Boek es Gommeit NN’ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT: Li} W \\ \\\ SS . ‘ \ = 4 RN NW Z NW SiN S OF ODS PALLIAM -J-LONS od ‘His eager food cry .. . went singing through the winter night’’ (see page 73) e Wit S = _ "emcee — Some Studies OF ee £ Wild Animal Life | RES ee Be 4 2 — School of The Woods Beasts of the Freld Se fowls of fhe Air = A Little Brother fo Zhe Bear Sa Following The Deer Brier Patch Philosophy €fE. ETE. Illustrated by pele ie ms — Pppee AO Ds . .. BOSTON U-S-A AND LONDON GINN & COMPANY THE ATHENAUM PRESS Fis BRARY of CONGRESS | Two Geples Received a | NOV 2 i907 Cepyrieht Entry (Oct 5 coe] 7 CLASSA —s_ KXea, ENTERED AT STATIONERS’ HALL COPYRIGHT, 1907 By WILLIAM J. LONG ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 087.10 ; Bouchaleen 3 = Ey ‘one AY y* Ny ) N ) f ay) ~ = heyyy) oN \ AM N \ / SS = 4 > yl A Ans pens, nL GOP 2” Xk nate? \% ee oa fo ) = \ Se - ee 2 — . L500 2 She this little book in a single word will find it in the chapter called “ Wild ee Ce] Folk One by One,” which is only a name to suggest the individuality of all the wood folk. Not only do they differ as orders and species, eagles from hawks and wolves from foxes, but the different individuals of the same species differ widely one from another. It is now an established fact in biology that no given stock or species ever breeds true in all its individuals. This refers, of course, to outward, biological differences of form and size and color; and when you study the inner characteris- tics, which the biologist invariably neglects, — the temper, disposition, and the primitive mind of the different animals as manifested in their actions, — xi you realize instantly that no two of them are alike, Xi and that to watch them one by one is the only pos- sible way to understand them. This spring, while I have been digging SS in my alleged garden, a robin has formed CS the habit of lighting on the ground close by my WX feet and picking up the worms that I uncover, probably finding this a much easier way of get- ting his breakfast than to. pull it. upvout of the lawn. Instead of flying away in alarm, like all other robins that I have noticed, he runs quickly to investigate every worm that I toss down to him; but he will never eat it. He just gives it a whack or two, probably from force of habit, and then throws it away impatiently with a little side jerk of his head. Only the worms that he discovers for himself seem to satisfy his somewhat particu- lar appetite. Over across the way from where the robin fol- lows my digging, a woodpecker and some sparrows have quarreled for a whole week over the possession of a dead stub in a tree, where the sparrows once built a clumsy nest and where the woodpecker once drilled a neat round hole. The woodpecker first began hammering there, idly enough, I think, for he had already drilled a deep hole in an apple-tree some distance away ; but a female sparrow saw him, and, remembering perhaps her own forgotten nest, att Sl which the winds have long since scattered, she im- mediately raised a great row and called in a dozen other sparrows to help her main- —_ Reg he, ce tain her fancied rights. Now neither bird “=a will let the other stay near the place in peace, and at times it looks as if one were tantalizing the g other. The woodpecker will approach stealthily, look all around for trouble, and then set up a loud tattoo. Instantly an angry chirp sounds around the corner, where the sparrow shows some intention of nesting, and she rushes out at him like a fury, calling in a few pugnacious tribesmen to help her, and together they chivy the woodpecker out of the neighborhood. He may hammer as much as he pleases on any other tree, or on the telegraph pole, or the resounding tin cover of a house turret, and the sparrows pay no attention to him. It is only when he lights on that particular stub that they get angry. Once, after being hunted away, he came back with another woodpecker of a different species, a golden-wing, and together they held their own for a while, one hammering and the other fighting, till the uproar brought in every idle spar- ieme-on tae Street, and‘in the end the two ham- merers were chased away ingloriously. Then the little woodpecker began to get even by chivying every sparrow he found in the neighborhood of X1V ; the tree with a feather in her beak; and the little LD comedy has ended by both birds abandon- ATCIACE ing the stub as a kind of neutral border- Dp = line, where they can always raise a row when so disposed, but where neither can ever settle down in peace. Now I have watched robins and sparrows and woodpeckers more or less ever since I was a child ; but these particular birds attract me enough to watch and to write about them, simply because they show me something about our most familiar little neighbors which none of their kind has ever shown me before. Why these birds should quarrel over an old nesting-place, which neither, probably, really wanted, or why this robin more than all others of his kind should trust me, but still refuse to eat what my hands have touched, while a hundred other birds have gladly taken the food that I have spread for them, only the birds themselves could explain. It is the new fact and the individuality which it expresses that interest me, and I cheerfully grant to even the least of my neighbors the right to their own little whims and notions. Among the higher orders of intelligent animals that I have watched in the wilderness the indi- vidual differences are even more strongly marked. Thus, the lynx is usually a cowardly animal, and hunters who scare the wits out of Upweekis with a pack of savage dogs, and trappers who find him in their traps, frightened and be- Hrelace wildered, in midwinter, when he is also weakened by starvation, generally tell you dog- matically that the lynx never fights or shows EE courage. But I have found him on my own trail j fe in the winter woods when he was uncomfortably bold in his disposition; and my friend the keeper of the Canadian National Park, who is a big man and a brave one, and who has spent the greater part of his life close to wild animals, had the most uncomfortable experience which he has ever known in the woods when he was followed all one after- noon by one of these big, silent prowlers, who plainly meant mischief and who was not to be frightened away. This same Canada lynx is also generally set down as a snarling, selfish, stupid beast; but one summer I found a den and hid beside it every morn- ing at daylight for over,a week, and at the end, when I had watched this savage old mother and her own little ones without prejudice, I gladly modi- fied my own previous opinion of Upweekis the Shadow as an essentially selfish and uninteresting animal. Indeed, I find that any animal or bird becomes interesting the moment you lay aside your XV ek, gun and your prejudices and watch with your heart fretace as well as your eyes wide open; especially so when, after an hour’s silent watching, the animal suddenly does some little signifi- cant thing that you never noticed before, and that reminds you that this shy little life is, after all, akin to your own. Those who have kept a variety of dogs and cats and horses need no argument to convince them of the individuality of their pets ; but all your interest- ing stories of your dogs and cats, showing their individual characteristics, are merely suggestive of the wider individual differences among the more intelligent wolves and caribou, and indeed among all wild animals whose wits are sharpened by getting - their own living in a world of many troubles. They are much harder to watch and to understand, and that is the chief reason why we have not long ago discovered more about them. Even among those who have had the opportunity of watching the rare wild creatures, two things still stand in the way of our larger knowledge, namely, our hunting and our prejudice. It is simply impos- sible for the man who chases through the woods with dogs and rifles, intent on killing his game, ever to understand an animal. As well expect the ee barbarian who puts a village to fire and slaughter to understand the peaceful spirit of the people whom he destroys in their terror and confusion. It is not simply that the hunter is limited rela ce in knowledge by his own pursuits and in- Se XVl1l terests, but the animals themselves are different ; | when-you meet them in a place where they are g : often hunted they show an entirely different side of fe their nature, — much wilder than when you meet them peacefully in the solitudes. And the man who goes to the woods with a preconceived idea that animals of the same species are all alike, that they are governed solely by instinct and show no indi- vidual wit or variation, merely binds a thick veil of prejudice over his eyes and blunders blindly along, missing every significant little thing which makes the animal interesting. For many years now I have delighted to watch wild animals in the wilderness, trying to see with- out prejudice just what they do, and trying to understand, so far as a man can, just how in their own way they live and think and feel. Sometimes I creep near and hide and watch them, close at hand, until they discover me ; and almost invariably at such times they show no fear at first, but only an intense curiosity. Sometimes I vary the pro- gramme, as in the following chapter on the bear, .... when I find a good spot in the wilderness where XV111 game signs are abundant, and watch there all day long, from dawn to sunset, noting quietly and carefully every animal from moose to wood-mouse that passes along the silent trail. And this, when you once find the joy of it, is the very best hunting of all. This little book is one of the results of these happy vacations spent in watching the wild things. It aims to do two things : first, to show some of the unrecorded facts of animal life exactly as I have seen them; and second, to reproduce as far as pos- sible the spirit of the place and the hour, and to let you also feel something of that gladness and peace _which I have always found in the silent places. WILLIAM J. LONG WHEN THE BEAR CAME A SABLE HERO THE Cry OF THE WOLF __—-4 WILD FOLK ONE BY ONE THE VAGABOND ———4 WHAT FoR? WILD-GOOSE Ways . QUEER HUNTING GOOD FISHING HIMSELF xix 27 A = =m FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS oe oe “ HIS EAGER FOOD CRY .