He shook his fur, licked his chest and paws in a self-congratulatory way, then giving a final tug at the body, walked calmly over the snow along the shore.
Quonab put the back of his hand to his mouth and made a loud squeaking, much like a rabbit caught in a snare.

The lynx stopped, wheeled, and came trotting straight toward the promising music.

Unsuspectingly he came within twenty yards of the trappers.

The flint-lock banged and the lynx was kicking in the snow.
The beautiful silver fox skin was very little injured and proved of value almost to double their catch so far; while the lynx skin was as good as another marten.
They now had opportunity of studying the tracks and learned that the fox had been hunting rabbits in a thicket when he was set on by the lynx.
At first he had run around in the bushes and saved himself from serious injury, for the snow was partly packed by the rabbits.

After perhaps an hour of this, he had wearied and sought to save himself by abandoning the lynx's territory, so had struck across the open lake.