x FOREWORD 



when the huge mass of the charging elephant 

 burst asunder the vine-tangled branches. 



The beauty and charm of the wilderness are 

 his for the asking, for the edges of the wilderness 

 lie close beside the beaten roads of present 

 travel. He can see the red splendor of desert 

 sunsets, and the unearthly glory of the after 

 glow on the battlements of desolate mountains. 

 In sapphire gulfs of ocean he can visit islets, 

 above which the wings of myriads of sea-fowl 

 make a kind of shifting cuneiform script in the 

 air. He can ride along the brink of the stu 

 pendous cliff- walled canyon, where eagles soar 

 below him, and cougars make their lairs on the 

 ledges and harry the big-horned sheep. He can 

 journey through the northern forests, the home 

 of the giant moose, the forests of fragrant and 

 murmuring life in summer, the iron-bound and 

 melancholy forests of winter. 



The joy of living is his who has the heart to 

 demand it. 



THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 



SAGAMORE HILL, January 1, 1916. 