---+ WENT SINGING THROUGH THE WINTER NIGHT” (see page 73) . : . Frontispiece ci a ,o2 8 PAGE 3) YU ane bY * \ “ MOOWEEN SAT DOWN IN ANOTHER RASPBERRY PATCH, -- - AND BEGAN TO EAT GREEDILY ” : : . se “Up THEY CAME HAWING, FLAPPING, SCRAMBLING DESPERATELY” . : : : : 5 : ot SiG “ THAT FIRST HUNGRY WOLF - - - FOLLOWING THE TRAIL I HAD MADE AT DUSK” . , : d : + (OgF ‘WALKING ON HIS HIND LEGS AND CARRYING THE DRAG IN HIS ARMS” . : : : 3 : : 3 17 * wat >». n oy, SHEL eet yy, spftorn “SET HIS WINGS AND SLANTED DOWN AMONG HIS TAME 2 = KINDRED” . : : ‘ : : : : - LIS “STANDING WITH ONE FOREFOOT RAISED, LISTENING IN- SEN EEY : : : : : : : Bes ely hy “ THEN TO THE OCEAN AND BACK AGAIN” : : 2 LO “ALL THREE WITH RAISED HEADS AND EARS SET FORWARD, PLAINLY ASKING A HUNDRED QUESTIONS” ESD ies “ROSE LIKE A FLASH AND WAS AWAY WITH MY BAIT BEFORE I HAD TIME TO LIFT THE ROD” : 2 “A LITTLE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW NESTLED CLOSE AGAINST THE STEM OF A FIR” : 4 : = 227 XxX1 I r pa hy Tae ve Beaty | Nera ARE RE ae lqonyliee HA 570 socks wh URRY li ar Somat ANT SR eA Ri isin i On ae Ae PS y ai|t1E long summer afternoon was ’ Jae Hw x \ es. Gy aS : fading away; a solitary hermit- ¢ *}.. thrush was trying to remember ! f his spring song over a belated nest; the air filled suddenly VA 7S LIN CNA with that marvelously soft, clear gleam that precedes the twilight, and cool purple shadows began to creep down the western mountain into the little wild valley, when the bear came for whom I had been watching all day long. Now you naturally think of a bear as something to kill, if you can; and because he is shy and seldom seen, a summer day is not too long to wait for him, especially when many things are happening, meanwhile, to give you good hunting. I had found Moo- ween’s “works” in a burned valley among 3 the hills, on my way to a lonely little pond where never a fly had been cast, but where, 50 nevertheless, there were some big trout tC DCE that I had seen breaking water one morning at daylight. Those same big trout proved hard to catch; the day was too bright for such shy fellows, and as I fished I was thinking more of the bear’s works than of the best flies or bait to beguile the wary ones. So presently I followed my heart back to the little wild valley and went nosing along the bear’s trail to find out what he had been doing. Here he stopped to lap the water from the cold brook, which steals along under the wild grasses and vanishes under a great fallen log. -See the print of his) ferefees where he stood, and yonder one huge hind track to tell you how big he is! He was heading for the blueberry patch, and there — just look how he has stripped the bushes, champing them between his great Jaws, pull- ing off green and ripe ones alike, and getting as many leaves as berries! He is a poor picker, sure enough. A berry must be such a little thing in a bear’s big mouth! I won- der how many quarts it would take to satisfy him. There he went into the wild raspberry bushes for a li iety, WDCAM pberry bushes for a little variety. CA z Careful old bear! No careless strip- Me ae ia ping of bushes now, pulling them through & é his mouth and over his tongue roughly, for these bushes have prickles on them. Here is where he sat down and bent the berry-laden vines with his forepaws, mouthing them care- fully, taking only the ripest berries and leav- ing the others crushed on their stems. With a little imagination this is better than trout- fishing. One can almost see the old fellow sitting here, filling himself with sweet red ber- ries and having a good time all by himself. There he leaves the raspberry patch and heads again for the open. You can trace his course a dozen yards ahead by the disturbed bushes, showing the silvery under side of their leaves. Here he stopped to rip open a log for grubs; here he dug under a root for a wood-mouse, probably, and here he rifled an . ~2 ant’s nest. Small game this, but Mooween ee gd likes it; and you begin to think a : Oe , wwe as Je WV) “af pen ) é \\ nA se gree 77 SMR: ie aA Ae ome ee sv such a terrible fellow, after all, since he spends so much of his time and great strength hunt- ing grubs and mice and such “small deer,” and is evidently content with what he gets. Do you wonder, now, ees how he can pick a tiny ant out of that mass Ee of rubbish with his big tongue without get- ting a mouthful of dust and dry chaff? He -does not doit that way; he seems to know ep EZ Whdiethe Bear better, and that the moment an ant-hill is dis- turbed the inmates will come swarming out, running about in alarm, crawling over every- thing and back again, and hurrying away with the young grubs to hide them from the light, which kills them. So he just knocks the top off the hill, stirs up the nest, and hes down quietly, placing his forepaws where the ants are thickest. At first he makes no effort to pick up the hurrying insects, workers and fighters, which swarm out of their tunnels, some to repair the damage, some to attack the intruder, and some, the nurses, to take care of the young grubs. Mooween waits till they crawl over the big black object that rests upon the nest and then he begins to lick his paws, more and more greedily as he tastes the acid things, like a child sucking a big pickle. So he gets all he wants, cleanly from his own paws, instead of Were ah filling his mouth with dust and chaff, Cam She a as he must do if he attempted to catch them aS p in any other way. An interesting fellow is Mooween. Yon- der is his trail after leaving the ant-hill. Here are berries that were in his mouth only two or three hours ago, for they are still moist; here are others that he tasted the day before yesterday, and here is a place where he must have passed many times to leave such a plain trail among the dense bushes. A bear, if not disturbed, almost invariably comes back over the same route, sometimes the next day, sometimes the next week, but always on the same general trail, as he makes his rounds from one good - feeding-ground to another. Judging by his works here, Mooween likes the place and comes often, and we have only to hide and watch for a few days, or perhaps only for a few hours, in order to get him. This was the thought in my head as I left my camp at daylight next morning for a long, 3 lazy, satisfying day all alone. Within . as ge arc the hour I had crossed the lake, fol- RSS lowed a mile of dimly blazed trail, all 5 : fresh and dripping with dew, and was sitting “ay ee comfortably in the nest I had chosen. This was a huge rock, some thirty or forty feet high, projecting from the eastern hill, with bushes and little trees on the top, where you could see for several hundred yards up and down the valley. One was sure to see some- thing in such a place, if he waited long enough, and whichever way the wind blew you were well above the ground scent and had a big territory under your eyes wherein no animal would probably smell you. As wild animals seldom look up, you were per- fectly safe from their eyes so long as you kept still. At least I thought so till a big buck came along and taught me differently, an hour or two later. The sun had not yet looked over the east- ern hills when I settled down to watch. A wavy line of soft white mist lay over the brook, which now and then I heard faintly, telling its story to the alder leaves and to the mossy stones. Over on the west- ern mountain a cock partridge began to drum out of season, in simple glad- Ce Nearer a few birds, in the second belated nesting, were trying to sing cheerily. The whole earth lay fresh and moist and sweet under my eyes, and the air was filled with the delicious fragrance of the early morning. Truly it was good to be here alone, with no one to talk or to interrupt your own thoughts and impressions. I made a soft seat and leaned against the stem of a young aspen to enjoy it all comfortably. Whatever came along, it was sure to be good hunting. My field-glasses hung from my neck, open for instant use, and my rifle stood leaning against a bush; for I intended to kill the bear, should J\¥ he turn out to be a “big ol’ he one,” as Simmo would call him, or even a yearling, if his skin were any good at all. A mother bear would be safe, for her skin would be utterly worthless at this time; and besides, bears do no harm in the woods; they are not game-killers. A mother bear would mean one or two more cubs next year, and the sees 2 aes CG! wore bears there are the better for one who camps in the big wilderness. Presently, in the exquisite morning still- | ® ness, I heard a familiar sound, — krop, krop, krop / and then a soft rustle of leaves and one sharp, clear snap of a dry twig. Onlya deer’s dainty foot breaks a twig like that. He is up there feeding —two, no, three of them — and instantly I am all attention. Soon, by a great log that lies near me, in the shadow of the eastern hills, I see a small animal moving indistinctly. A porcupine, I think, for it is too small for a deer, and it moves along the log in a rambling, hesitat- ing way that is characteristic of the bristling fellow, who never seems to know where he is going nor what he will do next. Slowly the glasses come up to my eyes. I stop breathing suddenly, for it is a deer’s head, a yearling, and she is cropping the plants that grow richly along either side of the molder- ing log. All the rest