Reminiscence of a Stay-at-Home 
By S. W. LIPPINCOTT 
A NYONE who thinks that an association 
with the woods is exhausted with the 
ending of the adventure or even with 
the subsequent recounting of the unusual inci¬ 
dents thereof is either a tyro or a dilettante. 
The influence of unharnessed nature is princi¬ 
pally upon the so called subconscious mind and 
is, or ought to be, too deeply impressed to be 
soon forgotten and too intangible to admit of 
exhaustive description; therefore, a diary of 
each day's employment is a mere preface to what 
actually took place and doesn’t allude to, or 
touch upon, the pleasure one has stored away for 
future enjoyment. 
For instance, while communing with my pipe 
on one of the cool, invigorating evenings of 
early summer, and looking down upon a well 
wooded suburban landscape which was being 
slowly circumscribed by the lengthening and 
deepening shadows, the echo of the stroke of 
an axe, with which some rustic was engaged in 
the- distance, was the motif—as Wagnerians 
would call it—which promptly transported my 
thoughts away off to the woods—into quiet 
places where I had been when crisp evening air 
and. the axe echo had been in conjunction on a 
previous occasion, and there had reached me 
across a lake or over wooded hills when re¬ 
turning to camp after a day’s journey into deeper 
solitude. 
I could distinctly see and follow the trail lead¬ 
ing to a home camp of several years ago, with 
its ups and downs, its pitfalls, spring holes and 
even some unusual trees which bordered it, and 
1 felt sure, were I physically there, that I could 
point to the interesting spot where on one occas¬ 
ion some moose left the imprint of their hoofs 
while, preparing to flee, they probably peered at 
us through the foliage as we unknowingly ap¬ 
proached them. 
I do not know why this particular camp should 
have been called up before me by the genii of 
the out-of-doors in preference to one of the 
many others I have since inhabited; but it was 
paramount on the evening alluded to, and the 
following forgotten or pigeon-holed incidents un¬ 
wound themselves in response to the concomitant 
sensations I was then experiencing: 
The camp was pitched upon the shore of a 
very beautiful, almost oblong, lake in the Lau- 
rentian Hills of the Province of Quebec. The 
surrounding forest of intermingled evergreen 
and hardwood trees was so jealous of this, then- 
charge, that the winds were scarcely permitted 
to play upon its surface wherein the reflections 
of these dignified guardians, surmounted by the 
sky of deep blue, were so accurately portrayed 
that, in a photograph, the objects and the re¬ 
flections could not be distinguished. 
One evening, after catching sufficient trout for 
a hungry man’s supper, I was sitting at the 
water s edge with the hope of seeing a caribou 
or moose swim the lake, when presently to my 
surprise and disgust I saw instead a canoe pro¬ 
pelled by the rhythmic strokes of two occupants 
slowly approaching my camp. After beaching 
their canoe the sportsman and guide—for such 
they clearly were—approached me and the for¬ 
mer introduced himself in such a gentlemanly 
manner that my backwoods hostility to human 
beings was allayed. He was a handsome man 
of some thirty years of age whose loose fitting 
hunting suit was in excellent taste and very be¬ 
coming to his good build, and the impression he 
made was wholly favorable. We compared notes 
as to the date of our arrival in the woods, our 
luck with rod and gun. and discussed some re¬ 
cent important events in the States. Finally, 
he asked if T was alone, and, upon being in¬ 
formed that two guides were my only compan¬ 
ions, requested permission to share my shelter 
for the night; and I, being won over from my 
jealousy of the quiet, immediately consented. 
Our hunger appeased, the camp-fire replenished 
and our pipes lighted, conversation was begun 
by niy guest’s remark, “I congratulate you upon 
being alone.” I informed him that it was my 
custom to be absolutely selfish when seeking 
recreation, for at such times I did not propose 
to conform to law, custom, policy or any other 
rule of civilization excepting in so far as such 
limitations had become my second nature. 
THE sportsman’s GUIDE. 
