8o Reminiscences of 



into the depths of the forest again, and revel in the 

 allurements belonging thereto. Would I enjoy it as 

 much as before? Yes, I am sure I would, but the tur- 

 moils of later responsibilities are upon me, and it is 

 more difficult to pull away. But how fragrant the 

 memory! How it softens the asperities of life. 



WITH advancing years, one becomes more averse 

 to the rough features of sporting life enjoyed 

 in early days, and more reluctant to face the nipping 

 cold, and rest upon unyielding beds, and so in late 

 years I have reared comfortable abodes in the wilder- 

 ness of the Rangeleys in Maine, where I could com- 

 bine some semblance of personal comforts in the midst 

 of the primitive forest. There I have made annual 

 and sometimes prolonged visits for nearly half a cen- 

 tury, where I have been able to observ-e the many 

 peculiar features of the Fontinalis family, and to 

 gratify my taste for solitary rambles in the unbroken 

 forest, especially in the inclement seasons of winter 

 when the charms dispute in attractiveness with all 

 others. 



When stalking deer in the open months of No- 

 vember and December — at which time the snow is 

 likely to be moderately plentiful in Maine, through 

 which, soft and yielding, even to a depth of two 

 feet, the deer have no sort of difficulty in travelling 

 rapidly, and at a speed beyond the possibilities of 

 a stalker upon snowshoes — the stalker must depend 

 wholly upon stealing upon an animal which possesses 

 the sense of scent and hearing far keener than human 

 possession, although it may be doubted if it has a 



