A TRAMP IN THE CATSKILLS 81 



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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 without 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 moun- 

 tain, keeping around it in a spiral manner, and scan- 

 ning the woods and the shape of the ground for some 

 encouraging hint or sign. Finally the woods became 

 more open, and the descent less rapid. The trees were 

 remarkably straight and uniform in size. Black birches, 

 the first I had seen, were very numerous. I felt encour- 

 aged. Listening attentively, I caught, from a breeze 

 just lifting the drooping leaves, a sound that I willingly 

 believed was made by a bullfrog. On this hint, I tore 

 down through the woods at my highest speed. Then I 

 paused and listened again. This time there was no 

 mistaking it; it was the sound of frogs. Much elated, 

 I rushed on. By and by I could hear them as I ran. 

 Pthrung, pthrung, croaked the old ones; pug, pug, 

 shrilly joined in the smaller fry. 



Then I caught, through the lower trees, a gleam 

 of blue, which I first thought was distant sky. A 

 second look and I knew it to be water, and in a moment 

 more I stepped from the woods and stood upon the 

 shore of the lake. I exulted silently. There it was at 

 last, sparkling in the morning sun, and as beautiful 

 as a dream. It was so good to come upon such open 



