34 OUT WITH THE BIRDS 



toasted on a cherry fork over the willow coals 

 of an open fire, have a flavor all their own. 

 Then I banked the fire well with buffalo chips 

 — in this case the same had been left by the 

 ranch cattle of the previous season, but they 

 were just as good fuel as the original, and 

 probably more plentiful — then I made my bed. 

 This consisted of two poles, placed about two 

 feet apart, with a thick layer of snowberry 

 browse, soft and spongy, laid across them, tops 

 in and butts out, the matting thickest at hip and 

 shoulder. The kodak case was added for a pil- 

 low, and it was ready. 



While I had been engaged thus, four big 

 hares, with their white breeches and gray coats 

 appearing most uncanny in the darkness, visited 

 me, stood high on their hind feet, and ogled 

 wonderingly. In the dusk, and long after it, the 

 geese in many flocks returned with loud clamor 

 and dropped into the ponds in various parts of 

 the marsh. About nine o'clock I lay down by my 

 fire — not with any anticipation of sleeping 

 much; for it was freezing stiffly, and I had no 

 blanket — but to listen to the night sounds, to get 

 first hand the night story of the life in the lonely 

 places, be a sentient part of it, live it. 



