warriors attacked one Sagamore. They were very brave, but he was
Nibowaka and very strong; he struck them down as the Thunderbird,
Hurakan, strikes the dead pines the fire has left on the hilltop
against the sky. Now shall you eat their hearts, for they were
brave. My father told me a fighting muskrat's heart is great
medicine; for he seeks peace while it is possible, then he turns
and fights without fear."

A few days later, they sighted a fox. In order to have a joke on
Skookum, they put him on its track, and away he went, letting off
his joy-whoops at every jump. The men sat down to wait, knowing
full well that after an hour Skookum would come back with a long
tongue and an air of depression. But they were favoured with an
unexpected view of the chase. It showed a fox bounding over the
snow, and not twenty yards behind was their energetic four-legged
colleague.

And, still more unexpected, the fox was overtaken in the next
thicket, shaken to limpness, and dragged to be dropped at
Quonab's feet. This glorious victory by Skookum was less
surprising, when a closer examination showed that the fox had
been in a bad way. Through some sad, sudden indiscretion, he had
tackled a porcupine and paid the penalty. His mouth, jaws and
face, neck and legs, were bristling with quills. He was sick and
emaciated. He could not have lasted many days longer, and
Skookum's summary lynching was a blessing in disguise.

The trappers' usual routine was varied by a more important
happening. One day of deep snow in January, when they were
running the northern line on Racquet River, they camped for the