A Day on the Crust 



crumbs being scattered here and there over 

 the snow. After January ist the sports- 

 man may be sure that it is dangerous to 

 shoot and eat the ruffed grouse, for in the 

 latter part of winter its food consists largely 

 of buds and berries that embitter and poison 

 its flesh. 



When I came to the river I found the 

 winter lodges of the muskrats all domed 

 and shining with the crust. Some of them 

 looked larger than a haycock under the 

 mass of snow that had piled upon them. 

 I cut a stout stick, broke down through the 

 crust to the top of one of them, and rapped 

 sharply on the roof. Immediately after- 

 ward I heard a faint splash, as the rats in 

 the lodge dived from their warm beds into 

 the icy waters of the river. 



For two miles I followed the snow-cov- 

 ered bed of the river. It was better and 

 more novel than skating. Then I branched 

 off to the north, threading my way through 

 the big swamp known as the "Dug-way," 

 and had the good fortune to see a hare tak- 

 ing a nap in the sun under the roots of an 

 upturned stump. He heard me about the 

 same time that I saw him, and was off with 



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