HAT an ideal day for a long hard hunt in the big woods! Conditions could not have been better, but how far from idea! that day would have been for the pursuit of any other sport. Long ere the first peep of light proclaimed the dawn, moccasined feet pressed the west-wending trail and miles separated a pair of eager sportsmen from the home camp when the woods awoke.

Mord's voice, "For she's ma daisy," and the rattle of tin dishes from which. deer's liver and hash with steaming coffee and hot biscuits had been hungrily divorced, belonged to a period two hours back.

A sighing breath among the treetops barred off the gentle swish of steadily falling rain, which frequently gave place to flurries of sleet until the forest murmured dreamy strains of an enchanting andante, that gave promise in its increasing volume of an allegro and presto when the powers of nature should burst from restraint.

All night the storm had been gathering, stars fled away one by one at the approach of black-winged clouds and trees and underbrush shed tears upon the earth, lamenting the fickle affection of the god of day, until sodden and silent leaves and grasses grateful to the foot, facilitated stealthy progress among swamps and over hogbacks through the hunting grounds.

What if a swaying branch occasionally did feel about in the darkness, locate the space between one's bare neck and shirt collar and deliberately insert there a half pint of shivercompelling slush, draw back and gently wipe off all lingering wetness across one's nose and eyes?

Just a little in advance a small tree released itself from the shoulder of one's predecessor and whipped one smartly upon the cheek, filling one's mouth with the piney flavor of the drip from a big evergreen under which it grew, but reminders that one could at last hunt without that frightful handicap of noisy woods.

A "loud day" usually means an unsuccessful search for the children of the wilds, while demanding unremitting toil and unceasing vigilance, which it may reward with fleeting glimpses of startled game as it goes flying into the depths, tantalizingly waving a white flag in a soul-harrowing adieu, one's richest vocabulary proving utterly inadequate to the proper expression of emotion, though one is still bound to make the attempt.

That low-lying land between the ridges was all afloat and the farther side was punctuated by a sound of churning water until it found escape between moccasin stitches, but it was hardly light when a sharp report changed a big doe from "eater" t "eatee" at the end of a half dozen frantic bounds. No second shot was needed, though five others could have sped from the Remington before she

crossed the little clearing, so rapidly can the auto deliver the goods.

Have you ever pulled up short after a good long tramp in the early morning and challenged your appetite to "come out in the open and show what it can do?" Beats all how quickly one can forget he has eaten as heartily as he knows how but two short hours ago!

An old tree with a dry inside and a few of those dead branches from pine or spruce, furnished all the dry fuel required for a small fire against a rock, and between the forestick and the back one a can of coffee soon began to sing. Just a

little toast-a slice or two of deer's heart and there you are! Finest meal in

the world! Hungry? Of

course.

If you are ever similarly situated, climb and bring to earth the head of that young birch, your weight holding it while

your companion passes across it a short stick, sharpened, and inserts the ends under the big muscle just back of the doe's "knuckle,"

of the foxes. of the foxes. When you have dressed off your prize, do as those sportsmen did-depart in quest of more sport, leaving the doe to freeze at the tripod. Several days later you may have the exquisite pleasure of "sagging" your deer into camp. It's great exercisetry it. Your shoulders may feel better for a good rubbing, but never mind. that.

At noon the rain and sleet ceased and losing nothing of its velocity, a northwest wind had conversation with wood monarchs, who answered his

whistling with sundry groanings and squeakings, all uniting to muffle the hunter's approach.

Before three o'clock a magnificent buck with a fine set of antlers lav at

the end of a careful stalk across a

ridge, his wild rush for liberty ending at fifty paces from where he stood beside a big "'popple when first sighted, a bullet through the fore shoulder coming to him from out the unknown, without warning of the presence of a foe. He was

a beauty and weighed more than two hundred pounds.

"How many miles from the cabin, Hank? I have a notion we'd better beat it. For mine a hot-foot to a great

big dinner with the boys before it gets black dark."

"Wise gazabo that you are, 'But.' I'll take the same for mine. Light enough now, but before we cover that six miles to the stream, it'll be eyes on our toes for sure. Straight across country and no turning out! Follow your leader."

Forgetting all other than the cozy scenes awaiting them at camp, they plunged through brooks that came tearing down the valleys, splashed knee-deep across swamps and threaded their way among tangled bushes and dead vines, following a due east course by compass. As Hank had said, they turned out for nothing, little caring for the good soaking they were getting as they had been wet all day. Good woolens next to the body taboo that clammy sensation, and even though wet, are still warm when one is exercising.

