ring square miles in one pack. The immense bands of elk and
droves of deer are things of the past, and "The game must go."

CHAPTER VIII
A Ten Days' Trip In The Wilderness--Going It Alone

ABOUT the only inducements I can think of for making a ten days'
journey through a strong wilderness, solitary and alone, were a liking
for adventure, intense love of nature in her wildest dress, and a
strange fondness for being in deep forests by myself. The choice of
route was determined by the fact that two old friends and school-mates
had chosen to cast their lots in Michigan, one near Saginaw Bay, the
other among the pines of the Muskegon. And both were a little homesick,
and both wrote frequent letters, in which, knowing my weak point, they
exhausted their adjectives and adverbs in describing the abundance of
game and the marvelous fishing. Now, the Muskegon friend--Davis--was
pretty well out of reach. But Pete Williams, only a few miles out of
Saginaw, was easily accessible. And so it happened, on a bright October
morning, when there came a frost that cut from Maine to Missouri, that
a sudden fancy took me to use my new Billinghurst on something larger
than squirrels. It took about one minute to decide and an hour to pack
such duffle as I needed for a few weeks in the woods.

Remembering Pete's two brown-eyed "kids," and knowing that they were
ague-stricken and homesick, I made place for a few apples and peaches,
with a ripe melon. For Pete and I had been chums in Rochester and I had
bunked in his attic on Galusha Street, for two years. Also, his babies
thought as much of me as of their father. The trip to Saginaw was easy
and pleasant. A "Redbird" packet to Buffalo, the old propeller Globe to
Lower Saginaw and a ride of half a day on a buckboard, brought me to
Pete Williams' clearing. Were they glad to see me? Well, I think so.
Pete and his wife cried like children, while the two little homesick
"kids" laid their silken heads on my knees and sobbed for very joy.
When I brought out the apples and peaches, assuring them that these
came from the little garden of their old home--liar that I was--their
delight was boundless. And the fact that their favorite tree was a
"sour bough," while these were sweet, did not shake their faith in the
least.

I stayed ten days or more with the Williams family and the fishing and
hunting were all that he had said--all that could be asked. The woods
swarmed with pigeons and squirrels; grouse