CHAPTER EIGHTH 



A WINfER-NIGHFS 

 OUTING 



long since I was asked and not 

 for the first time if I could date the 

 beginning of my taste for natural history pur- 

 suits or give any incident that appeared to 

 mark a turning-point in my career. 



It did not seem possible to do this, on first 

 consideration ; but a recent living over of days 

 gone by recalled an incident which happened 

 before I was eleven years old, and, as it was 

 almost my first regular outing that smacked of 

 adventure, it is probable that it impressed me 

 more forcibly than any earlier or, indeed, later 

 events. 



Heavy and long-continued rains had re- 

 sulted in a freshet, and then three bitter cold 

 days had converted a wide reach of mead- 

 ows into a frozen lake. Happier conditions 



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