Arthur Nelson Protected His Wyoming Mountain Cabin with a Trust
The second camera went on a smaller fir tree thirty yards away, creating a cross-view that would capture anything moving through the clearing from either direction. I pulled the small cellular antenna up on each unit and switched them to the setup mode, waiting for the digital screens to search for a signal.
With the cameras mounted, I carried the heavy butcher’s package further into the timber, stopping near a fallen log that sat upwind of the trail. I tore open the heavy white paper, exposing the twenty pounds of raw beef scraps and organ meat to the cold air.
The wind was blowing steadily from the west, which would carry the scent of the raw meat directly down the draw toward the creek where the seasonal wildlife paths crossed. I laid the meat across the top of the fallen log, securing a large piece of bone into a notch in the wood so a scavenger could not easily drag the whole pile away.
