The log cabin Democrat., 1922-04-15
The Snow Madness
By AUTIN FLEET

' grasp of his unsuspected enemy. At first Jean throttled him as if his only desire was to kill but, as Pierre i fell insensible upon the bunk, he re leased him and stood looking at him uncertainty.
 It was the climax of the season that they had spent together. Both were trappers, and they had amassed rich store of furs, including two of the silver fox, which meant comparative affluence for them. But Jean enyied Pierre
 He enyied him his own share of the furs, and he envied him Marie Batiste, who had enthusiastically indicated her preference for Pierre. So they were to be married that spring at Fort Auguste, when Pierre returned.
 There should be no returning for Pierre. Jean had resolved to kill his erstwhile friend, and return with trumped-up story of some kind or other. No one would ever know.
 Of late Pierre had seemed to sus- pect Jean, and he had always slept with his revolver handy. But that morning Jean had outmaneuvered him.
 Jean watched Pierre uncertainty. It would be an easy thing to shoot him while he was unconscious. But some thing in him rebelled against this mur- der of an unconscious man. And, in the end, he secured a length of rope and tied Pierre securely to his bunk.
 Lie there and starve," he sneered. None will pass this way, and I'll be back next year and set you free"
 If Pierre heard, he only groaned in answer. Jean looked at him a little longer hurled curse at him. and loaded his pack with all the furs in- cluding Pierre's. Then, with wave of the hand, he was off and snow Shoeing across thte wastes in the di- rection of Fort Auguste.
 At first he stepped lightly enough, but gradually the recollection of his deed began to burn in him. It had been largely spontaneous though he had had some such idea in mind for weeks as, in the solitude, the memory of Marie Batiste's face grew stronger
 It was Marie, rather than the furs, that drove him on again. But he walked more and more slowly; and at last he stopped.
 He stopped under a dwarf willow, where his line of traps began. He could not go on. He was glad that he had not killed Pierre. And he u-nul6 hoUo ha know what to say to Pierre.
 But he must return. Something within him would not let him go step further. It was odd how that in- visible something seemed to cling to his legs when he tried to walk. It impeding him.
 At last, with groan, he yielded He would go back to Pierre and set him free, fling him his half of the furs, and take himself away forever
 He turned toward the cabin. He pushed his foot forward. Something under the snow caught the shoe. snap He was fast
 At first, just for an instant, he did not know what it was that had pulled him to his knees. Then, with an aw full fear, he realized that he was fast In one of his own traps. And he tugged in vain; he could not budge the strong steel implement beneath the frozen snow.
 It was a wolverine trap, one of the hoauinSt D1aHp and IpSiUnnd tn hold the captive mOtionless,
 It was impossible to get at it, be- cause he was in such a position that 1t was difficult even to kneel. The muscles of his back seemed bursting as he vainly endeayored to get himself into d position from which he might pry away the frozen snow and tug at the steel beneath.
 And, as he realized his doom, a hoarse cry of despair broke from his lips-another and another.
 The sun rose high. Still Jean fought like d nadman, always in vain And at last he abandoned the strug- gle and lay face downward in the snow.
 The hours went by. The sun was going down. The bitter cold was numb ing him. He had no longer any sen sation in his leg, and the teeth of the trap no longer bit, though little pool of blood had frozen on the snow.
 Suddenly Jean perceived a figure coming toward him. Incredulously, he recognized Pierre. It was Pierre him. self at his side, looking down on him. He heard his exclamation. In a few minutes Pierre had dug up the trap and set his enemy free.
 Jean struggled 10 his feet and looked up at Pierre in amazement.
 "rake all the furs and go,' he mum bled.
 Pierre clapped him on the shoulder. "Eh, mon ami, it is nothing" he said. Ut is the snow-madness that comes to us in the wilderness not so? I know,