THE STREETS OF THE MOUNTAINS 



Indians do not catch them floundering 

 belly deep among the lower rifts. I have 

 a pair of horns, inconceivably heavy, that 

 were borne as late as a year ago by a very 

 monarch of the flock whom death over- 

 took at the mouth of Oak Creek after a^ 

 week of wet snow. He met it as a king 

 should, with no vain effort or trembling, 

 and it was wholly kind to take him so with 

 four of his following rather than that the 

 night prowlers should find him. 



There is always more life abroad in the 

 winter hills than one looks to find, and 

 much more in evidence than in summer 

 weather. Light feet of hare that make no 

 print on the forest litter leave a wondrously 

 plain track in the snow. We used to look 

 and look at the beginning of winter for 

 the birds to come down from the pine 

 lands ; looked in the orchard and stubble ; 

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