222 A SPORTSMAN'S EDEN. 



most perfectly ideal lake of the woods, frost- 

 bound, snow-clad, set in dark solemn pines as in 

 a frame, through which the red glow of evening 

 forces its way into the twilight of the woods. 

 Here the moose has found his mates, and here, 

 thoroughly tired, we lunch at about 3.30, having 

 been going without snow-shoes since 7 a.m. 

 Never before did I realize the value of fat. 

 Tired, and in the severe cold, my stomach loathed 

 even the comparatively lean breakfast-bacon in 

 my pocket, and craved for the solid fat in Jocko's 

 brown fist. 



' Indian right, you see ; lean meat no good for 

 hunting, all very well in town ; but salt bad. 

 Indians never had colds before they used to eat 

 salt,' he muttered, pecking away with a stick at 

 the ice beneath his feet to get a drink. Still as 

 the woods seem, and empty of bird life, we had 

 not stood five minutes eating our hurried lunch 

 before there was a twitter in the branches above 

 us, and looking up, I saw we were observed by 

 half a dozen pairs of bright hungry eyes belonging 

 to blue-tits and golden-crested wrens. No doubt 

 they did well on our crumbs when we had gone. 

 Poor little mites ! they seemed so tiny to be out 

 alone in the snow in those great gloomy woods. 



Having found the moose, Jocko proposed to 

 return, but to this I could not consent. To-day 



