Climhint; on to]) ot il ni\ eve caught the \ie\v ot as lovely 

 a spot for hii; game to i'ecd in as conUl well be iiuai;ined. 

 The water had been drawn off durinj; the late spring, 

 and a luxinioiis growth of swale qrass, cranl)errv bnshes 

 and youn^^- alder shoots had sprung u]) in wild and wanton 

 profusion. 



I sat me down on the dam and let my senses wallow 

 in the sight. A stiff breeze was blowing, swaying the 

 tall grasses into waves of graceful motion and bringing to 

 my ear a gentle rustling sound — a twittering /'/a;/m/wd), 

 as it were, in one of Nature's pas/ora/es, and w liicli all 

 lovers of her rural melodies will recognize and appreciate. 



After my fancy had played awhile it ran up against 

 the thought: "What a tempting sanctuary is this for 

 big game ! Surely it won't be long without its antlered 

 heads and arched necks." Instinctively, I crept behind 

 some bushes and watched and waited. Fifteen or twenty 

 minutes passed and without my expectations being filled. 

 Then I thought of my tin cup of bouillon, and, fearing it 

 would be spoiled, reluctantl}' left the enticing spot and 

 traveled back over the logs to where the guide was wait- 

 ing for me. 



After drinking m\- bouillon 1 l(jld the guide how- 

 near the dam was; what a wonderfully attractive spot for 

 game it nnist be, told him to lake ni\- rille and go u]) and 

 look at some big moose tracks that I had found, and I 

 would boil another cup of water for his dinner while he 

 was gone. The tire had l)urned down low. I put on 

 more wood and sat and watched the roaring blaze, and 

 whistled while supreme contentment oozed out of me 



3.S 



