EEE AW DIUBLOINe BULGER GIN 7 
down to 37 degrees. ‘The rain is falling steadily, turning into intermittent 
snow flurries. Better to be out in the weather, however, than to sit lazily 
before the fire all day. It is just the right kind of a day for a brisk walk 
to the end of the point, where we may have a splendid view of the surf. 
By turning south, we could circle around Rush Lake, checking up on two 
of our sets, and be back in time for lunch after a nice constitutional of ten 
miles. “Chat is our plan. We watch the waves and listen to the wind 
and enjoy the rain driving into our faces. We strike an old lumber road 
and turn south towards Rush Lake. Here the seeds of revision are sown. 
Unexpectedly, we come upon a large doe freshly killed, not thoroughly 
stiffened: tongue and eyes in good condition, rump eaten out, but no other 
meat taken from the carcass. “The only other visible marks are a slit in 
the top of one ear and flecks of blood on the neck just behind the ears. 
Leaves and twigs cover the head and rump. I[ll-advisedly, we remove them 
to examine the carcass and do not replace them before resuming our walk. 
In spite of the weather, neither of us requires much persuasion to be con- 
vinced that a camera should be trained upon the kill. 
At the shore of Rush Lake, a Bald Eagle jumps from a tree close at 
hand and crosses the lake. Eleven o’clock finds us at the nearest set. “This 
is the camera which recorded the partridge. It has not been sprung. Five 
minutes later we are at what we call number four set. Here we have had 
no success and today we find that a branch falling on the trip wire has 
fired the flash. ‘This is the camera we will take to the kill. 
Further along the shore, a long, dead tree extends into the water. 
It has been that way for years. It is here that twice this month we watched 
three otters and because of that glimpse placed a piece of fish offered for 
their consideration. Now we find it gone. Who can say what took it? 
We lug our apparatus back to the cabin, stop for a hasty lunch, and 
then move out into the wet again, retracing the morning’s course. On 
the way, near a homesteader’s clearing, our number one set is inspected. 
Nothing has touched the fish bait. Up from the grass in the clearing 
flushes a Sharp-tailed Grouse. It is my first sight of this bird in the Upper 
Peninsula. A big buck crosses our trail as we near the end of the point 
and our approach to the kill is greeted by the bitter complaints of a Raven. 
His feast has been interrupted and he hovers around only momentarily 
before flying off. “The deer’s eye is gone and the hair has been entirely 
cleaned off of a spot four inches or so in diameter just behind her shoulder. 
It is not easy to make this set. We must keep the camera and plate and 
powder dry and work fast in order that darkness will not overtake us. 
In the midst of operations our attention is attracted by the honking of a 
large flock of geese flying low, in picturesque formation, having the appear- 
ance of overlapping V’s. “They look very white and pink. Perhaps that 
is just the effect of the lighting. 
