The trap snapped like a thunder clap.  Beneath its rusted iron teeth, Peter's ankle didn't stand a chance.  Every time he looked at it he swooned.

Ooeeh - you sure as hell got yourself in a mess there son.

Oh - thank God.  I thought I was going to die out here.

The man was in his late forties, dishevelled but well equipped for the terrain.  His teeth resembled vandalised gravestones.  With him was a young, red haired girl.

Lookee here Shirley Mae.

He sure don't look too swell Paw.

Suckers always gets in trouble when theys far away from home.

Peter almost passed out when they pried the trap's bloody mouth open.  Waves of relief washed over him.

Oh - thank God.  You know - I had terrible visions of me starving to death out here.  Or worse still, getting eaten by a grizzly bear.

Ain't no grizzlies in these parts son.

What's the trap for then?

For you son.  Shirley Mae - go get the hatchet.