THE ADIRONDACKS 91 
eighth one, which was an old male, was killed with 
smooth pebble stones, my shot having run short. 
The wounded bird ran under a pile of brush, like a 
frightened hen. Thrusting a forked stick down 
through the interstices, I soon stopped his breathing. 
Wild pigeons were quite numerous also. These 
latter recall a singular freak of the sharp-shinned 
hawk. A flock of pigeons alighted on the top of a 
dead hemlock standing in the edge of aswamp. I 
got over the fence and moved toward them across 
an open space. I had not taken many steps when, 
on looking up, I saw the whole flock again in motion 
flying very rapidly around the butt of a hill. Just 
then this hawk alighted on the same tree. I 
stepped back into the road and paused a moment, 
in doubt which course to go. At that instant the 
little hawk launched into the air and came as 
straight as an arrow toward me. I looked in amaze- 
ment, but in less than half a minute he was within 
fifty feet of my face, coming full tilt as if he had 
sighted my nose. Almost in self-defense I let fly 
one barrel of my gun, and the mangled form of the 
audacious marauder fell literally between my feet. 
Of wild animals, such as bears, panthers, wolves, 
wildcats, etc., we neither saw nor heard any in 
the Adirondacks. ‘A howling wilderness,” Tho- 
reau says, “seldom ever howls. The howling is 
chiefly done by the imagination of the traveler.” 
Hunter said he often saw bear-tracks in the snow, 
but had never yet met Bruin. Deer are more or 
less abundant everywhere, and one old sportsman 
