按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
The little oneshalf starved before they camewere a double
drain； for they took the time she might have spent in hunting。
The Northern Hare is the favorite food of the Lynx； and in some
years she could have killed fifty in one day； but never one did
she see this season。 The plague had done its work too well。
One day she caught a Red…squirrel which had run into a hollow log
that proved a trap。 Another day a fetid Blacksnake was her only
food。 A day was missed； and the little ones whined piteously for
their natural food and failing drink。 One day she saw a large
black animal of unpleasant but familiar smell。 Swiftly and
silently she sprang to make attack。 She struck it once on the
nose； but the Porcupine doubled his head under； his tail flew up；
and the mother Lynx was speared in a dozen places with the little
stinging javelins。 She drew them all with her teeth； for she had
〃learned Porcupine〃 years before； and only the hard push of want
would have made her strike one now。
A Frog was all she caught that day。 On the next； as she ranged
the farthest woods in a long； hard hunt； she heard a singular
calling voice。 It was new to her。 She approached it cautiously；
up wind； got many new odors and some more strange sounds in
coming。 The loud； clear； rolling call was repeated as the mother
Lynx came to an opening in the forest。 In the middle of it were
two enormous muskrat or beaver…houses； far bigger than the
biggest she ever before had seen。 They were made partly of logs
and situated； not in a pond； but on a dry knoll。 Walking about
them were a number of Partridges； that is； birds like Partridges；
only larger and of various colors； red； yellow； and white。
She quivered with the excitement that in a man would have been
called buck…fever。 Foodfoodabundance of food； and the old
huntress sank to earth。 Her breast was on the ground； her elbows
above her back； as she made stalk； her shrewdest； subtlest stalk；
one of those Partridges she must have at any price； no trick now
must go untried； no error in this hunt； if it took hoursall day
she must approach with certainty to win before the quarry took
to flight。
Only a few bounds it was from wood shelter to the great
rat…house； but she was an hour in crawling that small space。 From
stump to brush； from log to bunch of grass she sneaked； a
flattened form； and the Partridges saw her not。 They fed about；
the biggest uttering the ringing call that first had fallen on
her ear。
Once they seemed to sense their peril； but a long await dispelled
the fear。 Now they were almost in reach； and she trembled with
all the eagerness of the hunting heart and the hungry maw。 Her
eye centred on a white one not quite the nearest； but the color
seemed to hold her gaze。
There was an open space around the rat…house； outside that were
tall weeds； and stumps were scattered everywhere。 The white bird
wandered behind these weeds； the red one of the loud voice flew
to the top of the rat…mound and sang as before。 The mother Lynx
sank lower yet。 It seemed an alarm note； but no； the white one
still was there； she could see its feathers gleaming through the
weeds。 An open space now lay about。 The huntress； flattened like
an empty skin； trailed slow and silent on the ground behind a log
no thicker than her neck； if she could reach that tuft of brush
she could get unseen to the weeds and then would be near enough
to spring。 She could smell them nowthe rich and potent smell of
life； of flesh and blood； that set her limbs a…tingle and her
eyes a…glow。
The Partridges still scratched and fed； another flew to the high
top； but the white one remained。 Five more slow…gliding； silent
steps； and the Lynx was behind the weeds； the white bird shining
through； she gauged the distance； tried the footing； swung her
hind legs to clear some fallen brush； then leaped direct with all
her force； and the white one never knew the death it died； for
the fateful gray shadow dropped； the swift and deadly did their
work； and before the other birds could realize the foe or fly；
the Lynx was gone； with the white bird squirming in her jaws。
Uttering an unnecessary growl of inborn ferocity and joy she
bounded into the forest； and bee…like sped for home。 The last
quiver had gone from the warm body of the victim when she heard
the sound of heavy feet ahead。 She leaped on a log。 The wings of
her prey were muffling her eyes； so she laid the bird down and
held it safely with one paw。 The sound drew nearer； the bushes
bent； and a Boy stepped into view。 The old Lynx knew and hated
his kind。 She had watched them at night； had followed them； had
been hunted and hurt by them。 For a moment they stood face to
face。 The huntress growled a warning that was also a challenge
and a defiance； picked up the bird and bounded from the log into
the sheltering bushes。 It was a mile or two to the den； but she
stayed not to eat till the sunlit opening and the big basswood
came to view； then a low 〃prr…prr〃 called forth the little ones
to revel with their mother in a plenteous meal of the choicest
food。
III
THE HOME OF THE LYNX
At first Thor； being town…bred； was timid about venturing into
the woods beyond the sound of Corney's axe； but day by day he
went farther； guiding himself； not by unreliable moss on trees；
but by sun； compass； and landscape features。 His purpose was to
learn about the wild animals rather than to kill them； but the
naturalist is close kin to the sportsman； and the gun was his
constant companion。 In the clearing； the only animal of any size
was a fat Woodchuck； it had a hole under a stump some hundred
yards from the shanty。 On sunny mornings it used to lie basking
on the stump； but eternal vigilance is the price of every good
thing in the woods。 The Woodchuck was always alert and Thor tried
in vain to shoot or even to trap him。
〃Hyar；〃 said Corney one morning； 〃time we had some fresh meat。〃
He took down his rifle； an old…fashioned brass…mounted
small…bore； and loading with care that showed the true rifleman；
he steadied the weapon against the door…jamb and fired。 The
Woodchuck fell backward and lay still。 Thor raced to the place
and returned in triumph with the animal； shouting： 〃Plumb through
the headone hundred and twenty yards。〃
Corney controlled the gratified smile that wrestled with the
corners of his mouth； but his bright eyes shone a trifle brighter
for the moment。
It was no mere killing for killing's sake； for the Woodchuck was
spreading a belt of destruction in the crop around his den。 Its
flesh supplied the family with more than one good meal and Corney
showed Thor how to use the skin。 First the pelt was wrapped in
hardwood ashes for twenty…four hours。 This brought the hair off。
Then the skin was soaked for three days in soft soap and worked
by hand； as it dried； till it came out a white strong leather。
Thor's wanderings extended farther in search of the things which
always came as surprises however much he was looking for them。
Many days were blanks and others would be crowded with incidents；
for unexpectedness is above all the peculiar feature of hunting；
and its lasting charm。 One day he had gone far be