Evening down on The Labrador begins directly after twelve o’clock, noon, and therefore by Labrador reckoning it was already evening.  It was Skipper Zeb’s intention that the boys set out immediately, and he emphasized this by bidding them: 

“Bide a bit whilst I find some proper twine.  The old twine you has last year Toby, lad, were not strong enough to hold rabbits when you catches un.”

“’Twere wonderful poor twine,” agreed Toby, “and I loses half the rabbits, whatever, that gets in the snares.”

Skipper Zeb began rummaging in one of the storage chests, and presently produced a ball of heavy, smooth, closely wound twine.

“There’s the best twine now I ever gets for snares,” he declared with some pride, handing it to Toby.  “The rabbits’ll not be breakin’ that twine, whatever.  ’Tis stout as a small cable.  I gets un in July month from Skipper Mudge o’ the schooner Lucky Hand.  I asks he last fall when he goes home from the fishin’ to get un for me in St. John’s.  That’s string, now, that is!  ’Twill hold the biggest rabbit on the Labrador.”

“Are rabbits so strong?” asked Charley.

“Strong enough to break string that’s not stout enough to hold un,” laughed Skipper Zeb, explaining good-naturedly:  “She has to be rare stout to hold some of un.  The string Toby has last year were rotten, ‘twere so old, and he loses a rare lot o’ rabbits that gets in the snares with un breakin’ the twine, so I gets new string for this year.”

“That’ll hold un!  ’Tis fine twine,” agreed Toby, testing it.  “Come on, Charley!  We’ll set a rare lot o’ snares this evenin’, and have rabbit for dinner to-morrow.”

The boys hurried into their adikeys, and Toby carrying his rifle, and Charley a light ax, which Toby selected from three or four in the shed, the two set out.

“We can’t set snares too handy to the house,” advised Toby, turning into the forest behind the cabin, with Charley following.  “The dogs would find un too handy, when we gets the team home from Skipper Tom’s.”

A thick bramble of dwarf willows and mooseberry bushes lined the shore between the water of the bay and the spruce forest, and to avoid this Toby laid his course through the forest behind the tangle.  Charley, thrilled with a sense of adventure, followed Toby eagerly as he led the way for some time in silence.  This was Charley’s first trapping expedition in a real wilderness!  He wondered whether there were wolves or other wild animals lurking among the shadows, and he was glad that Toby had his rifle.

Suddenly Toby stopped.  The white surface of the snow was covered with a thick network of tracks, among the forest trees and back among the bramble.

“They’s plenty o’ rabbits here,” and Toby pointed to the tracks.  “I never sees so much rabbit footin’.  I’m thinkin’ ’tis far enough so the dogs’ll not be findin’ the snares, and we’ll start to set un here.”

“Are these all rabbit tracks?” asked Charley in amazement.  “There must be thousands of them!”

“Aye, there’s a rare fine band of un about,” agreed Toby with an appraising glance.  “Here’s a fine run, now!  We’ll be settin’ the first snare on this run.”

Toby pointed to a beaten path or runway, indicating that rabbits had passed back and forth over it many times.

He proceeded at once to cut a spruce sapling.  From the middle of one side of this he trimmed off the branches with his ax, leaving the thick branches on both ends and on the other side.  He then laid the sapling across the runway where the runway passed between two trees, placing it in such manner that the branches on each end of the sapling supported it about eighteen inches above the snow, and the trimmed section of the sapling left an opening for the runway.

On each side of the runway he now placed an upright stick, and between the sticks and the trees on each side made a thick network of branches, that only the gateway between the sticks, with the sapling above, would be open for the passage of rabbits, and there would be no temptation to pass around or to jump over the obstruction of branches on the upper side of the sapling.

This done, he made a slipnoose on one end of a piece of twine.  The other end of the twine he tied to the sapling directly over the runway, and spreading the noose around the gateway through the barricade, stood up and surveyed his work.

“There she is, all ready for un to come along and get caught,” he said with pride.

“Don’t you bait it with anything?” asked Charley, who had watched the making of the snare with much interest.

“No, we don’t bait un,” explained Toby. “’Tis a runway where rabbits goes, and they’ll go right through un without bait, and get caught.”

“Rabbits must be chumps to walk right into a contraption like that without any reason, when they’ve miles of space to go around,” Charley declared.

“They’re wonderful foolish creatures,” said Toby.  “They never seems to know enough to go around.”

