Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1954-01-28

This is the 41st of a series Of
articles dealing Nth spots of loca
color and beauty -.
Emerson, / believe it was, once
said, "For everything we have
gained we have lost something, ano
for everything we have lost we
have gained something" l can't
explain this like Emerson did, but
can try.
One who has not lived close to
Nature has missed something. /
believe he has missed infinitely
more than he has gained. I've al
ways been sorry for New Workers,
some of whom have never once seen
a tomato vine or a green tree.
Have YOU ever been caught
miles from base in a binding rain
storm? No? Doubtless you were
safely nestled in your cozy, ultra
modern home thinking not at all of
the poor, soaking wet fellows hud-
died in a duck blind. You'd have
felt great pity for them had you
known of their predicament. But
-. alas, they didn't need your
sympathy.
After all they couldn't expect you
to appreciate how very, very Won
derful it was after the storm when
great focks of mallards, red-heads
and wood ducks decided to rest
their wings among the decoys
riding at anchor-decoys that had
been carefully set out at dawn
when the great sun slowly climbed
out of the east--a sight never real
ly seen in the environs of big
city.
y If the hunter thought of you at
all, it was with a feeling akin to
pity-he knew you didn't know
what you were missing. Well say
you've castle-the hunter is hap
pier and more at peace with the
world in his tiny river bottom
cabin than you are.
s. Who appreciates Nature and Ma
lures ways better than the hunter
and the fisherman? One is certain
ly happier by far to realize that the
great magnitude md ineffable
!. beauty of Nature is strictly synony-
nous with God. Truly in Nature
there is every possible manifesto
ton of the Supreme Being.
What do you enjoy? Movies?
Radio? Television? Bridge?
Do you think you'd like, we'll
say !. 'coonhunting?
You wouldn't? Well, how do you
know?
Let me tell you about a coon
hunt took this year, and when you
read about it, see if you don't think
you'd like to have been along. I'm
going to prove to you that you've
missed something, probably some
thing you've never even dreamed
about. :.
For almost a year l have been
living at Seneca along the Potomac
River.
To introduce the principal char
Actcr of this little piece I'd like you
to meet old "Drive." He's a black,
white and tan, 70-pound Walker
fox-hound, nine years old, who's
given up the fox for the more cold
and complicated trail of the willy
raccoon. He's got loud, resonant
voice you can hear, even on a windy
night, for miles. And when he
stress" and you can't, or don't, get
there, he'll bark until daybreak,
hoping you'll come. Oh, he's a real
scooner, old "Drive" is.
On November 5, 1858, took old
rDrive" out. Walter, a friend of
mine, and who was little skeptical
about Drives" hunting ability,
went along.
1t was one of those rare, quiet,
damp nights with just a trace of
frost in the air, one of those nights
a dye d-in-the-wool 'coonhunter
loves. He knows that on a night
like this every wild animal in the
woods in on the prowl, foraging for
food.
We left Seneca about 1880 and
headed up the old towpath. / had
seen signs of many raccoon along
the canal during the fishing season.
Surely we wouldn't have any trou-
bic making a strike.
Old "Drive" faded into the night
ahead of us, and we just took our
time waiting for him to "open up"
We waited for an hour. Not
peep out of old "Drive." Surely
something was wrong. We'd COW
cred two miles of fine hunting ter
ritory, and it didn't make sense not
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