"Yes," Black Elk replied; "but habit has given the experienced trapper so certain a glance, that he discovers, by the slightest sign, the track of a beaver; and although the hut be concealed by thick underwood and the willows which shade it, it is very seldom that he cannot guess the exact number of its inhabitants. He then places his trap, fastens it to the bank, two or three inches under water, and secures it by a chain to a pole strongly fixed in the mud or sand. A little twig is then deprived of its bark, and soaked in the medicine, for so we call the bait we employ; this twig is so placed as to rise three or four inches above the water, whilst its extremity is fixed in the opening of the trap. The beaver, which is endowed with a very subtle smell, is quickly attracted by the odour of the bait. As soon as it advances its snout to seize it, its foot is caught in the trap. In great terror, it tries to dive into the water, but the chained trap resists all its efforts; it struggles for some time, but at last, its strength being exhausted, it sinks to the bottom of the water, and is drowned. This, señorita, is the way in which beavers are generally taken. But in rocky beds, where it is not possible to fix the poles to retain the trap, we are often obliged to search for a length of time for the captured beavers, and even to swim to great distances. It also happens that when several members of the same family have been taken, the others become mistrustful. Then, whatever stratagems we have recourse to, it is impossible to get them to bite the bait. They approach the traps with precaution, let off the spring with a stick, and often even turn the traps upside down, dragging them under their dam, and burying them in the mud. "What do you do then?" Doña Luz asked. "Why, then," Black Elk replied, "we have but one thing left to do, and that is, throw our traps upon our backs, own ourselves beaten by the beavers, and go further afield to seek others less Cunning. But here is my rancho." At this moment the travellers arrived at a miserable hut, made of interlaced branches of trees, scarcely capable of sheltering them from the rays of the sun, and in every respect resembling, as regarded convenience, those of other trappers of the prairies, who are men that trouble themselves the least about the comforts of life. Nevertheless, such as it was, Black Elk did the honours of it very warmly to the strangers. A second trapper was squatting before the hut, occupied in watching the roasting of the buffalo's hump which Black Elk had promised his guests. This man, whose costume was in all respects like that of Black Elk, was scarcely forty years old; but the fatigue and numberless miseries of his hard profession had dug upon his face such a network of inextricable wrinkles as made him look older than he was in reality.