196 ON THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS 
and the fish making a den entrance into the soft 
bank. 
They were certainly two fine children that 
Brownie and his mate drove into the water and 
taught to swim. It was a real pleasure to catch 
fish for them, to ride them around the pend on 
one’s shoulders, to pull on a stick with, to cuff and 
push down the bank. Brownie spent a happy 
summer in that quiet, wood-shadowed pond, but 
he didn’t forget the fun he had as a boy on the 
first long trip abroad, and he took his family more 
than once adventuring, especially up into the lake 
where the salmon were. It was in this lake that 
he and his mate decided to winter. But before 
winter really set in Brownie had a desire to go 
once more over the divide, and see his old home 
pond. If he wanted to show off his progeny to 
their grandparents, who can blame him? I don’t 
say he did—but, anyhow, he led the way over the 
long trail. A light November snow had fallen 
the night before they crossed, and the family left 
a trail a born and bred New Yorker could have 
followed through the woods. They couldn’t help 
it, of course, and, indeed, they had no conscious- 
