Chapter XVI.

HOW TUG MADE "TWITCH-UPS."

"It's cold work, though," Katy replied, "sitting so still out on that

ice. I am just stiff."

"I'll fix that all right," Tug said, showing some small forked and

notched sticks he had cut out of oaken chips. "Come out with me, and

I'll show you how to set a trap that will drop itself, or, rather,

where the bird shuts his own prison door."

Gathering up Jim's blocks and slabs of ice, the whole party climbed to

the top of the hummock, which, as I have said, was almost the only

spot in the wide plain free from deep snow, and Tug went to work.

Making a little hole in the ice, he wedged into it a short,

flat-topped peg, and packed a handful of snow about its base.

Then with the brick-like blocks of ice he arranged a hollow square

around the peg. On top of the peg he laid the flattened side of the

stem of a forked stick, like a letter -< laid flat, and on top of

that, as though it were a continuation of the peg, he set a post

about ten inches high. Asking Aleck to hold these twigs in position

for him, he took one of the slabs, lodged an end of it on the rim of

the little wall made by his "bricks," and gently rested the other end

upon the top of the post, which was held in its upright position under

the pressure, at the same time keeping the -< in place. This arranged,

he spread crumbs about the trap and thickly inside. Then he announced

it ready.

[Illustration: SETTING THE NEW TRAPS.]

"Oh, I see how it works," Katy cried. "The bird, in leaping down, is

almost sure to perch on the forked twig, or, at least, to strike it.

That throws it out of place, and tumbles the whole cover down,

shutting him in."

"Correct!" said Tug, admiringly, as he went to work on a second trap

of the same kind.

This set, all left the hummock (except Jim, who agreed to take his

turn, wrapped in a blanket, at watching the strings) and joined labor

in making two or three more of the new ice traps, for now that the

birds were plenty, they wanted to capture as many as possible.

"If only I had some sort of a spring," Tug announced, "I could make

twitch-ups. I've all the rest of the fixin's, 'cause I found some

horse-hairs in my 'shop' this morning; but I don't see how I am to get

a springy twig or a strip of whalebone. I had some old umbrella-ribs,

but I didn't bring 'em along. Wish I had."

Aleck thought over all his stores, but could remember nothing that

would answer the purpose. "How about your ramrod?" he asked.

"Too stiff," Tug replied.

So they gave up talking, and attended to their work. Suddenly Aleck

went to the log, split off a strip of oak, and whittled it into a thin

rod. "How is that?" he said, as he handed it to his comrade.

Tug beat his hands and blew on his aching fingers a while before

answering. Then he bent the rod gently, but before it was curved half

as far as he needed, it broke.

"No good. Nothing but hickory will stand the strain."

"I'll tell you what you might do, perhaps," Katy suggested, having

come out just in time to witness this little trial. "The handle of the

boat-hook is hickory. If you could make an oak handle for that, you

could split the hickory up into springles, couldn't you?"

"That's so!--that's a bright idea. Try it, Tug," and the Captain ran

off for the boat-hook. The shaft of this was straight-grained,

well-seasoned, and tough, but an oaken staff would serve its purpose

quite as well.

"I should think that would answer first-rate," said Tug, "but you had

better whittle out your oak stick first. It would be rough to be

caught suddenly without any handle to our boat-hook."

"That's so," Aleck assented, and took his axe to split a suitable

piece from the log.

The making and shaping of a new handle, even in the rough, cost him

much labor with his few tools. It was nearly an hour, therefore,

before he was ready to pull the irons off the old handle and fasten

the new one into its place; and fully another hour had passed by the

time this difficult job had been done.

Then, with great care, and by the help of little wedges, a clean,

straight splinter about as thick as your finger was split from the

tough hickory staff. It was tried by the trapmaker, very gently at

first, and bent well, so that it was pronounced serviceable, though

not as good as a green twig or sapling, such as one would cut in the

woods for the same purpose. It would answer to try with, however, and

after a bit of luncheon they watched Tug make his twitch-ups--or, at

least, all did except the one on duty at the strings. As Tug himself

had to take a turn, he didn't get his traps done in time to put them

up that day.

Next morning, however, all were out bright and early to help him do

so. The snow-flakes had been there before, however, and one

unfortunate had stepped on a treacherous fork, and was caught.

Having arranged two more ice-boxes and letter Y traps, for which the

pieces had been cut yesterday, they all gathered around Tug to watch

him set his first twitch-up.

With one of the tent spikes he dug a slanting hole in the ice, into

which he inserted one end of his hickory splint, which was about four

feet long, fastening it firmly by ramming ice and snow down into the

hole beside it, which would quickly freeze solid. A short distance

from the foot of the splint he then laid down a short board, which was

braced at the foot (or end farthest from the splint) against the side

of a trough cut in the ice. The remaining three sides of the board

were then fenced in by small blocks of ice.

Next, taking from his pocket a cord made by twisting two horse-hairs

together, he slipped one end through a loop in the other, thus making

a noose, and tied it to the top of the hickory splint. This done, he

bent down the splint until he hooked its tip under the nearest end, or

head, of the board, which was raised a couple of inches from the

ground. Spreading the noose carefully out upon the board, he sprinkled

within a particularly nice lot of crumbs, then laid a little train

away from the foot of the board as a leader, and the snare was ready.

The weight of the bird treading upon the board to get the bait would

press it down enough to let the lightly caught whip end of the splint

spring up: this would pull the noose with a sudden movement, and the

bird would find itself dangling in the air by the legs or a wing, or

possibly by the neck.

Removing their captive, and resetting the square trap, the whole party

went out of sight to await further results. Yesterday they had

captured thirteen birds in all, and had eaten only nine. With three

more traps, they ought to do better to-day, and so accumulate a little

stock ahead.

"At any rate," Katy observed, "we've plenty of refrigerator room to

keep them in."

They had, indeed--a refrigerator about a hundred miles square!

The Ice Queen · 第 16 / 34 章