G4 EVERYDAY ADVENTURE- 



man's tracks for a long distance., perhaps out of 

 curiosity, perhaps in the hope of finding food. As I 

 looked at the trail of this little killer. I was glad that 

 he was not larger. If weasels, or those other killers, 

 the shrews., were as large as a dog., no man's life 

 would be safe out of doors. 



I explored so far that the sun had set before I 

 turned back for the cabin. Suddenly, from far over 

 where the tree-trunks were inked black against the 

 golden afterglow. I heard a hoot, deep rather than 

 loud. "Hoo, hoo-hoo, hoo, hoo!" it went, and some- 

 times. "Hoo-hoo-hoo!" Usually., though, the second 

 note was doubled. It meant that the great horned owl 

 with its speckled gray back and white collar was 

 hunting rabbits through the silent woods. If it had 

 been the barred owl. the third note would have 

 been doubled and the last note would have had a 

 drop in its caden 



In the frosty twilight I hurried along the winding 

 path, back to the cabin and a long, dreamy evening 

 before the roaring fire. First came a wonderful ex- 

 hibition of free-hand cooking. Then I piled the great 

 fireplace well up the chimney with masses of pitch- 

 pine knots and stumps that I had dug up in the dry 

 bogs. All of the sapwood had decayed., leaving 

 nothing except the resinous bones of the fallen trees. 

 They burned at the touch of a match, with a red 

 smoky flame. Above them I banked dry lengths of 

 swamp maple and post oak. Then, drawing up a 



rt rocker well within the circle of the heat. I settled 

 D to read and dream in front of the red coals. 



