.

Back to the Cabin.
The far end of the long swamp the stream emerged, now much larger, and the trappers kept on with their work.

When night fell they had completed fifty traps, all told, and again they camped without shelter overhead.
Next day Skookum was so much worse that they began to fear for his life.
He had eaten nothing since the sad encounter.

He could drink a little, so Rolf made a pot of soup, and when it was cool the poor doggie managed to swallow some of the liquid after half an hour's patient endeavour.
They were now on the home line; from a hill top they got a distant view of their lake, though it was at least five miles away.

Down the creek they went, still making their deadfalls at likely places and still seeing game tracks at the muddy spots.