go Wilderness Ways. 



as the king should fly, to his own Httle ones far away 

 on the mountain. 



Weeks before, I had had my introduction to Old 

 Whitehead, as Gillie called him, on the Madawaska. 

 We were pushing up river on our way to the wilder- 

 ness, when a great outcry and the bang-bang of a gun 

 sounded just ahead. Dashing round a wooded bend, 

 we came upon a man with a smoking gun, a boy up 

 to his middle in the river, trying to get across, and, on 

 the other side, a black sheep running about baaing 

 at every jump. 



" He 's taken the lamb ; he 's taken the lamb ! " 

 shouted the boy. Following the direction of his 

 pointing finger, I saw Old Whitehead, a splendid 

 bird, rising heavily above the tree-tops across the 

 clearing. Reaching back almost instinctively, I 

 clutched the heavy rifle which Gillie put into my 

 hand and jumped out of the canoe ; for with a rifle 

 one wants steady footing. It was a long shot, but not 

 so very difficult ; Old Whitehead had got his bearings 

 and was moving steadily, straight away. A second after 

 the report of the rifle, we saw him hitch and swerve 

 in the air; then two white quills came floating down, 

 and as he turned we saw the break in his broad white 

 tail. And that was the mark that we knew him by 

 ever afterwards. 



