he had cautiously scratched around it until he had disclosed the trap,
the chain, and the log, then left them wholly exposed to view with the
trap still unsprung, and passing on he treated over a dozen traps in the
same fashion. Very soon I noticed that he stopped and turned aside as
soon as he detected suspicious signs on the trail, and a new plan to
outwit him at once suggested itself. I set the traps in the form of an
H; that is, with a row of traps on each side of the trail, and one on
the trail for the cross-bar of the H. Before long, I had an opportunity
to count another failure. Lobo came trotting along the trail, and was
fairly between the parallel lines before he detected the single trap in
the trail, but he stopped in time, and why and how he knew enough I
cannot tell; the Angel of the wild things must have been with him, but
without turning an inch to the right or left, he slowly and cautiously
backed on his own tracks, putting each paw exactly in its old track
until he was off the dangerous ground. Then returning at one side he
scratched clods and stones with his hind feet till he had sprung every
trap. This he did on many other occasions, and although I varied my
methods and redoubled my precautions, he was never deceived, his
sagacity seemed never at fault, and he might have been pursuing his
career of rapine to-day, but for an unfortunate alliance that proved his
ruin and added his name to the long list of heroes who, unassailable
when alone, have fallen through the indiscretion of a trusted ally.

[Illustration: Lobo and Blanca.]




III