of her body is hidden in the shadows and underbrush, but the head goes searching along the old log, and through the glass I can see her eyelids blink Wo impatiently as they are brushed by leaves and brambles. G CainekAS Y ~~ - LS — » S e~S Suddenly a big doe steps out, in full sight, = ae and hides the yearling at her eager feeding. For a few moments the old deer stands perfectly still, looking down into the valley, which is just beginning to brighten in the morning light. She is not watching for ene- mies now. The early peace still rests over all the woods, and there is nothing in her quiet bearing to suggest fear. She seems to be just looking down over the exquisite little familiar place, as if she knew and owned it all. All the deer love sightly places, and you could search the wilderness over with- out finding a prettier spot than this. As she stands there, quiet and confident, within thirty yards’ of a deadly rifle, the underbrush opens and a dappled fawn capers out gracefully. Here are three generations of deer living together in peace, and they will hold together for mutual companionship and protection, if the hunters let them alone, until the yearling yonder has a fawn of her own to care for and to take up all her attention. The little fellow seems fat and well-fed; evidently he has no fears, and as I watch sympathetically he glides up to his mother, lifts his pretty head, while she bends down to rub his cheeks and neck in quick, gentle little caresses. For a few moments only I can watch them, because, curiously enough, a deer never feeds long in the midst of abundance, but takes a bite here and a bite there and moves onward, tasting twenty varieties of food within as many min- utes and making a continual pleasure of feed- ing. Aside from this evident pleasure there is probably also a measure of protection in the habit, for by changing constantly deer keep more alert and watchful, and make it more difficult for prowlers like myself to find é,. and stalk them. 19 Qa 7aps 2 reer 3s For perhaps five minutes the three deer SAP WRU 3 Oy — 74 Ni an gee feed securely almost under my watch- tower; then they cross the a brook, not stopping for even a sip of the delicious water. Every- thing they eat at this hour is drenched with dew, and so they have no need for drinking deeply. Besides, the wild animals are wiser than men in that they first eat their fill and drink afterwards. As they wander up the brook on the opposite side I am all expectancy once more, for I came down there myself, only a little while ago, and presently they must cross my trail in the wet grass. Ah, see them now! The yearling scented it first, threw up her head, and froze in her tracks. Catching her sudden alarm the old doe stood alert, sniffing the air and turning eyes and ears up and down the valley; while the fawn, not knowing what it all meant, shrank into a bush to hide and stood looking out, his eyes big with wonder. A different picture that, and a sad commentary on my own ways in the wilder- ness. There was no sound, no alarm of any kind that I could understand; but the old doe turned abruptly and glided up the hill. The fawn followed in his mother’s tracks, and the yearling made her own trail. A moment later I caught a glimpse of them, standing among the big trees on the edge of the green brulée, watching keenly the back trail. oe NaN BOar Then they melted away like shadows a eos in the still woods. “= A half-hour passed over me in the ex- x quisite place before other sounds came drift- ing down the wild hillside, — pra, prut, prut / kwtit, kwit! kroo, kroo! Leaves moved here and there; little wavy lines ran along the berry bushes, and I knew that a flock of partridges had come down to feed, though I could see nothing of them, only the shaking of leaves and grass stems as they glided about. Presently a young bird jumped upon a fallen log in plain sight and stretched his neck to look. Another and another followed, until SIx were in a row; then the old hen bird appeared on the end of the log, glanced over her brood to see that all were there, and with- out any fuss began to preen herself quietly. It was a most tempting sight. At times three or four heads were in line, and I found myself thinking greedily how many I could cut off with a single bullet; for at this season the young birds are fat and tender, more delicious than any chicken. But I was after bears, and must keep still ; and besides, : Whe the moment you go hunting for meat HEC ; .. CAME you get just that in your head, as if the world were only a butcher shop, and you miss twenty better things. This hour and place are altogether too exquisite for shooting. I wonder, now, what in the world are they all i? eV Sc NWS Z, EQN Ee SS A gawking on that log for, when they ought to be filling themselves with sweet berries? Many times before this I had surprised a flock of grouse resting on a log or in the open woods at this same hour, when they ought to be feeding, and had wondered about it. Now for the first time it seemed to me that I understood. In the late fall, when mornings are cold, grouse always seek the first sunshine, apparently to warm them- selves; but here their bedraggled feathers showed plainly that-the bushes were still too wet for comfortable feeding. A grouse loves to keep himself perfectly trim and neat, and this desire seems to be stronger than the desire for food, even in the young birds. For a long time they kept to their dry log, each one busy trimming his own feathers, while I ie He Raped 16 watched them with immense interest, and the sun poured down into the val- c ley and dried up the dew. Then they = eee down, one by one, and I could trace » the flock for a long distance at their feeding, and occasionally I had a glimpse of a young bird jumping into sight for an instant to peck at the berries that hung too high for his ordinary reach. Just below me was a clump of tall rasp- berry bushes well laden with the delicious fruit. When the flock found this they re- mained there, quiet and unseen, for several moments, evidently picking up the berries that had fallen to the ground. Then a bush swayed and bent, and I saw a young bird plainly trying to climb up into it. But he could get no grip on the slender stem; it was too fragile to bear his weight, and pres- ently he tumbled off, shaking down a shower of ripe berries, which he ate greedily. Soon the flock passed out of sight, and I forgot all about them in watching another shaking of the bushes that was going on all the while close at hand. For some moments I had noticed it; now, as my young partridges had WE. Cam nothing more to show me, I turned Re my glasses in the direction of the spot and 738 watched intently. Every now and then a bush would shake as something struck it from beneath; but the leaves were too thick, and try as I would I could see nothing defi- nitely. Another flock of young birds, I thought, but hardly had I come to this con- clusion when a big drummer partridge ap- peared for an instant on top of a stump, looked all around a few moments keenly, jumped back into the thicket of raspberries, and immediately the bushes began to shake again. No flock there, certainly, for when you find a drummer you find a selfish bird that looks after himself only and takes no thought for his mate and her brood of little ones. Soon he came out in plain sight and AS minced along in my direction, now halting to turn himself about like a dancing- master ata Virginia reel, ‘tay: Qo A fea. as SS can now spreading his tail and ruff, and now mounting a log to walk it proudly from end to end. I suppose he was only exer- 18 cising caution, in his own way, in a world of many dangers; but he made = the impression on me of a fine dandy, dis- playing himself for the benefit of any hens that might be watching him. As he stopped and turned himself about, spreading and closing his beautiful tail, on a log just below me, my hand reached almost unconsciously for the rifle. “ You are a fine, fat bird,” I thought, “but you do nothing for the support of your family, and nobody would miss you if you were gone. I could take your head off, now, without half trying, and you would be a rare donne bouche wrapped in bacon strips and browned on a spit over the coals. Hello! what in the world are you doing now?” For Seksagadagee the grouse had jumped down from his log, glided into a raspberry thicket under my eyes, and instantly a tall bush shivered violently and a few ripe berries rattled to the ground. A few moments of intent watching, then another tall bush quiv- ered as something struck it, and more ripe berries were shaken from their stems. It was plain enough now what he W) aes Pp § LA was doing, though I could hardly see Cam <> BS a feather, only the swift motion in the bushes, Oe i a shake, and then the falling berries. Instead 4% 7 of trying to climb the slender stems, like a foolish young grouse, he simply ran against them, making a battering-ram of himself, or else struck them with his powerful wing and so shook off a few of the ripe berries for his own enjoyment. So he passed on through the thicket and down to the brook, where I soon lost him among the alders. Good hunting this! I am glad enough now that I did not take his head off at first sight, as I might have done. It is better to get an idea from a bird, to understand a little better how he lives, than to make a breakfast of him. Both he and I, evidently, are debtors to the bear for which I am watching, he for his atom of life, and I for a small grain of knowledge. Whoever it is that keeps the world’s accounts, or writes things down in the “book of remembrance,” he must have a curious trial balance to strike at the end of every life, however big or little. Whe, oo pel He had been gone for perhaps an hour and nothing of any great interest gefers had passed under my leafy watch-tower. It Ue" was getting towards