74 ON THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS 
or the snow, to be ever alert, watchful, ready. 
‘His was the Boy Scout motto—‘ Be prepared.” 
If she had been rearing him in the deep woods, 
far from’ mankind, he would have learned, no 
doubt, to flee from the smell of a man on the 
wind, or even from a man’s tracks in the mud— 
to flee, perhaps, miles and miles to another forest. 
But here on the Berkshire reservation a few men 
—the keeper, his assistants, the owner and his 
friends—were always passing about, and no harm 
came from them. Indeed, in winter when the 
snow was very deep, the men would come into the 
swamp dragging loads of hay on a sled, and leave 
it there for the moose to eat. Besides, there was 
no way to flee very far, because of the great fence. 
So Old Bill (of course, he wasn’t called Old Bill 
then, nor even Willie) was never taught to flee 
actively from man, nor greatly to dread him— 
only to be cautious and slip into cover when the 
man scent came down wind. 
But one day strange things began to happen, 
alarming things. Many men—strange men— 
appeared on the reservation, and many and 
strange horses, and there was running and shout- 
