172 WAKE-ROBIN 
were ready to swallow anything that contained the | 
smallest percentage of it. They were mostly year- 
lings and as sleek as moles. They had a very gamy 
look. We were afterwards told that, in the spring, 
the farmers round about turn into these woods their 
young cattle, which do not come out again till fall. \ 
They are then in good condition, —not fat, like 
grass-fed cattle, but trim and supple, like deer. 
Once a month the owner hunts them up and salts 
them. They have their beats, and seldom wander 
beyond well-defined limits. It was interesting to 
see them feed. They browsed on the low limbs 
and bushes, and on the various plants, munching at 
everything without any apparent discrimination. 
They attempted to follow me, but I escaped them 
by clambering down some steep rocks. I now 
found myself gradually edging down the side of the 
mountain, keeping around it in a spiral manner, 
and scanning the woods and the shape of the ground 
for some encouraging hint or sign. Finally the 
woods became more open, and the descent less rapid. 
The trees were remarkably straight and uniform in 
size. Black birches, the first I had seen, were very 
numerous. I felt encouraged. Listening atten- 
tively, I caught, from a breeze just lifting the droop- 
ing leaves, a sound that I willingly believed was 
made by a bullfrog. On this hint, I tore down 
through the woods at my highest speed. Then I 
paused and listened again. This time there was no 
mistaking it; it was the sound of frogs. Much 
elated, I rushed on. By and by I could hear them 
