Page:Hunting and trapping stories; a book for boys (IA huntingtrappings00pric).pdf/107

 The opportunity of killing two birds with one stone does not often come into a hunter's life. Here is an account of rather a rare case.

A trapper in the far north-west had been much troubled by a wolverine, or glutton, stealing the game from his traps. He well knew that without some great good luck it would be next to impossible to kill the beast; for the glutton is the cleverest animal in the two Americas.

The hunter's first impulse was to take up his traps and move to another part of the country. He knew that to set poison for the animal was useless, for it would never touch it; and if he used a spring gun it would dig underneath, fire it off, and steal the bait; and to lie in wait for it with a rifle was also useless for the beast would smell him half a mile away.

One morning when matters were nearly desperate he saw a glutton moving swiftly across the snow. Without any idea of catching it he followed the tracks. From the footprints he knew that it was not in a hurry. Following the trail he soon came across one of his own beaver traps sprung, and the snow round about all blood stained. The paws of the beaver were still held by the steel teeth of the trap, while the body lay mangled and useless on one side. From that he knew that the glutton was only mischievous and not hungry. Farther on the foot-prints stopped short as if the animal had paused; then they started again going at a right angle. In a few minutes be heard sounds of a great battle raging not far off. Hastening along swiftly, but cautiously in the direction of the noise he came upon a sight that filled him with astonishment. A large fox was caught by the forepaw in one of his traps. A glutton was making a great effort to kill the fox, who in its turn was making a desperate fight for its life. This time the glutton seemed to have lost its reason for it was leaping around the fox trying to get at its throat, but the latter kept it off, snapping fiercely. The hunter saw his chance and lying flat on the ground, raised his rifle, took aim and fired. The glutton sprang up with a snarl and ran off but its footprints were full of blood and this gave the hunter hope. Less than a off he found the beast crouched at bay on the lower limb of a fir tree. In spite of the drip, drip of its life blood on the snow it was full of fight, and its eyes and teeth gleamed wickedly. One more shot was enough, and with a spasmodic cough the beast dropped head foremost from its perch. The skin measured nearly five feet in length, though skins always stretch when removed from the body; still it was a very large glutton.