blazed their trails as far inland as it was safe for them to go. Any
hunter encroaching upon the Nascaupee territory, they insisted, would
surely be slaughtered.

Bob had often heard this warning, and did not forget it now; but in
spite of it he felt that circumstances demanded risks, and for Emily's
sake he was willing to take them. If he could only get traps, _he_
would make the venture, with his parents' consent, and blaze a new
trail there, for it would be sure to yield a rich reward. But to get
traps needed money or credit, and he had neither.

Then he remembered that Douglas Campbell had said one day that he
would not go to the hills again if he could get a hunter to take the
Big Hill trail to hunt on shares. That was an inspiration. He would
ask Douglas to let him hunt it on the usual basis--two-thirds of the
fur caught to belong to the hunter and one-third to the owner. With
this thought Bob's spirits rose.

"'Twill be fine--'twill be a grand chance," said he to himself, "an
Douglas lets me hunt un, an father lets me go."

He decided to speak to Douglas first, for if Douglas was agreeable to
the plan his parents would give their consent more readily. Otherwise
they might withhold it, for the trail was dangerously close to the
forbidden grounds of the Nascaupees, and anyway it was a risky
undertaking for a boy--one that many of the experienced trappers would
shrink from.

The more Bob considered his plan with all its great possibilities, the
more eager he became. He found himself calculating the number of pelts