214 SPORT INDEED 



The night of the second day was one which is now 

 rather firmly fixed in my memory. The wind came 

 from the north in true hurricane style and brought 

 with it weather that might accommodate a variety of 

 tastes. Snow, sleet, and rain whirled fiercely in our 

 faces, while vivid flashes of lightning and their 

 attendant peals of thunder gave a startling emphasis 

 to the storm. Trees fell by the thousand, and the 

 next morning our tent, which we had pitched in an 

 open camping spot, was encircled by their trunks and 

 broken branches. During the night the wild water- 

 fowl were scurrying southward with express-train 

 speed — speed which was somewhat aided by the 

 wings of the hurricane. We heard the honk of the 

 geese, though at times it was drowned by the cries of 

 the small wading birds — the yellow legs, gray snipe 

 and plover. The wild ducks, too, kept up an incessant 

 whistle mingled with the whir of their swift-rushing 

 wings. 



The storm was the opening blast of Winter — a note 

 of warning, as it were, from Old Boreas, telling us we 

 must get out of that country or be frozen in. And it 

 looked that way, for no sooner had the storm passed 

 than we found the cold close at its heels, and it did 

 not take it long to freeze the river tight along the 

 shores. Our Indian guides looked glum, consoling us 

 with the remark : " Heap cold comin' ; big winter 

 soon ! " So we finally concluded to turn our backs to 



