RECONNAISSANCE 



We call his work reconnaissance: 

 A shorter, uglier word perchanoo, 

 Would better oerve the new man's uoe 

 To circulate hio heartfelt viewa. 

 When first he hits the higher hillo 

 And eufforo pedatory chills. 



At first each separate "forty" seems 



A mile across; each "corner" gleams 



A diamond in a world of night: 



The tyro thinks: "Thio run's a fright, 



I ' 11 never see the camp again - 



My Kingdon for an aeroplane! 



His legs are stiff, his feet are sore, 



He carries bruises by the score; 



Each day's a crises in hio life, 



An aeon of unending strife: 



And evon ao at night he dreams, 



She cook, with "Breakfast ready", screams. 



He curses out the "rotten chick", 

 And figures he's clean out of luolc, 

 Nursoo a grouch exceeding glum 

 And wishes he had never oome; 

 Like Job, his last despairing cry: 

 "1*11 curso the government, and die! " 



But as the season wears along 



He finds he's growing hard and strong, 



The steepest peaks with glee attacks 



And gaily, skillfully he tracks 



The elusive contour to its death 



Nor pauses once to gasp for breath. 



His attitude is altered quite, 



The work's a cinch, the world is bright, 



He has a glance for towering trees, 



For rocks and streams, the mountain breeze 



For him is musical, he'd fain 



A-cruising all his days remain. 



And when he's ordered back to town 

 And on some district settled down, 

 He'll say: "This ranger Job's all right, 

 You get to sleep in bed at night, 

 But I'd sure like another ohanco 

 At working en reconnaissance." 



W. P. Lawson. 

 .' ." Oila ITevrs Letter. 