the hour when all game that stirs about in the early dawn has fed full and is moving slowly to its morning rest. The birds had ceased calling; an intense silence brooded over the great wilderness. Suddenly I felt, as I often do when alone in the woods, that something was watching me, and turned my head quickly. That was my only mistake; for it frightened the big buck that stood close behind, watching me intently. He had come down the hill quietly, probably to drink at the brook. Some slight motion of mine had caught his eye, and he had stopped instantly to find out what I was. He stood on the hillside in plain sight, not twenty yards away, and almost on my own level. In the whole sweep of landscape there was not another spot where he could have approached without my first seeing or hearing him. I have no idea how long he had been standing there behind me, trying to make out the queer unknown thing on the rock; and had I remained still, or had I — turned my head very slowly, he would Cam a undoubtedly have puzzled over it still longer. Fa p As it was, I had one splendid glimpse of rs him standing like a magnificent statue, his antlers raised, his black nose pointing straight at me like an accusing finger, and a look of inexpressible wildness in his bright eyes as they looked straight into mine. Then he whirled on his hind legs, leaped over a great rock, his white flag flying defiantly in my face, and I heard the sound of his feet, dum, bump, bump / after he vanished in the shelter and silence of the friendly woods. How selfish even an animal gets when he has only himself to care for! A doe, used to caring for others, had she stood in his place, would have sounded her alarm-blast at the first jump to warn every deer within hearing that an enemy was in sight. But not so with this selfish old buck, used to think- silently, cunningly, till I betrayed myself; then he jumped away without a sound, car- ing nothing for any other deer that might be coming down to drink at ss the brook. If I were after meat now, I a would wait awhile, till you forgot your fears, es ee and pick up your trail; and I think I know where I could find you, later in the day, when you think all things are resting lazily like yourself. As it is, good luck to you, Hetokh the buck. This hunting satisfies me perfectly. Only, when the snows come, I hope it will be your selfish trail and not that of the careful old doe that the hunters will follow. The day passed more slowly after Hetokh had gone, till the noon sun shone down straight and clear in the valley, when I ate a handful of figs and pilot-bread thankfully and crept down from my rock to drink at the little brook. For an hour or more a pair of big hawks had been circling high over me, whistling shrilly, and their calls were an- swered by some young hawks which I could see occasionally, flying over the big woods across the valley. They knew that I did not belong here on the rock, but they were uncertain about me till I crawled out and showed myself plainly, when they = whirled away towards their young Whe See Cames and did not come back again. Ore ‘ S ESA Sy ee ze \ Hour after hour passed swiftly over the pos beautiful place, and the very spirit of the a big wilderness, all stillness and peace, took possession of the watcher. The big game was resting lazily, hidden away in the fir- thickets on the hillsides, and the small things had the big world all to themselves. Now it was a chipmunk — Chickchickoo- weesep, as Simmo calls him — who kept upa regular, sleepy chunk-a-chunk, chunk-a-chunk, in most monotonous measure, as if he were the nurse of the world, to keep everything dozing in the afternoon sunshine. Again it was a waving line of bushes, moving slowly across the valley, and try as I would I could not see whether fur’ or feathers moved _ be- neath it. Now Cheokhes the mink glided in and out of sight, following the hidden brook on his still hunting. Again a little wild bird, which had never seen a man before, approached within reach of my hand and looked at me with round, inquisitive Werk the eB ear eyes, and after a moment’s observation flew down to whir his little wings in my face in order to make me move; and again it was only an insect, creeping in and out among the moss and lichens under my hand and acting as if his were the only ~ important life in the universe, as it probably was to him. So the long, happy hours passed, all too swiftly. A wonderful tide of soft, clear ight that filled the air and made everything bril- liant rolled suddenly over the valley, and I knew, without once looking at my watch, that I had been sitting here fourteen hours and that the twilight would follow speedily. A moose appeared silently at the lower end of the valley, followed the dim trail for a dozen yards, the light shining on the tips a of his big antlers, and vanished among the |< \ alders by the brook. Over on the opposite \ . | hill a deer began to feed, £rof, krop, krop/ as ‘alif it were just morning, as I wished it to be in my heart, in order that I might have so many more hours of solitude and immense peace. High overhead a night-hawk began booming; little birds began to chirp WD as they gathered for the night’s rest, C. and — What was that? Ca axe (Ne> Bae Up on the hill on my left, where the west- ern light shone clearest, a log bumped sud- denly; a twig cracked heavily, heedlessly, as if the creature that passed through the solitude yonder had little concern how he walked. Mooween the bear was coming, at fast, for that is the way he feeds in the burned lands, when he thinks no human enemy is near to watch him. A mountain-ash shivered suddenly, just below where I had heard the twig crack; the underbrush opened and out he came, a splendid big brute, black and glossy, and went straight to a raspberry patch. My glasses were upon him instantly, watching every suggestive movement as he sat down and gathered the bushes with his paws and mouthed them carefully, stripping off all the ripe berries. He was near enough to shoot. My hand reached slowly for the rifle; but it was too entertaining just to watch him sitting there, all unconscious, enjoying him- a0 self in his own way, and I still had ac she DCE enty of time to dll hee hungry, evidently; it would take many berries to satisfy that enormous appetite. When he had stripped all the bushes within reach he turned away impatiently and, neg- lecting other berries all around him, came out of the raspberry patch straight towards me. I could see his brown muzzle now, and the little sharp eyes that looked only in front of his nose. He turned his great head sud- denly, as if he had scented something, and went straight through two clumps of blue- lg “ \ SS XK KE = ae =) ~ 2 berry bushes for an ant-hill that lay in plain Zi Ny W\ W sight. This he stirred up roughly, knocking “i the top aside, and sat down beside it, regard- a ing it intently. There was nothing in the *) if nest, evidently. Perhaps he had eaten them all up, long ago, or else he had no mind for sour ants as yet, until he had cloyed himself with honey or sweet fruit. After a moment’s intent watching of the ant-hill, and before I had recovered from my own intense absorption or remembered that this was the bear I had come to kill, he rose suddenly and vanished in a dense fir-thicket. a hollow dump / rolled out of the thicket; then the sound of rotten wood being torn to pieces. —Ten minutes passed slowly, more slowly than any other in the long day, with- out any sound or motion from Mooween. I thought I had lost him, when he appeared again, much farther away, on the opposite hillside, where charred and fallen logs lay thickest. He stopped at one, gave it a heavy thump with his paw and turned his head side- wise to listen; then he went on, gathering a few blueberries casually, till he found another log that suited him. Again the heavy thump of his forepaw, again the quick twisting of his head to listen; then he slid one paw under the log to grip it from the opposite side, drove the big claws of his other paw into the top, and with one wrench laid the log open. In an instant he was busy, jumping about ex- citedly, running his tongue up and down over ; the moldering wood, picking up every ANC eB car grub and worm and beetle that he CaM © had exposed, and that now crawled or f< darted back to cover. “When he had eaten all the tidbits he came quartering down the hill in my direction, and twice in plain sight I saw him repeat the interesting performance. He would bat a log with his forepaw and instantly turn his head to lay his ear closer, just as a robin turns his head to listen and to locate the worm that he hears working underground. The blow was intended, evidently, to stir up the hidden insect life and set it moving, so that Mooween could hear it. If he heard nothing, he would go on till he found an- other log that suited him and give that a thump, twisting his head alertly to listen for results. When he heard his small game stir- ring he would tear the log to pieces; and then it was immensely entertaining to see him hopping about, all hfe and animation now, thrusting his nose into crevices, lapping eagerly with his tongue, and before he had swallowed one morsel jumping away to catch another. And when a grub escaped Whe. him and his tongue swept up only rotten wood, he would get mad as a CamMegxy a: hatter and put both paws up to his ears, like 7H an angry child, and wiggle and shake him- self. Then he would aim a spiteful blow at the spot where the grub had disappeared, ripping out a shower of dead brown wood with his powerful claws; and instantly he would forget his anger and everything else in trying to catch one, two—a whole nest of unexpected grubs which his blow had left exposed and squirming. He was near me now and just in front, where even the poorest of shots could hardly miss him. Slowly, regretfully, I must con- fess, my hand