Darkness comes early at this season in that northern latitude, and when the boys had set six snares they suddenly became aware that it was nearly sunset.  They must set out on their return to the cabin without delay.

“This is the life!” exclaimed Charley, as they turned back.  “Seems to me an afternoon never flew so fast!”

“When I’m busy workin’ I finds the time does go wonderful fast,” agreed Toby.  “Havin’ you along it went a wonderful lot faster’n when I’m alone, too.  ’Tis fine to have you here, Charley!”

“I’m having a great time, too!  It’s a peck of fun getting off here in the woods away from everything, and setting snares.”

“Aye, ’tis that.”

“When shall we know whether we have caught anything?”

“We’ll come and look at un first thing in the marnin’.”

“I can’t wait to see!”

“‘Twill be more fun when we sets marten and fox traps.  I’m goin’ to ask Dad to let us have some traps, and we can trap together, and I’m not doubtin’ we’ll be gettin’ some fur.  We’ll be partners.”

“That’ll be great!  When can we start setting them?”

“When we comes back from goin’ with Dad to his path.”

“Where are we going now?  We’re not going the way we came.”

“I’m takin’ a short way through the timber.  We may see some pa’tridges.”

They walked for a few minutes in silence, when Toby, who was in the lead, suddenly stopped, and examined the snow at his feet.

“What is it?” asked Charley in excitement, as Toby pointed to some large tracks in the snow.

Toby, looking in the direction in which the tracks led, said nothing for a moment.  They were large tracks-nearly large enough for those of a bear, and the steps taken by the animal that made them were short steps.

“What tracks are they?” Charley repeated, with bated breath.  “Are they wolf tracks or bear tracks?”

“They looks something like bear tracks, but ’tis not a bear made un,” answered Toby. “’Tis not heavy enough for a bear, and bear tracks has nail marks.  This un has no nail marks.  A bear steps longer, too.  ’Tis the track of a lynx, I’m thinkin’.”

“Is a lynx dangerous?” asked Charley, a strange tingle chasing up and down his spine.

“They’re not like to be unless they gets cornered,” said Toby.  “Anything fights when ’tis cornered.  Even a fox would do that.  This track is fresh.  ‘Twere just made.  I’m thinkin’ the lynx is handy by, and we might get a shot at un.  He’s around huntin’ rabbits.  Let’s follow he.”

“All right, I’m for it!” agreed Charley, quite excited at the prospect of a lynx hunt.

The two boys set forward in silence, following the well defined trail left by the animal.  They had gone but a short distance when Toby stopped and pointed at a red-stained and trampled place in the snow, with some bits of fur lying about.

“He kills a rabbit here,” whispered Toby.  “See how fresh ’tis.  That stick is fresh wet with the rabbit’s blood.  ’Tis sure a lynx.  ’Tis the only beast makin’ that big track that kills rabbits.  I knows now ’tis a lynx.”

“It must be very near!” whispered Charley, his heart beating fast.

“We’re like to see he any minute,” agreed Toby.  “He’s right handy.  We’ll have to be keepin’ wonderful quiet now.”

“Will he run when he sees us?” asked Charley anxiously.

“He’s not like to run at first.  ’Tis the way of the lynx to stop and look before he goes, but ’twould be easy to lose sight of he and lose a shot here in the timber.”

Never was Charley more excited.  They continued on the trail with increased caution.  In every dark shadow Charley fancied he saw the figure of a crouching beast about to spring upon them.  He knew that a lynx was a big cat, and he could not but wonder if, in spite of Toby’s assurance, it would not attack them from ambush.  He had seen fierce panthers in the zoo at home, and with every step the lynx grew in his imagination to the proportions of the panther.

He recalled a story he had read of an attack a lynx had made upon a hunter, and the more he thought of it the surer he was that at any moment he would feel the lynx upon his back clawing and tearing at his throat.  Afraid, wild eyed, and peering into every shadowy recess as they advanced, he still had no thought of deserting Toby.  Come what might, he was determined to see the adventure through.  In this he was heroic.  One who faces danger without fear or appreciation of the danger displays no bravery.  But he who faces danger, drawn on by duty as Charley felt it his duty now to stick by the side of Toby, believing himself in great peril, but still not flinching, is truly brave.

The sun had dropped behind the western hills, and the first hint of twilight was settling among the trees, when Toby without warning halted and froze where he stood.  Then it was that Charley saw in the shadows ahead two eyes glowing like balls of fire and the outlines of a great crouching creature.