FOLLOWING 4JL 
thump on the ribs. As he ran yelp- 
ing away I fired my rifle over his 
head, and sent the good club whirl- 
ing over the crust like a boomerang 
to knock his heels from under him. 
A fresh outburst of howls inspired 
me with hope. Perhaps he would 
remember now to let deer alone for 
the winter. 
Above the noise of canine lamenta- 
tion I caught the faint click of snow- 
shoes, and hid again to catch the 
cur's owner at his contemptible 
work. But the sound stopped far 
back on the trail at the sudden up- 
roar. Through the trees I caught 
glimpses of a fur cap and a long gun 
and the hawk face of Old Wally, 
147 
WINTER TRAILS 