crept towards the rifle that adestood there all the day idle;, but it stopped again as Mooween sat down in another raspberry patch, where the sweet red berries were thickest, and began to eat them greedily, all unmindful of the enemy that lay now with head and shoulders over the edge of the rock, watching every uncon- scious movement. That was the whole | trouble. I had stopped to watch him WAG, he B car instead of shooting at the first good vi chance; and the moment you stop to watch an animal with any sympathetic or human interest, you forget all about your rifle. And the longer you watch the harder it is to bring yourself to shoot. It seemed only fair, when a bear had given you a happy day and a whole lot of good hunting, to acknowledge the debt and to leave to some other fellow whatever fun there might be in killing him. Besides, he was so much more interesting alive than dead; his skin was little good at this season, and —I began to make excuses now—I wondered if I still had light enough left to follow the dim trail back through the darkening woods to where I had left my canoe in the morning twilight. Suddenly the leaves over my head began to rustle. It had been calm and still all day; now a night-wind eddied over my rock and set all the aspen leaves to trembling. On the instant Mooween sprang to his feet. ° *“Mooween sat down in another raspberry patch, . . and began to eat greedily 5 Teak a bY ai pt w, — Mie careless, confident air of this great prowler of the northern woods vanished in tense alertness. He threw his nose into the breeze, rocking his head up WE Ge Dear Cam LZ OS and down so as to try more air and © 7 po Dy my rock twice, but never noticed or sus- pected what he must have plainly seen had he raised his eyes, —a man leaning far over the edge and watching him with silent in- tentness. He turned swiftly, glided into the nearest thicket, and for several long minutes not a leaf stirred. He was in there some- where, sitting perfectly still, rocking his brown muzzle up and down in the effort to find out what the thing was that had sent him this subtle, alarming message. Then a waving line of brush-tops was drawn slowly, cautiously up over the hill, Ona great bare rock I saw him plainly once more, as he turned to the back trail to listen and sniff and watch, to find out if it could tell him any- thing. No chance of surprising him again, even had I wished it, for now his keen senses were all alert for every slightest warning; yet so still was he, so absorbed in sifting the many messages that float unnoticed through the big woods, that a man might pass close under his watch- tower without ever noticing Mooween stand- . ing silent among the shadows. Then he glided down from his rock and vanished into the vast silence and mystery that comes at twilight over the wilderness. Ce Peo VBE b 5 “ia fees ka f ~ (Tih Te. wy eg 35 SABLE HERO Nao the beach came the ducks, — coots, broad- bills, golden eyes, dusky mallards, driving in like arrows on the blasts of \\ a landward sale and SS set their stiff ee and came down with a long splashing plunge, quacking their delight at the new feeding- srounds. For the ice was out of the big pond at last; though here and there, where. the winter storms had broken over the beach, it was still piled up in gray, uncouth masses 37 38 along the shore. For days the birds had been coming in, tired of salt mussels as a a steady diet, and weary of being tossed — AL SALlC eae on the cncale ae a lon Hero , s ocean rollers broke into sand and spray over their feeding-grounds. First they came to the outer harbor, only to be routed out of every resting-place by the busy scol- lop-boats; and the fishermen watched their unwilling flight and whispered to their hunt- ing friends that there was good shooting at Coskata, “rafts and slathers of ducks,” they said, all going into the pond whenever the boats stirred them up. That is why I slept at the life-saving station that night when the northeaster began to blow, and why dawn found me tramping the shore of the pond, carelessly routing out scattered bunches of ducks that had come in ahead of me. No need to crawl and hide and strain my eyes now in the gloom, for the storm-tossed birds would surely be back again before I was half ready for them. Hunters had been here already, in pleasant weather; but to-day, with a gale blowing and squalls of sleet driving into one’s face like hot needles, they would all be snug in the fish-houses swapping stories, and I ace A Sable might have the big pond all to my- self. My stand was a huge pile of TIETQ broken ice where I hollowed out a nest, lining it with seaweed, and threw an old sheet over my shoulders so as to look like one of the ice cakes. In front of me a dozen wooden decoys were bobbing about merrily, looking natural enough to deceive even a duck as they rose and dipped to the choppy waves and swung - and veered to the snow-squalls. an experience is; but the joy is there, never- theless, that cannot be expressed. The sleet drives into you; your | fingers ache on the gun-barrels, and your toes long since have & happily lost all \ feelings, when S wish, wish, wzish, wish! sounds the < rapid, pulsating beat of wings S swooping down to your decoys, and lo! you are all warm again. And when the swift 37 Sable Galea, a certain elemental gladness thrills you as you chatter through your teeth the old Anglo-Saxon song of Zhe Seafarer: wings are still, and only the squall rumbles and hisses among the ice cakes, you are still cozy at heart, and The hail flew in showers about me; and there I heard only The roar of the sea, ice-cold waves and the cry of the swan. For pastime the gannets’ cry served me; the swough of the seals | For laughter of men; and for mead drink the call of the sea-mews. — The shadows of night became darker; it snowed from the north ; The world was enchained by the frost ; hail fell upon earth — ’T was the coldest of grain. Yet the thoughts of my heart now are throbbing To test the sea-streams, the salt waves in tumultuous play. Indeed, it is all there still, the thrill and power and uplift of the elements that made the old Saxon glad at heart in the midst of his icy fetters; and we have only to step a I little way out of our steam-warmed houses to find that Nat d the | £06 a ne aoc ri a | - Flero zation. But it takes more than a flight 3 of birds and a gun and a dog to get at the root of the matter in duck-shooting. In an hour I had all the birds I wanted, picking out an occasional black duck and a rare redhead from the swift flights, and leav- ing the rest to veer and bob curiously and lift their wings in salutation to my stupid decoys. Then I laid aside the gun gladly, and began to watch the flocks with a more humane interest. As the light brightened in the east other and more worthy hunters had appeared stealthily. First a wild and half-starved cat caught my eye, crouching in a tuft of dry wobskt grass, staring hungrily at my decoys with fierce unblinking eyes. For some of the summer visitors here have an atrocious way of bringing cats with them, and then turning the creatures adrift when they flit away with the birds to their winter homes. These abandoned cats haunt the gutters and back yards for one season; then, finding the ~~ hand of every man and the tooth of’ AL Sable every dog bee them, they take to the swamps and rear their broods of savage, round-headed offspring, and pick up a wild living from the tides and birds and rabbits. After the big cat came scores of crows, flapping in silently without any trace of the clamor that marks their autumn gatherings, and began to search industriously the grass and matted weeds along the shore. More = intelligent than the cats, they had followed the hunters when the ice broke up, and were now looking for wounded birds which had died overnight, and which they ate ravenously. Here and there my _£ glasses showed me a 4, be ve group of the sable ban- ered, and which he Oro | i I | i ! it shared peaceably with certain of his fellows. ae What puzzled me—and what puzzles me fll, though I he tched them , PAC reeuaine oe ie roa ee Le oS ers—vwas that only a certain num- ber would come down to share a find of this kind, while a hundred more half-starved crows, which saw them plainly, would go on with their ceaseless hunting in the coves and matted grasses. Sometimes only three or four crows would gather about a dead duck; and again a dozen would surround him in a dense black circle, each standing in his place but never mounting the game wen it for his own, as. vultures’ and beasts of prey invariably do. Near these feeding groups were often scores of other crows that had found nothing, and that went on their hungry way without a thought, ap- parently, of joining the scant feast. Iam inclined to think that family relations hold longer among the birds than we have supposed. I have known old birds to help younger ones—presumably their own off- spring —in building their first nests; and among gregarious birds, like the crows and geese, the parents look after the welfare of ae AL Sale winter. Probably these crows on the S[1€EFO shore represented family groups, each of which had a right to what the others found. Whether a few strangers joined them, and the great majority of the flock kept away simply because they recognized that one small duck was not enough to fill so many mouths, is purely a matter of guesswork. The one thing that is certain to mie; after their little ones more or: less all long watching, is that the crows under- stand perfectly their own regulations, and that these busy groups on the shore were not the result of chance or accident. Ws, ee a solitary, long-winged , YY Giff WV 7 crow, attracted perhaps by / i, Wy, M7 wun MY decoys, “eae gall swinging up the shore, yew-yawing ~ like an old boat in the heavy squalls of wind. Sud- denly he poised / TREN AN x (¢ Si y (| / Yeas) Waites