Id Que5l of 

 ^Waptonk 





« It was no surprise, therefore, but only the 



fulfilment of many years of quiet expectancy, 

 when I crept out of the low spruces away up 

 in the northern peninsula of Newfoundland, 

 //£tf^r//ti an( j f ounc j t] ie en d of my long quest. A sub- 

 dued chatter of wild voices had called to me 

 softly above the steady murmur of the river 

 as I stole through the woods to the salmon 

 pool in the early June morning. Following 

 the sounds, which seemed very near at first, 

 but which faded away like a will-o'-the-wisp 

 when I tried to find them, they led me away 

 from the river and out of the big woods to 

 where an unknown barren lay just awake 

 under the sunrise, greeting the intruder with 

 the silent, questioning look of the wilderness. 

 And there, close at hand in a little flashet, 

 was Waptonk the Wild, waiting quietly as 

 if he had always expected me. 



Still and secret as my approach had been, 

 with that curious unconscious effort to efface 

 himself that marks the going of a man or 

 an animal alone in the great wilderness, 

 Waptonk had been watching me for some 

 moments before I saw him. He was resting 



