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Show ISON OF KAZAN JStfM JAMES OLIVER WNU Brvlc Chapter XIV Continued 23 The man's hatred was different from the beast's, but perhaps even more Implacable. Im-placable. With McTaggart It was not hatred alone. There was mixed with It an Indefinable and superstitious fear, a thing he laughed at, a thing he cursed at, but which clung to him as surely as the scent of his trail clung to Baree's nose. Baree no longer stood for the animal alone ; he stood for Nepeese. That was the thought that Insisted In growing in McTaggart's ugly mind. He had not ceased to hate Baree ; he still hated him as he had never hated a man, but he had an even greater reason now for wanting to kill him. It came to htm first In his sleep, In a restless dream, and after that It lived, aud lived the thought that the spirit of Nepeese was guiding Baree In the ravaging rav-aging of his trap-line! It was in January that McTaggart caught his first glimpse of Baree. lie had placed his rifle against a tree, and was a dozen feet away from It at the time. It was as If Baree knew, and had come to taunt him; for when the Factor suddenly looked up Baree was standing out clear from the dwarf spruce not twenty yards away from him, his white fangs gleaming and his eyes burning like coals. For a space McTaggart stared- as If turned Into stone. It was Baree. He recognized rec-ognized the white star, the white-tipped white-tipped ear, and his heart thumped like a hammer in his breast. Very slowly he began to creep toward his rifle. His hand was reaching for It when like a flash Baree was gone. This gave McTaggart his new idea. He blazed himself a fresh trail through the forests parallel with his trap-line but at least five hundred yards distant from It. Wherever a trap or deadfall was set this new trail struck sharply In, like the point of a V, so that lie could approach his line unobserved. By this strategy he believed that in time he was sure of getting a shot at the dog. Again it was the man who was reasoning, and again it was the man who was defeated. The first day that McTaggart followed his new trail Baree also struck that trail. For a little lit-tle while It puzzled him. Three times he cut back and forth between the old and the new trail. Then there was no doubt. The new trail was the fresh trail, and he followed in the ' footsteps foot-steps of the Factor from Lac Bain. McTaggart did not know what was happening until his return trip, when he . saw the story told in the snow. Baree had visited each trap, and without with-out exception he had approached each time at the point of the inverted V. After a week of futile hunting, of lying In wait, of approaching at every point of the wind a period during which McTaggart had twenty times cursed himself into fits of madness, another idea came to him. It was like an Inspiration, and so simple that it seemed almost inconceivable that he had not thought of It before. He hurried back to Post Lac Bain. The second day after he was on the trail at dawn- This time he carried a pack In which, there were a dozen strong wolf traps freshly dipped in beaver oil, and-a rabbit which he had snared the previous night. Now and then. he looked anxiously at the sky. It was clear until late in the afternoon, after-noon, when banks of dark clouds began be-gan rolling up from the east. Half an hour later a few flakes of snow began falling. McTaggart let . one of those drop on the back of his mit-tened mit-tened hand, and examined it closely. It was soft and downy, aud he gave vent to his satisfaction. It was what he wanted. Before morning there would be six inches of freshly fallen snow covering the trails. He stopped at the next trap-house and quickly set to work. First he threw away the poisoned bait In the "house" and replaced It with the rabbit. rab-bit. Then he began setting his wolf traps. Three of these he placed close to the "door" of the house, through which Baree would have to reach for the bait. The remaining ulne he scattered at Intervals of a foot or sixteen inches apart, so that when be was done a veritable cordon of traps guarded the house. He did not fasten the chains, but let them lay loose In the snow. If Baree gut into one trap he would get into others and there would be no use of toggles. His work done, McTaggart hurried on through the thickening twiiigiit of winter night to his shack. He was highly elated. This time there could be no such tiling as Rilure. He had sprung every trap on his way from Lac Bain. In none of those traps would Baree find anything to eat until he came to the "nest'' of