Wee K i like a hawk and plunged down into a great bed of matted grass. Out of it on the instant shot a wing-broken duck with the A Seabye crow after him, hovering and strik- ing savagely with his beak, while the Ter 7 duck flapped his useless wing and splashed and skittered and tried to dive in the shal- low water. Over him like a black fate hung the crow, with one sharp call, which was answered instantly by another crow that darted over my head without seeing me. Together they chivied the poor duck back toward his hiding-place. There the savage beaks soon finished him, the waves threw him ashore, and within the minute five crows were gathered about him, tearing at the warm, rich flesh as if famished. Far up on my left, on the narrow strip of beach that separated the pond from the open ocean, I had occasional glimpses of a crow mounting up and up till he poised high over the hard sand left by the tide. Something flashed white as it fell, with the crow swoop- ing down after it. He had found some hard- shelled clam that the waves had rolled up, too hard for his beak to break, and was crack- ing it by letting it fall from the height. It is | Sable CH/eCro line, and I was watching it curiously when a queer kind of hunting, which one may note among gulls and crows in midwinter when they follow the tide- all thoughts of peaceful habits and obser- vation were driven pell-mell out of my head. Over the beach from: the open sea came a great gang of geese, flying low and un- steadily, as if weary of the long flight and the ceaseless battle with the wind. I watched them breathlessly as they slanted down into the pond, paying no heed to my little decoys, but ltehtmemiarn out in the middle, where they were per- fectly safe. There they gathered in a close group, spread and gathered again, and sat silently, with raised heads, studying the shores of the unknown pond where they had taken refuge. I was on the wrong side that time. After a half-hour’s watching they glided slowly to an open beach, under the lee of a sand-bank, on the opposite side of the pond. Through my glasses I watched them enviously, resting themselves, soothing their tired wings and preening their feathers. It was a hard tramp around the pond; but geese are rare game here, ri en he , and I was chilled with sitting still so long in my icy nest and glad to be moving again. My ducks were left in the stand, with a watf upon them to show that they were mine should any hunters chance that way; my lunch also, pushed under the edge of an ice cake so that the sleet should not wet and freeze it into cold comfort before my return. Leaving every weight but the gun and field- glass and a few shells, I crept out, still cov- ered by the sheet, so that the geese would not notice me. Directly behind my stand was a low bluff. I climbed this very slowly, rolled over the summit, and hurried around the pond, keep- ing myself well hidden behind banks and bushes. I had gained the sand-ridges behind which the geese were huddled, and was crawl- ing over them like a turtle, sure of a perfect shot and at least three geese, when the stalk was brought to an exasperating end. Some g crows flying along the beach saw me creep- ing, and flew high over me to see what ah, Sable it was all about. They saw the big f geese resting unsuspiciously Hero? under the bank, and swooped down with a sharp note of warning. I knew it was all up then; for many times before this the crows had come between me and game in the same way. The geese jumped on the instant, still fifty yards out of range, set their broad wings to the wind, and slanted up like kites; then turned at the leader’s deep Zoxk and bore away steadily out of sight and hearing. I went down to the shore, with what small x philosophy the squalls had left anchored in me me, and began to examine the tracks and re ae of the geese, led by the subtle fascina- “tion that always holds me to the spot where any wild creatures have been. A faint clamor Fa ny es a a COS the pond caught ; We DY “my attention and I Y Be Se Bo a SG a Aes Wie ps ps ah \ Wang W) Se Ee fii A |’ a ees saw crows, a score of them, dropping down Se over the bluff behind WwW) ‘\ ee Z MGB “XG alk my stand. = EES WR SNR < gy INAS Pats NS “4 CZ 2 oe he VY Z ) Through the glass I saw others standing on the ice cakes, peering about inquisitively. Then one came out of the stand, perched an instant on the rim, and AT Sable Hero me jumped back again. Others followed him; one, two, a dozen were inside, and feathers began to fly up in the wind. They had found my ducks and lunch, and judging by the way they tumbled down in an end- less stream over the bank, no law or fam- ily relationship seemed to set any limit to the numbers. Haw/ haw/ down they came. They had driven off my geese, and were now making sad havoc of my own ducks. It took me nearly an hour to double the pond and get safely behind the bluff. It was all still now; apparently every crow within sight or hearing had come to the unexpected feast and was stuffing himself with duck down in my stand. Slipping in a couple of lighter shells, I ran forward. One might overlook the geese — for that was not a bad thing when you looked at it from the birds’ viewpoint — but there were plundered nests and the death of young song-birds at the crows’ door, and plenty of other old scores to settle. The high banks hid ~~ me perfectly, and the gale blew away AL Sable every sound of my swift approach. /1€ETO I was still some hundreds of yards from the edge of the bluff when a sharp | ka-ka! made me turn quickly. From some pine woods behind me two crows darted out and rushed for the bluff, crying a loud warn- ing at every flap of their wings. Whether 50 they were sentinels or not, I do not know; but they certainly knew where the flock was hidden, all unconscious of danger, and the moment I appeared running for the bluff they darted in ahead of me to give the alarm. I watched them curiously as they sped straight for the spot, struggling desperately against the gale and sounding the danger- note in a continuous cry. I looked to see the flock rise clamoring over the bluff; but they were hidden too deep to hear, and the wind carried away the sentinels’ alarm. The two watchmen had not forgotten their caution and were evidently aiming to pass well out of range; but they forgot the gale, and in every squall they were pushed steadily to leeward. As they crossed in front of me a gust of wind flung them up almost A Sable over my head. The gun spoke once, Fi, » 4 €TO and the leader tumbled headlong at my feet. The second barrel missed fire, and the other crow whirled in a panic over my head and darted back for the woods whence he had come. Still the flock under the bluff did not appear, as I expected; for the squall had carried off even the heavy report, or made it sound so faint and far away that in a region of hunters it was unheeded. Shipping in fresh shells, I was running forward, when again the sharp £a-ka/ ka-ka / sounded behind me; and I turned to see the second crow heading like an arrow for the bluff, sound- ing his alarm-note as he came on. I stopped again to watch with intense interest as he neared the flock. He was closer to the ground this time and flying more swiftly; but again he made the same sad blunder. The gale drove him steadily ee to leeward, and as he crossed _be- wt Ns Sai fore me a furious blast hurled him 2 w over my head. The gun-sight cov- ered him swiftly; and then, so near was he, I saw his wild, frightened eyes looking straight into mine along the shining gun- barrels. What he thought or felt, who can tell? There, just beyond, he saw his fellow- sentinel lying still, a drop of bright red clinging to the point of his dark beak, the rough wind ruffling his glossy blue-black feathers; here beneath him was the man who had done it, who could do it again; and there — He whirled wildly at thought of the un- conscious flock and sounded the alarm-cry at the top of his lungs. Had I pressed the trigger curling snugly under my finger, that cry to others to save themselves would have been his last. However poor and blind the understanding behind those frightened eyes, he could still see a duty to his fellows and be faithful, crying out to them to escape even at the terrible moment when death reached up from below to cut him down. Tt all occurred in an instant; but in A Sable that instant I had some thoughts and a whole lot of feelings, and the first HerQ> and last of them was that a man must not shoot a bird like that. Slowly the gun came down; my eyes fol- lowed him with wonder and admiration as panic seized him again at sight of the man and his dead mate, and he whirled away on the squall. Then I ran swiftly to the edge of the bluff and peeked over. Oh, you black rascals! with all your cun- ning, here you are fairly caught at last; and a moment ago I was ready enough to send some of you over the long flight to join the ducks. I wish you knew, I wish I could tell you, how much you owe to a little forgotten sentinel out yonder. For one must needs spare life, even the poor life of a crow, or a thief, after seeing another ready to die to save it. Such a flurry of feathers whirled up out of the stand and danced a saraband in mad glee over the ice cakes! They had ripped open my lunch, too; among the hopping “ae Sable blue backs I could see bits of the | paper that had wrapped it up. Some ‘F/€ErO new-comers tore ravenously at what was left of the ducks; others stood about working and stretching their necks to worry down a big morsel; still others, too full for another mouthful, perched solemnly on the edges of the stand, looking down curiously at the feast which had no more personal in- terest for them. The humor of the situation fell upon me, the tramp over the marshes in the cold, comfortless hour before daylight, the long watch in the ice and sleet, the escaped geese, and then