I tried many
remedies, and finally found one, camphor ice, that would prevent the
drying and cracking.
Next day at dawn the forest was full of the soughing of wind in the
pines--a wind that presaged storm. No stars showed. Romer-boy piled
out at six o'clock. I had to follow him. The sky was dark and cloudy.
Only a faint light showed in the east and it was just light enough
to see when we ate breakfast. Owing to strayed horses we did not get
started till after nine o'clock.
Five miles through the woods, gradually descending, led us into an
open plain where there was a grass-bordered pond full of ducks. Here
appeared an opportunity to get some meat. R.C. tried with shotgun and
I with rifle, all to no avail. These ducks were shy. Romer seemed to
evince some disdain at our failure, but he did not voice his feelings.
We found some wild-turkey tracks, and a few feathers, which put our
hopes high.
Crossing the open ground we again entered the forest, which gradually
grew thicker as we got down to a lower altitude. Oak trees began to
show in swales. And then we soon began to see squirrels, big, plump,
gray fellows, with bushy tails almost silver. They appeared wilder
than we would have suspected, at that distance from the settlements.
Romer was eager to hunt them, and with his usual persistence,
succeeded at length in persuading his uncle to do so.
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