"Phew," said Rolf.
"That make a trail the marten follow for a month," was the explanation.
Skookum seemed to think so too, and if he did not say "phew," it was because he did not know how.
Very soon the little dog treed a flock of partridge and Rolf with blunt arrows secured three.

The breasts were saved for the hunters' table, but the rest with the offal and feathers made the best of marten baits and served for all the traps, till at noon they reached the beaver pond.
It was covered with ice too thin to bear, but the freshly used landing places were easily selected.

At each they set a strong, steel beaver-trap, concealing it amid some dry grass, and placing in a split stick a foot away a piece of moss in which were a few drops of the magic lure.

The ring on the trap chain was slipped over a long, thin, smooth pole which was driven deep in the mud, the top pointing away from the deep water.

The plan was old and proven.