the crows’ fat feast at the end of my labors. I had barely seen all this at a glance, and had begun to poke some of that fun at myself which my friends kept in liberal store for me when I used to go duck-hunting, when the warning a-ka / rattled on the wind and the sentinel shot over my head again. The crows heard him this time and gave heed on the instant. A cloud of duck feathers, ‘““Up they came hawing, flapping, scrambling desperately ”’ driven by the whirring wings, rolled up out of the stand, like smoke from a tug’s funnel. Here and there a single crow burst out of the cloud like a bomb, with a A Sable Hero 7 squawk and a yell as he saw me so near, which served only to increase the clamor and confusion below. Up they came hawing, flapping, scrambling desperately to get steerage way, till the gale caught them and whirled them in a crazy rout over my head. But after the first startled instant I scarcely saw them, my eyes being fastened on a single small crow, the sentinel. He turned sharply as the flock took alarm, was swept aside by a blast of wind, but returned again, and then led the wild rush over the moors to the pines where he had kept watch. How much did he understand of what he had done? That is a question which only a crow could answer; but a man does not have to watch the black flocks very long to see that they generally know very well what they are doing, and depend very little on blind impulse. He had seen guns and hunters and falling birds more than once, and knew the danger; he heard the terrifying roar, the whistle of shot, the thud of his stricken mate; yet ~wf he came back twice in the face of it AL sear : all to warn his fellows. Only a poor know what goes on in his head. But when 58 hungry crow, of course, and we don’t a soldier on the outpost jumps to answer a call like that, we understand exactly where to place him. 59 away up on the sda of the bar: ren lands. It was a curious kind Sae@nristmas vacation | had chosén,— to leave friends and creature comforts in order to shiver and he awake beside a fire in the snow; but fun is what you hke to do, and whenever the North calls you go, if you can, without caring much whether it 1s work or play that lies just ahead of you. I was there for no better reason than simply because I wanted to be there, and incidentally because I hoped to find out a little about the ways of wolves and caribou. Old Noel was there because he generally went where I wanted him to go, and because he was wiser than any other man, I think, about the life of animals. He knew, when I called him, that 61 there would be plenty of pork, plenty of tea, plenty of tobacco, plenty of warm blankets, and that within a day or two a fat Shee $< young caribou would be hanging up : in front of the commoosze to keep the wolf from the door, or better, perhaps, to bring him sniffing around where we slept through the long winter night. So Noel had no present worries or troubles, being only an Indian.~ As for the rest, he can “hardly yen understand why I should follow a herd of caribou all day long, and sleep cold on the trail, just to find out something which he has always known. For instance, one day I came in at dusk, worn out from a long tramp in the snow that was too light and soft for snowshoes, to find him stroking the beautiful skin of a fisher which he had taken from one of his traps. As I ate in tired silence he smoked his pipe » and watched me curiously. “Find-um any caribou to-day?” he asked = ~~ “reso suddenly. 62 Up i“ ma hag UK ivy y\\ YG = Myo Ss “Ny Da < GM Fe my “Yes, Noel, a big herd up on ~~, the fourth barren.” SR Oe a “ Kill-um any dem caribou?” he demanded, ~ as if killing were the only end of hunting. The Cry of afew yearlings playing by themselves. , Then a big lynx appeared, hiding and Ie se all “No, I got too interested watching ’ playing like a kitten, on top of arock and—” } A. ape “You shoot-um dat link?” he broke in; { in fas and the fire that sleeps in an Indian’s eyes ant began to sparkle with the hunter’s interest. “No,” I said, shamefaced; “he seemed to be trying to decoy the young caribou where he could jump on one. I got too close, and he saw me before I thought of shoot- ing him.” “By cosh,” said Noel indignantly, “I go wid you nex’ time! Dat link skin fetch-um six dollars. Why you go huntin’ anyway?” “Just for the love of it, Noel,—a boy’s love of the big woods and the rivers and the silent places. I am hunting for the boy chiefly, the boy who was myself, whom I lost long ago, but whom I am always hoping to find again, either here or in the Happy Hunt- ing Grounds. Do you ever follow his trail, Noel, and forget that you are an old man?” Wa 7) AL wy li ! i 4 4A A ANRYERY PY) H A} {iv DEAR SY DRAB OVI WON 6 He dif ENN eee CH A | (eaZtaNeen Ly \ Wi H/ tere Drs ~ln. NH | Ht Go Wn | My [Nf fl HN - ye WES 4 ae ‘Sam SS" Ss —J) 2 a M05 Gy ZB (<< Ge - Sean sary, Sis Wolf But an Indian, used to silence and mys- tery as his daily portion, never answers a question like that; and you are never Or quite sure what he is thinking about. Often when he has questioned me © about books and men, about ‘eities ane churches and the great sea and the life of other lands, I find him regarding me in- tently across the camp-fire, asking silently why a man who has seen and learned so much should spend his time puzzling out the simple problem of the differ- ence between a mink and a sable ® track, though he never makes the FS, slightest effort to catch either -= animal when he has the chance. The lost boy also puzzles him, and a week after I have forgot- Zs ten the subject he takes it up at gree. the exact point where we broke off. On the night of which I am writing we had gone out together and ees had followed the caribou +s /) {=I GF = (ip miso. SS ice 5 Sa tis) Ve |, =a ti), By} e Ace 2 Ye = “ az " ws) x = 4 Ns Fle t = 4 wil oa herd too far from our snug little nest under a ledge, and were camped on the trail. At dusk we had scraped a hole in the snow with our snowshoes, made a lit- Te at of Pe. 65 tle hut of slanting poles and boughs, aeee covered deeply with snow to keep it warm, } “ and a huge fire of hard wood sang the forest In Benes sleepily in front of our: little com- i moose. Vhe night was intensely cold and still; the smoke stood straight up from the camp-fire; the stars glittered and grew big, and the snow lay like a garment of jewels over all the earth. The moon shone white and cold, and under it the spruce forest stood, as always in the still night, waiting, waiting apparently for something that never comes. Far off, like a ghost of a sound,a low moan trembled suddenly on the hori- zon. I answered it with a shiver, which was partly the cold, partly the sense of ele- mental mystery that never leaves me in the wilderness, and glided away into the shadows of the big woods. A few hundred yards behind our com- moose there was a cliff on the edge of a 66 great barren. I climbed to the top and stood there alone in the vast silence of the winter night, so cold, so still that one’s nerves Te Wi = a all a-tingle, and the chiming of a Ws million fairy bells seemed to consti- tute the silence. At my feet: stretened are open barren, desolate, fearfully desolate and lifeless under the moonlight; and all around the black forest stood waiting. Though silent, all the world seemed struggling in some strange way for speech, seemed freez- ing to death in the grip of the winter night and, waiting in tense expectancy for some great voice to express its suffering. Suddenly the voice came. From the woods ‘ close at hand a sound broke out, —a terrible sound, beginning in a low moan, swelling out into a roar that filled the forest like the sound of a cataract, and vanishing again aN pie /yX Se vanes wks a RON Misi = My 5 Kae oo Tess g 4 in a wail of unimaginable woe. Even the echoes, so ready to respond to every call, seemed frightened at this appalling outcry. Not one answered, for the sound _ itself seemed to fill the lonely world and to hush and startle all things. A hundred times before this, alone on the mountain top, on the wide sea, on the ice-bound northern wastes, or at mid- night in the unbroken forest, I had ae to feel the spirit of primal nature; [De ie to know what the first man felt in the pres- ence of boundless mystery. Here was my answer with a vengeance. I could get no~ nearer to primal man and beast and nature than to stand here in the snow and moon- light, with the desolate barren before me, the black woods all around, and that ap- palling voice of a great beast filling all the ° Fl hid night. And I confess that, though the sensa- aT ° . . Pa TAT) HG My tion was magnificent, it was not altogether ae Mit hi \ pleasant. My old primitive ancestors had ie lived so many centuries on the thin edge of /AiM flight and panic that their first impulse to | : : aa Mik ( run was still strong in my own heels; (MM A eh yal maeuamS RS 2 > my back was cold, and my nerves Mi aK os. Yk ; ; hn See: KG yl \ If f mene all-up on édge, jarred and ib OO Ny S a jangled as if some rough hand were Hs a if Phe bbing them with sand =e GANS rubbing them with sandpaper. It ;.->.