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Margat； staid and reliable； and Loo； bright and witty； were keeping house
for him。 Thorburn Alder was visiting them。 He had just recovered from a
severe illness and had been sent to rough it in the woods in hope of
winning some of the vigor of his hosts。 Their home was of unhewn logs；
unfloored； and roofed with sods； which bore a luxuriant crop of grass and
weeds。 The primitive woods around were broken in two places： one where
the roughest of roads led southward to Petersay； the other where the
sparkling lake rolled on a pebbly shore and gave a glimpse of their nearest
neighbor's house four miles across the water。
Their daily round had little change。 Corney was up at daybreak to light
the fire； call his sisters； and feed the horses while they prepared breakfast。
At six the meal was over and Corney went to his work。 At noon； which
Margat knew by the shadow of a certain rampike falling on the spring； a
clear notification to draw fresh water for the table； Loo would hang a
white rag on a pole； and Corney； seeing the signal； would return from
summer fallow or hayfield； grimy； swarthy； and ruddy； a picture of manly
vigor and honest toil。 Thor might be away all day； but at night； when they
again assembled at the table； he would come from lake or distant ridge and
eat a supper like the dinner and breakfast； for meals as well as days were
exact repeats： pork； bread； potatoes； and tea； with occasionally eggs
supplied by a dozen hens around the little log stable； with； rarely； a
variation of wild meat； for Thor was not a hunter and Corney had little
time for anything but the farm。
II
THE LYNX
A huge four…foot basswood had gone the way of all trees。 Death had
been generoushad sent the three warnings： it was the biggest of its kind；
its children were grown up； it was hollow。 The wintry blast that sent it
down had broken it across and revealed a great hole where should have
been its heart。 A long wooden cavern in the middle of a sunny opening； it
now lay； and presented an ideal home for a Lynx when she sought a
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sheltered nesting…place for her coming brood。
Old was she and gaunt； for this was a year of hard times for the Lynxes。
A Rabbit plague the autumn before had swept away their main support； a
winter of deep snow and sudden crusts had killed off nearly all the
Partridges； a long wet spring had destroyed the few growing coveys and
had kept the ponds and streams so full that Fish and Frogs were safe from
their armed paws； and this mother Lynx fared no better than her kind。
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
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Animal Heroes
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…gl