twelve wolf traps. feven inohe of snow fell that night, Sad the whole world seemed turned ato a wonderful white rube. Like billow "f IV..". hers the snow hung to the trees and shrubs; It gave tall white caps to the rocks, and underfoot under-foot It was so light that a cartridge dropped from the hand sank to the bottom of It. Baree was on the trap-line trap-line early. He was more cautious this morning, for there was no longer the scent or snowshoe track of McTaggart to guide him. He struck the first trap about halfway between Lac Bain and the shack In which the Factor was waiting. It was sprung, and there was no bait. Trap after trap he visited, and all of them he found sprung, and Rll without bait. He sniffed the air suspiciously, striving vainly to catch the tang of smoke, a whiff of the man-smell. Along toward noon he came to the "nest" the twelve treacherous traps waiting for him with gaping Jaws half a foot under un-der the blanket of snow. For a full minute he stood well outside the danger line, sniffing the air, and listening. listen-ing. He saw the rabbit, and his Jaws closed with a hungry click. He moved a step nearer. Still he was suspicious for some strange and Inexplicable reason he sensed danger. Anxiously he sought for It with his nose, his eyes, and his ears. And all about him there was a great silence and a great peace. His Jaws clicked again. He whined softly. What was it stirring stir-ring him? Where was the danger he could neither see nor smell? Slowly he circled about the trap-house; three times he circled round it, each circle drawing him a little nearer until at last his feet almost touched the outer cordon of traps. Another minute he stood still; his ears flattened; In spite of the rich aroma of the rabbit In his nostrils something was drawing him away. In another moment he would have gone, but there came suddenly and from directly behind the trap-houser trap-houser a fierce little rat-like squeak, and the next instant Baree saw an ermine whiter than the snow tearing hungrily at the flesh of the rabbit. He forgot his strange premonition of danger. He growled fiercely, but his plucky little rival did not budge from his feast. And then he sprang straight Into the "nest" that Bush McTaggart had made for him. The next morning Bush McTaggart heard the clanking of a chain when he was still a good quarter of a mile from the "nest." Was It a lynx? Was It a fisher-cat? Was It a wolf or a fox? Or was it Baree? He half ran the rest of the distance, and at last he came to where he could see, and his heart leaped into his throat when he saw that he had caught his enemy. He approached, holding Is rifle ready to fire if by any chance the dog should free himself. Baree lay on his side, panting from exhaustion and quivering with pain. A hoarse cry of exultation burst from McTaggart's lips as he drew nearer j and looked at the snow. It was packed hard for many feet about the ' trap-house, where Baree had struggled, and it wag red with blood. The blood had come mostly from Baree's jaws. They were dripping now as he glared at his enemy. The steel jaws hidden under the snow had done their merciless mer-ciless work well. One of his forefeet was caught well up toward Uie first joint ; both hind feet were caught ; a fourth trap had closed on his flank, and. In tearing the jaws loose he had pulled off a patch of skin half as big as McTaggart's hand. The snow told the story of his desperate fight all through the night ; his bleeding jaws showed how vainly he had tried to break the imprisoning steel with his teeth. He was panting. His eyes were bloodshot. But even now, after all his hours of agony, neither his spirit nor his courage were broken. When he saw McTaggart he made a lunge to his feet, almost instantly crumpling crum-pling down into the snow again. But his forefeet were braced. His head and chest remained up, and the snarl that came from his throat was tigerish tiger-ish In Its ferocity. Here, at last not more than a dozen feet from him was the one thing in all the world that he hated more than he hated the wolf breed. And again he was helpless, as he had been helpless that other time In the rabbit snare. The fierceness of his snarl did not disturb Bush McTaggart now. He saw how utterly the other was at his mercy, and with an exultant laugh he leaned his rille against a tree, pulled' off his mittens, and began loading his pipe. This was the triumph lie had looked forward to, the torture he had waited for. In his soul there was a hatred as deadly as Baree's, the hatred that a man might have for a man. He had expected to send a bullet through