224 BIRCH BROWSINGS. 



perhaps the quotations of the cattle market. 

 They came up to me, and eagerly licked my 

 hand, clothes, and gun. Salt was what they 

 were after, and they were ready to swallow 

 anything that contained the smallest percent- 

 age of it. They were mostly yearlings, and 

 as sleek as moles. They had a very gamy 

 look. We were afterwards told that, in the 

 spring, the farmers round about turn into 

 these woods their young cattle, which do 

 not come out again till fall. They are then 

 in good condition, not fat, like grass-fed 

 cattle, but trim and supple, like deer. Once 

 a month the owner hunts them up and salts 

 them. They have their beats, and seldom 

 wander beyond well-defined limits. It was 

 interesting to see them feed. They browsed 

 on the low limbs and bushes, and on the 

 various plants, munching at everything with- 

 out any apparent discrimination. 



They attempted to follow me, but I escaped 

 them by clambering down some steep rocks. 

 I now found myself gradually edging down 

 the side of the mountain, keeping around it 

 in a spiral manner, and scanning the woods 

 and the shape of the ground for some en- 

 couraging hint or sign. Finally the woods 

 became more open, and the descent less 



