he shall at least learn how they are caught, and all the necessary
minutiæ of toil which he must expect to encounter and undergo.

On striking any river, when on the hunt, the trappers are accustomed
to keep a bright lookout for signs, often heretofore referred to. The
word "signs" conveys but a vague idea of its all-important meaning, as
it was received by the trappers. The news of the presence of "signs"
sent a thrill of joy through the hunters of the olden time only
equalled on board of whale-ships when the man at the lookout cries
"_there she blows_". It rarely happens that this cunning, amphibious
animal can be seen moving free, either on the river banks, or in the
water; for nature has given him no powerful weapons with which to
defend himself when surprised and attacked; but, what is better, she
has endowed him with exceedingly sensitive eyesight and hearing, which
enables him to detect the approach of danger in time to escape. The
marks, however, which he leaves behind are, for a time, ineffaceable.
These were only to be detected and used for his own purposes, by the
superior intellect of man. The unequalled industry of gnawing down
trees and cutting twigs, peeling off the tender cuticle of the willow
bushes, digging away banks, and carrying on their shovel-shaped tails
the earth, together with innumerable foot-prints and sometimes dams,
were the items which filled up the catalogue of "signs" on which the
trappers' vision was regaled after long and dangerous tramps in search
of them. These "signs" were not always found together; but instead,
they each could exist separately and thus would arouse the hunter's
suspicions of the game near by. The little twig, as it floated down
the stream, half denuded of its bark, would go unheeded by the casual
observer, but, to the experienced trapper, it was a prize to be
obtained; for, by its freshness, it indicated to his mind how near
he was to the chance of obtaining and adding another pound or so of