The Holbrook news., 1912-01-12

of his day at will. More often than not he quietly slept beside a log or be- heath some sheltering bush, although the gloomy forest aisles about him re- sounded to the barking of wolves or the yelling of partners. Under simi- lar circumstances and surroundings the average modern hunter would starve if he did not first die of fright Life in camp is replete with pleas ures for those who enjoy a bit of roughing it. The pure and invigorat- ing air exhilarates the brain-fagged city toiler when he reaches "a lodge In some vast wilderness" The petty worries of his daily grind are speedily forgotten amid the beauties of his en- chanting environment Life discloses new meaning to the man in Q for est.
 A Reckoning Fire.
 At night there greets his eyes wheh returning from a days hunting the in- viting camp. Soon a cheery fire of blazing logs before its entrance sends forth curling flames that beckon him to an hour of ease and comfort while recounting with his companions the various haps and mishaps of the day. His ravenous hunger having been sat ised the pipes are filled and the stories begin. Good luck if the ruddy glow of the fire discloses in the outer cir cles of its light the hanging carcass of a fine deer some one of the party has succeeded in bringing down during the day. Minute details of the tragedy, for 1t Is at once a tragedy and a triumph when deer is done to his death, are told by the successful hunter, which recalls other instances of like nature. and so the stories go on. They are usually ended by the guide. who. If he is worth his salt. can tell bigger and better story than any of the others.
 In restful attitudes about the cheer ing fire, their pipes aglow. the hunters are silent a moment after the last streaming in threads of wavering light toward the black dome above. The guide has completed his preparations for the night and joined the group. Somewhere in the awesome darkness without a night bird utters a plaintive note and then from down toward the landing there echoes through the for est with startling force a deep-voiced questioning call.
 'Whoo-whoo-whoo. who-whoo. to- whoo-ah?"
 Whats that?" cries out the nervous young fellow who is having his first experience in camp life. He springs to his feet and peers into the gloom whence came the solemn interroga- ton, but before answer Is made to his wild question a thrilling, weird shriek sends his hair-raised hat aloft and he nearly plunges through the fire in a hasty retreat to the side of 1t next the camp. The unrestrained laughter of his companions is so reassuring that he tremulously joins in; but he does not return to his former place in the circle
 ..Nothin' but an owl" explains Nick. the guide. "Pesky critters Sometimes they'll keep a feller awake half the night with their 'tarnal racket"
 ''Drat the pesky crittersI" cries the irate guide, and filings a last brand of the dying fire aloft to frighten them away.
 After all is quiet again the solemn. mysterious silence of the forest night Is broken once more. This time 1t is the booming crash of a dead tree that falls with startling effect
 Going to storm tomorrow, sure," grumbles Nick. Always does when a dead tree falls on a still night, like this"
 The sleepy hunters once more set tie down to their repose. reassured by his explanation. The fire gives a last nutter of flame. A rabbit patters by on the dry leaves and then-silence.