"When that happens, take your time an' shoot to kill. If
ye don't, Mr. Bear may come up an' hug you to death, jess fer the
fun o' it."
"I am going to set a bear trap," said one of the boys, and told
of the plan, which was approved by Jack Dalton.
Before leaving the next morning the old hunter told them where he
thought they could bring down a mink or two, and after his departure
they set off, to see what luck they might have.
The weather was now getting colder and there was a promise of snow
in the air. Yet about ten o'clock the sun broke through the clouds
and then it grew a bit warmer.
"A little snow will make hunting very fine," declared Snap, as they
trudged along. "As it is now, it is next to impossible to track
any big game."
The spot Jack Dalton had mentioned was nearly two miles from their
camp, along a rocky watercourse flowing into a small lake between
Lake Cameron and Firefly Lake. Here, among the rocks, was a favorite
haunt of the mountain brook mink, as they are popularly called.
As they neared the locality, the young hunters looked to their
weapons and then advanced with caution.
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