To attempt to approach within reach of the lynx would, I felt, be useless, and I knew he was far too sagacious to be caught in my traps. I decided to match my own skill and cunning against his and to bring him to his death through his own persistence in following me.
Carefully stepping in my former tracks I continued on for some distance and then, turning about, retraced my steps, still stepping in the marks already made by my snow-shoes. Presently I came to a spot where a low limb projected above the tracks and, grasping this, I drew myself up, untied the snow-shoes from my feet, and very carefully worked my way along the branch to the trunk of the tree. It was leafless and bare and afforded no shelter, and I knew that the lynx would see me long before I saw him and so, dropping to the snow on the farther side of the trunk, I made my way to a near-by evergreen and, climbing up, concealed myself among its thick branches.
With an arrow fitted to my bow I waited, peering forth through the aisles of the forest in the direction whence I had come.
The time passed slowly. A great, scarlet-crested, pileated woodpecker flitted to a neighboring tree and the forest echoed to the resounding blows of his powerful beak. A flock of redpolls twittered among the branches above my head, and crossbills clambered, parrot-like, among the drooping cones, shearing off the scales with their scissors-like beaks in their search for pine seeds. A gray Canada jay alighted upon one of my snow-shoes and pecked at the dry bear’s hide, eying me saucily meanwhile. From a treetop a squirrel chattered, and from all about came the plaintive calls of chickadees. The forest was full of busy life, each tiny creature busily gleaning its livelihood and all unmindful of my presence.
Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed, and then at last I saw him. Slouching along in a loose-jointed stride, the lynx skulked on after me in the distance, keeping as much as possible behind trees and fallen branches, sniffing at my footprints and ever and anon stopping to peer about, while turning his head first this way, then that, as if to smell the air for a suspicious scent. Presently he reached the spot where my two trails met and instantly the creature became all alert. For a few steps he trotted back upon the old trail and then, turning, came back and went along the new trail for a few feet. Evidently he was somewhat puzzled, for his every action betrayed the fact. Then curiosity gave place to suspicion, and with a single lithe bound he leaped into a tree and, crouching close to the trunk, peered about as if striving to catch sight of me. But he could see nothing that resembled the being he was hunting and, reassured, he sprang down and, after a moment’s hesitation, came trotting toward my hiding-place.