64 WILD BROTHER 
“Show’s over fer the night,” announced the 
hostler. “Next performance will be at seven- 
thirty to-morrer mornin’. Buy your tickets now 
and avoid the rush!” 
The next day we continued our journey, and 
about noon came to the highlands that overlook 
the valley where lie the Schoodic Lakes, which 
form the headwaters of the St. Croix River. 
Stretching south, far into New Brunswick, lay an 
unbroken forest. 
Our camp stands in an open field some distance 
above the shore of one of the smaller lakes. Quite 
near it are a farmhouse, several farm buildings, a 
club house and a number of small camps. All were 
under the management and watchful care of the 
farmer, a genial gentleman of the old school, called 
by his admiring sportsmen friends, “ the squire.”’ 
Visitors at all the camps and the club house get 
their meals at the squire’s. 
The open land of this little settlement is sur- 
rounded by woods, which at that time were well 
peopled with the usual wood-folk of the Maine for- 
est. Deer were plentiful; the woods were full of 
porcupines. Foxes and raccoons were often seen. 
Black bears frequently came into the clearing and 
worried the sheep. Mink and otter frequented the 
shores of lakes and brooks; and often in the sum- 
mer-time the moose came in to feed on the lily-pads 
