AND OTHER SKETCHES 279 



devoted to a substantial breakfast of tea or coffee, trout 

 and pork, and occasionally a hot scone as a sort of top- 

 ping-off relish. Ten minutes devoted to getting our 

 shooting irons in order, and by six o'clock at latest we 

 were in our canoes and headed for the sections allotted 

 to us to watch. Sometimes it was a vigil on the water 

 and oftimes on a runway in the big woods that surround 

 Eedstone Lake. Have you ever played the sentry for a 

 couple of hours on a runway? If you have you will swear 

 to the correctness of what I am about to say, and if you 

 know nothing about it you have a new experience to par- 

 ticipate in. 



I know of nothing more solemn than the stillness of the 

 forest. I do not mean a hundred acre patch, but great 

 woods stretching for miles and miles on three sides of 

 you and on the fourth an arm of the lake three-quarters 

 of a mile in width with two hundred feet of perpendicular 

 rock guarding its opposite shore. Autumn's flaming torch 

 has tinted every leaf but that of the evergreens, with 

 gorgeous hues and as the light and shade play upon the 

 waving branches, one looks upon a picture that neither 

 ancient nor modern painter could truthfully portray with- 

 out being charged with exaggeration. I looked upon 

 maple trees that were glittering monuments of gold and 

 silver and gems, every hue of the rainbow etched upon 

 their leaves and each ripple of the summer-like breeze 

 revealing new tints and gorgeous combinations of glor- 

 ious coloring, until the eye became almost weary with 

 the blaze of glory and rested itself by turning to the 

 green of the pines and cedar. 



Here you stand, rifle in hand, waiting for the sound of 

 your hounds ' musical notes, knowing that when the game 

 is afoot, the deep roar of Leader or the tremulous vibra- 

 tions of Mike's eager tongue will echo from mountain 

 top and over valley and water. If the game heads your 

 way, be sharp of ear and quick of eye ! Bringing down a 

 deer running at full speed from the hounds is a trick that 

 any marksman may be satisfied with performing. True, 

 a deer is big of body, but he is also marvellously swift 



