244 
It was nearly noon when we overtook 
the party, to find the men busy with axes 
clearing the roadway, a recent wind storm 
having played havoc with what, at best, 
was little more than a trail. Our journey 
continued without adventure, save for the 
too frequent chopping of trees. The sun 
was just resting its rim upon the hardwoods 
to the west, when we pitched our tents 
beside a pool of water which, out of defer- 
ence to Wisconsin, we denominated a 
lake. 
While the bacon was frying and the 
grouse broiling, it fell to Emile and me to 
pick out the hunting-ground, which we 
located in a northwesterly direction from 
camp. We first passed through a rather 
open country, then a half mile of hard- 
RECREATION 
wood, with a big marsh intervening and a 
dense forest of virgin timber beyond. 
In the exuberance of my thoughts, when 
we started out the next morning, I neglected 
to condole with a sore body, and before 
we had reached the place of prospective 
action I had forgotten my long tramp of 
the day previous. We took the ridges and 
open places, the guide and I, while the 
others still-hunted and drove the ravines. 
This we continued until 1o o’clock, and 
without the slightest sign of game. Our 
party met at a point previously designated, 
and all had an equally discouraging report 
to make. So we decided upon a change 
and took a northeasterly direction. The 
country was unknown to us, even to the 
guide, who had previously explained that 

WHERE THE SUN PEEPS INTO WISCONSIN’S OLD MILITARY ROAD AND THE RUFFED 
GROUSE BASKS IN ITS BED OF SAND 
