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.

"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.

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!