he wished to use on the first day.

How he seemed to handle certain ones fondly, as though they carried with
them memories of stirring events in the dim past.

They all looked pretty much alike to the boys, but Jim undoubtedly had
certain little familiar marks by means of which he recognized each
individual trap. He mentioned some of their peculiar histories as he
picked out his "lucky" traps.

"This one held two mink at a pop twice now, something I never knew to
happen before," he remarked.

"And this old rusty one was lost a whole season. When I happened to find
it, there was a piece of bone and some fur between the jaws, showing that
the poor little critter had gnawed off its own foot rather than die of
starvation. Made me fell bad, that did. A good trapper seldom allows such
a thing to happen."

"Do mink really set themselves free that way?" asked Owen.

"They will, if given half a chance," was Jim's reply. "That's one reason
we always try to fix it so that mink, otter, muskrats, fisher, and all
animals that are trapped along the edge of streams manage to drown
themselves soon after they are caught. It saves the pelt from being
injured, too, by their crazy efforts to break away."

"And what of that trap over there? You seem to be taking mighty good care
of it," said Max, who was deeply interested in everything the trapper was
doing.