prawling motionless among the flattened sedge, a heap
of bright feathers spattered with blood. Later in the morning a rifle
had cracked sharply on the hillside, and a little puff of white smoke
had blown across the dark front of the fir groves. The truce had come
to an end.

All summer long men had kept the truce with strictness, and the
hunter's fierce instinct, curbed alike by law and foresight, had
slumbered. But now the young coveys were full-fledged and strong of
wing, well able to care for themselves. The young ducks were full
grown, and no longer needed their mother's guardianship and teaching.
The young deer were learning to shift for themselves, and finding, to
their wonder and indignation, that their mothers grew day by day more
indifferent to them, more inclined to wander off in search of new
interests. The time had come when the young of the wilderness stood no
longer in need of protection. Then the hand of the law was lifted.

Instantly in the hearts of men the hunter's fever flamed up, and, with
eager eyes, they went forth to kill. Where they had yesterday walked
openly, hardly heeding the wild creatures about them, they now crept
stealthily, following the trails, or lying in ambush, waiting for the
unsuspicious flock to wing past. And when they found that the game,
yesterday so abundant and unwatchful, had to-day almost wholly
disappeared, they were indignant, and wished that they had anticipated
the season by a few hours.

As a matter of fact, the time of the ending of the truce was not the
same for all the wild creatures which had profited by its protection
through the spring and summer. Certain of the tribes, according to the
law's provisions, were secure for some weeks longer yet. But this they
never seemed to realize. As far as they could observe, when the truce
was broken for one it was broken for all, and all took alarm together.
In some unexplained way, perhaps by the mere transmission of a general
fear, word went around that the time had come for invisibility and
craft. All at once, therefore, as it seemed to men, the wilderness had
become empty.

Down a green, rough wood-road, leading from the Settlement to one of
the wild meadows by the river, came a young man in homespun carrying a
long, old-fashioned, muzzle-loading duck-gun. Two days before this he
had seen a fine buck, with antlers perfect and new-shining from the
velvet, feeding on the edge of this meadow. The young woodsman had
his g