found himself outdone in sharpness and cunning by Michel; many a lynx
or wild cat had fought for dear life, and may-be, made _one_
escape from Michel's snares, leaving perhaps one of its paws in token
of its fierce struggle, yet had perished after all, being allured in
some opposite direction by tempting bait, or irresistible scent laid
by the same skilful hand. In bear hunting also Michel was an adept,
and he lacked not opportunity for this sport on the banks of the
Mackenzie. Many a time would he and, perhaps, one other Indian glide
down the river in his swift canoe, and suddenly the keen observant
eyes would detect a bear walking stealthily along by the side of the
stream! In an instant the two men would exchange signals, paddles
would be lifted, and, every movement stilled, the men slowly and
'cannily' would make for shore. In spite of all, however, Bruin has
heard them, he slakes his thirst no longer in the swift-running river
nor feasts luxuriously on the berries growing by the shore. The woods
are close at hand, and with a couple of huge strides he reaches them,
and is making with increasing speed for his lair; but Michel is his
match for stealth and swiftness, and when one sense fails, another is
summoned to his assistance. The eye can no longer see the prey, but
the ear can yet detect here and there a broken twig revealing the
exact track it has taken. With gun carried low, and treading on in
breathless silence and attention, the hunters follow, and soon a shot
is heard, succeeded by another, and then a shout which proclaims poor
Bruin's death. Alas, that gun which has done such good service for
his family, which was purchased by many a month's labour, and
carefully chosen with an Indian's observant eye: what misery and
crime was it not to effect even in that very spot where now the
little group of Indians dwelt happy and peaceful, little dreaming of
the deed of violence which would soon drive them panic-stricken from
their homes!