Snowshoe Trail was all about.

"Sniff, sniff," went Carcajou; "yes, sir, it surely was Trapper Jim who made this Snowshoe Trail; I smell the Sweet-Smelling Lure that he dragged behind him to get the Furbearers to follow him to his traps."

Carcajou the Glutton was very wise. He had a keen nose, and he could tell where every trap was set. So he just followed the Snowshoe Trail and ate all the Tempting Baits that Trapper Jim had left, and spoiled the sets as he went. Then he went back to his home in the High Mountains.

Wasn't Trapper Jim angry when he saw what Carcajou had done! for, of course, he could not catch the Furbearers after Carcajou had spoiled the sets. 

Dynamic Drive.