An hour and a half from the time they left the ridges, they debouched into the clearing where the cabin stood and from the other side next the stream three figures were dimly visible coming from the canoe landing.

"Hello, Bill, any game?" called "But."

"Got three in the party. That Hank with you? Here's Chuc and Bob. Chuc's just come in-first time in the woods. Says it ain't like home. S'pose he'll like our boudoir mirrors and morris chairs?"

"That depends upon the color of his blood. If it's a good rich red he'll hear music that will ring true and remind him of his ancestors and the good old days when toilets were not so elaborate as now and the distant stars blinked in their eyes as they sank to rest on the bosom of Mother Earth," and striding in advance of the party. Hank set his foot against the camp door, which flew inward and a blaze in a big open fireplace sent a glare into the faces of his companions behind him, who paused for a moment before accepting a chorus of invitations to enter the charmed circle of good fellows, who were sprawled about in ex

ceedingly awkward, though doubtless comfortable, positions.

Everything denoted a care-free party bent only upon getting all out of life there is in it. No frills were to be seen on any of the six men whose smiling faces turned toward the newcomers, unless the "moss" of the unshaven might be termed that. Flannel shirts, more or less open at the neck, soft woolen trousers or corduroy, with leggings and moccasins with the inevit able leather belt and knife sheath in the middle of the back, a la mode woodsy -that was the prevailing costume.

Deer and moose heads, with antlers crossed by rifles of all makes and every caliber from 30-30 to 45-90, were everywhere. The dining table along the cabin side never visited civilization and was born in the forest. Bunks, tier on tier, a washstand, and a few chairs, stools rough butchered together from gnarled limbs, and a "deacon's seat" and its mate completed the furnishing. with the exception of the "throne," a place of special privilege, made by cutting a big barrel into reclining chair form, to be used only when the storyteller or honored guest held forth for the entertainment of the "bunch." Numerous deer skins were thrown about the floor.

A big lamp, suspended from the center of the log rafters, reinforced the firelight and revealed rows of woolen stockings and sweaters draped about for drying, like festoons of sailors' truck in the rigging of a cruiser, while all about the smooth peeled logs of the cabin showed moss-chinked cracks, through which, in spite of all, the snapping eyes of the upper world could be seen on clear nights. A door at one side marked the entrance to the cook's quarters and a wholesome rattle of tin dishes told the story of "something doing" ere long.

"The dead alive!"

"Come in and hear this yarn from Steve. He's hit only the high places all day and is dead sore, eh Sam?"

"Hold that tale of woe till full stomachs bear the strain better, old pal. Here, Hank, ‘interjuice' your friends."

"Line up! Joe, Sam, Ed, Mord, Fred, and Steve-grip paws with Bill, Bob, and Chuc. That's good enough. You'd forget their long handles if I gave them to you. Get acquainted after dinner. I congratulate myself that I have presented these innocents to the slickest gang of second-story workers and all-around liars in the big woods. Paste that in your hat and sign the bond. 'But' and I will give the mixture a grain of salt."

The dual grind of the deacon seats and shuffling of feet under the long table denoted perfect unanimity of acceptance of this courteous invitation, and after a few minutes of vigorous attack upon a big venison roast and its supporting batteries of vegetables, Steve mumbled an opening sentence of his grouch and the newcomers pricked up their ears as he took up his interrupted yarn.

"That sure was plumb bad after such a chance as I had. Up there by the old

Birds

"Too small to taste at that. of a feather you know. Your feathers are a trifle shy, but you flock our way I notice."

"Only bird house in this region, that's why. Don't think I love you or approve your doings. Nix for Hank. Some of you have a reason for livingothers, well, you're here, that's all." "DINNER! do you hear, DINNER! Quit your kidding and fall to. Great snakes! Must I drag you to the festive board?"

lean-to, with a fine fire burning under my coffee pot and hands full of grub, when I heard a crackling sound in the woods, looked over my shoulder, and there stood the biggest and best buck I ever saw in the Maine woods."

"That's what they all say!" interpolated Sam, and ducked under the table to escape a hot biscuit hurled with unerring aim at his left optic.

"Score one for the nigger's head! Say something else that's smart enough to grow whiskers a yard long, will