192 BIRCH BROWSINGS. 



the wrong side of the ridge, into what we afterwards 

 learned was the valley of Alder Creek. 



We now made good time, and before many minutes 

 I again saw the mimic sky glance through the trees. 

 As we approached the lake a solitary woodchuck, the 

 first wild animal we had seen since entering the woods, 

 sat crouched upon the root of a tree a few feet from the 

 water, apparently completely nonplussed by the unex- 

 pected appearance of danger on the land side. All 

 retreat was cut off, and he looked his fate in the face 

 without flinching. I slaughtered him just as a savage 

 would have done, and from the same motive, — I 

 wanted his carcass to eat. 



The mid-afternoon sun was now shining upon the 

 lake, and a low, steady breeze drove the little waves 

 rocking to the shore. A herd of cattle were browsing 

 on the other side, and the bell of the leader sounded 

 across the water. In these solitudes its clang was wild 

 and musical. 



To try the trout was the first thing in order. On a 

 rude raft of logs which we found moored at the shore, 

 and which with two aboard shipped about a foot of 

 water, we floated out and wet our first fly in Thomas's 

 Lake ; but the trout refused to jump, and, to be frank, 

 not more than a dozen and a half were caught during 

 our stay. Only a week previous, a party of three had 

 taken in a few hours all the fish they could carry out 

 of the woods, and had nearly surfeited their neighbors 

 with trout. But from some cause they now refused to 



