no Wilderness Ways. 



fire, and the woods are all still, a fierce screech breaks 

 suddenly out of the darkness just behind your wind- 

 break of boughs. You jump to your feet and grab 

 your rifle; but Simmo, who is down on his knees 

 before the fire frying pork, only turns his head to 

 listen a moment, and says : " Up)veekis catch-um 

 rabbit dat time." Then he gets closer to the fire, for 

 the screech was not pleasant, and goes on with his 

 cooking. 



You are more curious than he, or you want the big 

 cat's skin to take home with you. You steal away 

 towards the cry, past the little commoosie, or shelter, 

 that you made hastily at sundown when the trail 

 ended. There, with your back to the fire and the 

 commoosie between, the light does not dazzle your 

 eyes ; you can trace the shadows creeping in and out 

 stealthily among the underbrush. But if Upweekis 

 is there — and he probably is — you do not see him. 

 He is a shadow among the shadows. Only there is 

 this difference: shadows move no bushes. As you 

 watch, a fir-tip stirs ; a bit of snow drops down. You 

 gaze intently at the spot. Then out of the deep 

 shadow two living coals are suddenly kindled. They 

 grow larger and larger, glowing, flashing, burning 

 holes into your eyes till you brush them swiftly with 

 your hand. A shiver runs over you, for to look into 