the dog. But this was better to watch him dying by Inches, to taunt him as he would have taunted a human, to walk about him so that he could hear the clunk of the traps una see the fresh blood drip as Baree twisted his tortured legs and body to keep facing him. It was a splendid vengeance. He waa bo engrossed U It that he did not hear the approach of snowshoes behind htm. It wis a vole a man's voice that turned him round suddenly. The man was a stranger, and he was younger than McTaggart by ten years. At least he looked no more than thirty-five or six, even with the short growth of blonde beard he wore. He was of that sort that the average man would like at a glance; boyish, and yet a man; with clear eyes that looked out frankly from under the rim of his fur cap, a form lithe as an Indian's, and a face altogether that did not bear the hard lines of the wilderness. Tet McTaggart knew before be-fore he had spoken that this man was of the wilderness, that he was heart and soul a part of It. His cap was nf fisher-skin. He wore a windproof coat of softly tanned caribou skin, belted at the waist with a long sash, and Indian fringed. The Inside of the) coat was furred. He was traveling on the long, slender bush-country snow-shoe snow-shoe ; his pack, strapped over the shoulders, was small and compact; he wes carrying his rifle In a cloth Jacket And from cap to snowshoes he was travel-worn. McTaggart, at a guess, would have said that he had traveled a thousand miles In the last few weeks. It was not this thought that sent the strange and chilling thrill up his back ; but the sudden fear that In some strange way a whisper of the truth might have found its way down Into the south the truth of what had happened on the Gray Loon and that this travel-worn stranger wore under his carlbou-skln coat the badge of the Royal Northwest Mounted Mount-ed Police. For that Instant it was almost a terror that possessed him, and he stood mute. The stranger had uttered only an amazed exclamation before. Now he said, with his eyes on Baree: "God save us, but you've got the poor devil In a right proper mess, haven't you?" There was something in the voice that reassured McTaggart. It was not a suspicious voice, and he saw that the stranger was more interested in the captured animal than In himself. He drew a deep breath. "A trap robber," he said. The stranger was staring still more closely at Baree. He thrust his gun stock downward In the snow and drew nearer to him. "God save us again a dog I" he exclaimed. ex-claimed. From behind, McTaggart was watching watch-ing the man with the eyes of a ferret. "Yes, a dog," he answered. "A wild dog, half wolf at least. He's robbed me of a thousand, dollars' worth of fur this winter." The stranger squatted himself before be-fore Baree, with his mittened hands resting on his knees, and his white teeth gleaming in a half smile. "You poor devil I" he said sympathetically. sympa-thetically. "So you're a trap robber, eh? An outlaw? And the Police have got you ! And God save us once more they haven't played you a very square game !" He rose and faced McTaggart. "I had to set a lot of traps like that," the Factor apologized, his face reddening slightly under the 'Steady gaze of the stranger's blue eyes. Suddenly Sud-denly his animus rose. "And he's going go-ing to die there, inch by inch. I'm going to let him starve, and rot in the traps, to pay for all he's done." He picked up his gun, and added, with his eyes on the stranger and his finger ready at the trigger, "I'm Bush McTaggart, Mc-Taggart, the Factor at Lac Bain. Are you bound that way, m'sleu?" "A few miles. I'm bound up-country beyond the Barrens." McTaggart felt again the strange thrill. "Government?" he asked. The stranger nodded. "The Police, perhaps," persisted McTaggart. "Why, yes of course the Police," said the stranger, looking straight Into the Factor's eyes. "And now, m'sieu, as a very great courtesy to the Law I'm going to ask you to send a bullet through that beast's head before we go on. Or shall I?" "It's the law of the line," said McTaggart, Mc-Taggart, "to let a trap robber rot In the traps. And that beast was a devil. Listen " Swiftly, and yet leaving out none of the fine detail, he told of the weeks and months of strife between himself and Baree; of the maddening futility of all Ills tricks and schemes and the still more maddening cleverness of the beast he had at last succeeded in trapping. "He was a devil that clever," he cried fiercely when he had finished. "And now would you shoot him, or let him lie there and die by Inches, as the devil should?" (TO BE CONTINUED.) |