He sprang ashore, and minutely examined the ground around. A few seconds sufficed. He looked up with a gleam of deep meaning, and said: “Here’s the track of a thunderin’ moccasin. The reds have found us out.” He stepped into the canoe, and taking the paddle moved it carefully back again. He touched at each trap on the way. The footprints of a stranger were visible at each. “Thar’s been a beaver taken out of that one!” he remarked, as the last one was reached. “It’s lucky for the sneakin’ coward that I didn’t see him. He wouldn’t ’sturbed any more gentlemen’s traps.” “Are you sure it is an Indian who has been annoying you?” “Wogh! Don’t you s’pose I could tell a red’s track from a grizzly’s?” “But it might have been a white man--some hunter or trapper?” I suggested. “A white man wouldn’t be mean ’nough to do sich a thing, ’less it war some of those Hudson Bay fellers. They try them tricks sometimes, but they git come up to. I catched a feller once from Fort Hall at mine, and the way I walked into him war a caution; but this ar’ an Injin’s track, sure.” “Do you suspect there could be a number in the vicinity?” “Ef there war, I’d’ve heard of ’em afore. This is some varmint, sneakin’ round yer, and he’s got to be rubbed out afore he makes more trouble.” “I fear that will be a difficult and dangerous job.” “Let me be for that.” Shortly after we reached our home, and running the canoe beneath the bushes, entered it. We were somewhat surprised to find Nat absent. He returned, however, in a short time, and I saw at once by his nervous, flustered manner that something unusual had occurred. Biddon questioned him rather closely, as he suspected something, but Nat evaded his inquiries, and would not admit that he had seen anything to excite alarm or apprehension. “I’m goin’ out, and when I come back I’ll tell you what’s the matter with them traps,” said Biddon, seizing his rifle and departing. I waited until he was beyond hearing, and then turning to my companion, asked, “What is the matter with you, Nat?” “Why?” he asked, in turn, with a start. “Because you show plainly that something has occurred to alarm you.” He remained silent a moment, and then seizing his hat, jerked it off his head, and threw it spitefully down, where he gazed at it a second, and exclaimed, “I’m sick of this.” “Sick of what?” “Why, of being in this fix.” “I don’t understand you. Please explain what you mean.” “I should think you ought to know.” “But I do not.” “Why, this wood is full of Injins; they’re behind every tree and stump, and in every bush, and you can hardly step without pitching over some painted heathen.” “I am afraid you are exaggerating,” I answered, suppressing a smile which was struggling at the corners of my mouth. “No, I ain’t. I swow there are ten thousand Injins just waiting outside to pounce upon us.” “You are talking nonsense, and you know it.”