And the man in forest-green whipcord, well, he _could_ have been just an hallucination. Ed did not really believe in hallucinations, but he had heard about them, and there was always a first time. Ed sighed, looked at the clock, measured the bottle with his eye--still better than three quarters full. All in all, he guessed, he'd leave the door into the other world open. He put old Tom out and went to bed. * * * * * The first order of business seemed to be to get better acquainted with the Harn, and first thing in the morning he set about it. He took the rabbit out of the live box and tethered it in a spot in the other world close to the hole, where raw earth had been exposed by a big blowdown, sweeping the ground afterward to clear it of tracks. Getting better acquainted with the Harn, though, did not mean he had to have it come in and crawl in bed with him. Before going to bed the night before, he had set half a can of snuff to steep in some water. He loaded a bug gun with this and sprayed the ground around the hole into the other world. From the reaction yesterday, he judged the stinging units did not like tobacco juice, and this should discourage them from coming through. He checked his bear snares and found three in good enough shape to satisfy him--the large Harn beast, he suspected, would be about like a grizzly to hold. Three would hardly be enough for a serious trapping program. Ed made his own snares from old aircraft control cable, using a lock of his own devising which slid smoothly and cinched down tight and permanently. He got out his roll of wire and box of locks and started making up some more, sitting where he could watch the rabbit he had staked out. By the middle of the afternoon the snares were done, but there had been no action with the rabbit, nor was there for the rest of the day. In the morning, though, it was gone. There were three new sets of tracks in the bare spot--two smaller ones, either of which would have fitted the stinging unit, and what looked like a carrier's. The action was clear enough. The small things had prowled around the rabbit for some time, stopping frequently as if uncertain and suspicious. Finally, one had moved in, with a little flurry of action when it met the rabbit. Then it had moved back and squatted again. The big tracks came directly to the rabbit and went right out again. They were heavy enough to be clear in the grass beyond the bare spot. * * * * * Ed went back to the cabin and rummaged till he found a pair of snakeproof pants a Stateside sport had once given him--heavy duck with an interlining of woven wire. They were heavy and uncomfortable to wear, and about as useless as wings on a pig in Alaska, where there are no snakes; but they had been brand-new and expensive when given to him, and he had put them away, thinking vaguely he might find a use for them some day. It looked like that day might be now.