--=uM G7 RAINY sas \N RAN mas all Over in an instant: but one can feel a lot in a small Ho G7” ARRAN ESOT \¢ Wi St l tA AE Wit Wisi" 11, fj “Udy ee Ze. Wz 4 Uj a Vif : ~ 68 moment when he is alone in the woods at night, and for the first time the howl of a great timber-wolf rolls over his head. Again the tense silence settled over the wilderness. The curious impres- sion of chiming silver bells was ringing in + Sh my ears when once more the terrible sound a". came rushing, tumbling, ululating through ‘” the startled woods. This time it was an- swered. From the woods far across the bar- ren a cry broke out; no echo, certainly, but the unmistakable voice of a big starving wolf. Another howl on my left; and from the low hills behind me and beyond the commooste a fourth uttered his cry of desola- tion. For-a half-hour I stood there, shiver- ing in spite of myself; now watching keenly over the barren, hoping to see the gather- ing of the savage pack; now calculating in the blessed silence whether that first hungry wolf could be following the trail I had made at dusk; and all the while wondering at the meaning of this fearful cry of woe, woe, woe, which seemed to fill all the world. Then it was all still again; the open barren lay white ‘That first hungry wolf . . . following the trail I had made at dusk’”’ s We yy nee iy oe ; . ie and cold under the moon; the black spruces stood huddled together in groups, waiting. Suddenly there was another sound. Far away on my left, and behind me, ihe a cry rang out from a distant barren — ffooo0-ow / ow ! ow! ow! No voice of woe this time, but a keen, eager summoning call that sang through the woods like a rifle bullet. Come, come, come, come! it seemed to say; but the impression was not one of articulate sound but only of indefinite feel- ing. A single eager yelp, the irrepressible outburst of a hungry young wolf, answered the new call. There was a sudden move- \ f ha ment on my right; a shadow broke out of } the woods, rolled swiftly across the open [ barren, and vanished in the black spruces. Silence settled again over the wil- derness, and I went slowly back | to camp. | Old Noel had awakened Ale cry of the wolves and {i a : Ail hurried out on my | ) trail, bringing the rifle. When we sat ee WE iy Wh Xs ) VAAL I Y ty WG 5, down before the fire again I went straight to the point. “Noel,” I said, “can a webs talleee Wol, “Talk? course he talk. Eve’t'ing talk in hees own way.” “Then what did that first wolf say, Noel ?” “ Oh, he say he hongry; lonely too, p’raps. - If you call dat way, hwolf he always come.” “ And that other wolf, Noel, way over to the southwest on the other barren, what did he say?” | “ Oh, he say, ‘Come-over here, bury apes said Noel; and, as is always the case when I am most interested and want to talk, not another word could I get out of him. At daylight I had stirred the fire and boiled the kettle and was away on the trail. One seldom really sleeps in the open during these intensely cold nights, but just dozes and wakes and feeds the fire and pulls his ~ blankets closer, and springs up rested, fresh and strong, in the morning. I hurried to the place where I had seen that shadow vanish in the woods, picked up the trail of a running wolf and followed it for miles, straight as a string, to a dense fir thicket on the sheltered side of a little barren. Here several cari- bou had rested awhile in the snow, a eh ae 2a ie ene . We Cry of ine Wwolr a printed page —a wolf had found them and, instead of hunting in wolf fashion, I" had circled to leeward and stalked and killed i{ one with the stealth of a lynx creeping ona _ hidden rabbit. It was undoubtedly his eager food cry that went singing through the win- “! 3 By ; ee 5 i” te = a ) es ter night and brought every hungry wolf within hearing to share the good luck that had fallen to him alone. I followed the trails all morning, and at noon was back again at the home camp, whither Noel had preceded me. Four hun- gry Indians were there, and Noel was feed- ing them full from my scant store. The last of my pork had vanished, and my tea and Noel’s tobacco seemed in a pitifully low state to one who knows how essential these things are in the northern winter; but though they were on their way out to plenty, these stranger Indians had appropriated my neces- sities as freely as they would have taken bark froma birch tree to light tiem tm When they had gone Noel and I sat down to talk. I was comparativel EO The Cry Of, OS ZA Kis ll Re. Wo Vim the woods and to the ways of wolves, and I expressed my eager wonder at what I had read in the snow. «Oh, “said “Noel, “dat’s noting waa. Ss > Just hwolf way; Injun way, too; share w’at he Sot, “So I see,” said I, thinking of my tea and pork. “ But, Noel, did you ever hear of the primitive, primordial beast ?”’ “What kind animal dat?” said) Neelwal interest, as he invariably is upon the rare occasions when I venture to become his teacher. “Why, don’t you see, Noel, the primordial beast is the original animal that Clote Scarpe created, the wolf and the caribou, with their savage instincts and greed and selfishness | and all that. Our social philosophers down yonder, who pretend to explain our curious civilization, tell us that all our trouble comes from the primordial wolf; that our fierce and savage competition —” “Wat dat ting—some tother beast dat live down your way?” demanded Noel. “Oh, no; competition is said to be the life of our trade,” I said dubi- ine Choir ously. “It means that when you have a little business I come along with a big- ger one and crowd you out, without think- } ing much of your wife and babies; and that : when you are hungry I buy all the meat in sight and charge you big prices, so as to get rich by making you poorer.” “And you tink dat come from hwolf?” said Noel indignantly. “ Tell me, what dat hwolf do when he find-um lot meat last night ?” sales called im the others before he had taken a mouthful himself,” I said honestly. “And what dem same caribou do when ieeold? ” “They make a ring against the wind or storm and put the weakest inside. Their bodies keep the little ones warm, and when danger comes the'big ones meet it first,” I answered, giving him back some of his own teaching. “Den why you call-um selfish? Why you call-um bad beasts? By cosh, now,” said , Noel, taking his ax and peering in- the Cry Or tently through the woods a a ee e,Wwolr :; ee Niet pec? log for our night fire, “‘when poor : Injun come live down yonder, I hope dat competition man gets a little more hwolf in “ns hees heart. /Yoov0-ow! ow! ow! ow!” And 7 again, in perfect imitation, the thrilling food cry of the big timber-wolf went singing through the still woods. Yi, Sit Wiggs AL = Ne ae) ‘ fe oa " J Bear Wild Folk One Dy Ome m [oor NDER my window, in the old at student days at Andover, a pair of rose-breasted grosbeaks built CG their nest 1n an apple-tree at : the corner of Bartlett Hall, and just beneath my favorite reading-seat. I watched them there with more than ordinary interest from the moment the site was chosen until the young birds were led away by their parents to learn the ways of the world. No better opportunity was ever given to study the life of a bird family; for I had only to turn my head away from the pile of books, and there was the nest with the mother bird standing by, so near that I could see her eyes wink. 79 O. Se Wild! FOlK I sat very quiet at the window, never climbed to the nest, spread food occasion- ally, and drove away sundry cats and ~ boys and one despicable egg-collector; saa and so it may be that the birds re- % garded me as a friend, and were less con- \ My strained than usual. Certainly they showed little fear of me, though shy enough with other men. Once, while I was reading a book on the old bench under the nest, the male, a gorgeous fellow, came down and perched on the chain between two posts behind me. After watching a moment with round, inquisitive eyes he came hitching and twittering along till within reach of my hand, where he turned his head from side to side and looked me all over, and twittered back as I talked to him softly. Another day, when I worked at my table, the female flew to the open window and called to me excitedly. I went to the win- dow at once, but saw nothing unusual. Still she zigzagged back and forth between my window and a thick lilac bush at the foot of the tree where her nest was, calling a continuous alarm-note. When I ran out she met me at the steps and led me straight to Wild FOlk One BY as the lilac, where, parting the leaves and branches, I found a cat hiding on a knot at the farther side of the : apple-tree, waiting with cold green eyes till SH SA the alarm should blow over. But I am get- Ne ting ahead of tor aN . g ahead of my story. Like many other birds, when engaged in any good work, the grosbeaks furnished a curious commentary on our human endeav- ors. The female did most of the work, and the male did all the celebrating. In collect- ing materials and in shaping the nest the female was busy as a bee in clover-blossom time, hurrying back and forth and doing an astonishing amount of work between sunrise and sunset. Meanwhile the male whistled and sang and frolicked about, bub- bling over like a bobolink with the joy of springtime, but doing no useful work whatever. When his mate came back with at new material he Wild FOlIK By One ‘ % \ CG ny ln ; aw CH | SSeS a > am = eI 82 d, Ml Wopyenril! ie would fly to meet her, fluttering about her, cheeping and singing, as if he were praising her for her diligence. Then he would look on with immense importance as she worked at the nest, rounding it with her own breast to give it the shape she wanted. As he bubbled over extravagantly in his praise her busy, silent air seemed to say, “Go ’way now with your blarney.” But she liked it, nevertheless, and when, in excess of zeal, he would bustle away and come back with one small straw, she would take it from his beak and work it in with her own abun- dant collection. When the material was at last arranged to suit her the two birds would stand together on a twig, and she seemed, from her voice and attitude and from his sudden dejection, to be scolding him for his idleness. The lecture ended, she would fly straight away to the foot of a bank where material was plen- tiful, and he would start just as diligently in another direction. Unfortunately he had to cross some chains swinging between the stone posts about the dormitories, and he could never cross a chain without lighting upon it. The impact of his flight would sometimes set the chain swaying slightly, and he enjoyed the new oe ae sensation of swinging, fluttering his