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Catching a Fox.
"As to wisdom, a man ain't a spring; he's a tank, an' gives out only what he gathers"-- Sayings of Si Sylvanne Quonab would not quit his nightly couch in the canvas lodge so Rolf and Skookum stayed with him.

The dog was himself again, and more than once in the hours of gloom dashed forth in noisy chase of something which morning study of the tracks showed to have been foxes.

They were attracted partly by the carrion of the deer, partly by the general suitability of the sandy beach for a gambolling place, and partly by a foxy curiosity concerning the cabin, the hunters, and their dog.
One morning after several night arousings and many raids by Skookum, Rolf said: "Fox is good now; why shouldn't I add some fox pelts to that ?" and he pointed with some pride to the marten skin.
"Ugh, good; go ahead; you will learn," was the reply.
So getting out the two fox traps Rolf set to work.

Noting where chiefly the foxes ran or played he chose two beaten pathways and hid the traps carefully, exactly as he did for the marten; then selecting a couple of small cedar branches he cut these and laid them across the path, one on each side of the trap, assuming that the foxes following the usual route would leap over the boughs and land in disaster.