The first rays of the sun were just tipping the snow on the high mountain peaks when Jack came from the cabin and proceeded to get his breakfast over the camp fire. As Chiquita watched him she was tempted many times to make her presence known, for the savory viands made her "heap hungry," but at last Jack started up the gulch on his rounds to the traps. Chiquita knew that Colorow would put in an early appearance, expecting to find Jack at the cabin, so she waited patiently. It was not long before she heard the plaintive call of a camp bird mewing for something to eat, and she mimicked it, saying to herself, "camp bird and Colorow all same." She carefully screened herself in the willows and saw Colorow suddenly dart from one big tree to another, then creep to a big rock, wait a moment and glide along until he was close to the cabin. He waited some time, evidently reading by the signs of the smoldering fire that the object of his visit had made an early start. Seeing this, he boldly walked out and picked up the coffee pot. As it was empty he threw it spitefully down into the ashes and looked for a piece of bread. Being disappointed in this also he made a big fuss of brandishing his knife, executing a few steps as though he had discovered an enemy and in pantomime had slain and scalped him. During this time he kept up a continual jargon of curses and imprecations. Finally he drew back the blanket which constituted the "door" of the cabin and peered in. Satisfied with his observations, he carefully scanned the trail leading up the gulch, and seeing the fresh made tracks, set out rapidly after Jack. Chiquita followed, darting along from one side of the trail to the other or diverging obliquely across portions of the territory which she knew Jack had to traverse in order to examine the traps, knowing Colorow would ultimately appear. The sun had reached the meridian when she noted the Indian standing under a big tree watching intently something not far distant from him. Pretty soon she saw a thin spiral of white smoke gradually becoming more dense as if from burning damp wood, and occasionally she could hear the crackle of the flames. She knew Jack was busy getting a little lunch. She scented the bacon as he toasted it before the fire and again she felt that ravenous gnawing which now was doubly aggravating. The cooking evidently made Colorow furious, for he vanished into some brush and made noises as of a wolf growling with hunger just as he prepares to tear at a bone. Then the Indian disappeared down the ever handy gulch to watch Jack in his effort to find the wolf. Jack proceeded to investigate, and, with gun ready, he entered the brush, but there were so many signs of wolf tracks, fresh ones, too, that he was at a loss to understand where they could so suddenly have disappeared.