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The Lost Bundle of Furs.
There had been a significant cessation of robbery on their trap line after the inconclusive visit to the enemy's camp.

But a new and extreme exasperation arose in the month of March, when the alternation of thaw and frost had covered the snow with a hard crust that rendered snowshoes unnecessary and made it easy to run anywhere and leave no track.
They had gathered up a fisher and some martens before they reached the beaver pond.

They had no beaver traps now, but it was interesting to call and see how many of the beavers were left, and what they were doing.
Bubbling springs on the bank of the pond had made open water at several places, now that the winter frost was weakening.

Out of these the beavers often came, as was plainly seen in the tracks, so the trappers approached them carefully.
They were scrutinizing one of them from behind a log, Quonab with ready gun, Rolf holding the unwilling Skookum, when the familiar broad, flat head appeared.