this cowardly business lies on your shoulders! But it is no more than
your daily calling, I reckon, to take men, as well as beasts, in
snares."

"I implore you, Paul, to be calm--to be patient."

"Well, since it is your wish, Ellen," returned the youth, endeavouring
to swallow his spleen, "I will make the trial; though, as you ought to
know, it is part of the religion of a Kentuckian to fret himself a
little at a mischance."

"I fear your friends in the other bottom will not escape the eyes of
the imps!" continued the trapper, as coolly as though he had not heard
a syllable of the intervening discourse. "They scent plunder; and it
would be as hard to drive a hound from his game, as to throw the
varmints from its trail."

"Is there nothing to be done?" asked Ellen, in an imploring manner,
which proved the sincerity of her concern.

"It would be an easy matter to call out, in so loud a voice as to make
old Ishmael dream that the wolves were among his flock," Paul replied;
"I can make myself heard a mile in these open fields, and his camp is
but a short quarter from us."

"And get knocked on the head for your pains," returned the trapper.
"No, no; cunning must match cunning, or the hounds will murder the
whole family."

"Murder! no--no murder. Ishmael loves travel so well, there would be