Chapter 98 Beasts of Winter - 3

The hunter who told me this could remember a man named Sam Nadine, who used to hunt bears on the rock formations of Fair Harbor, and take the hides and trade them for rum in the villages of Concord. drink; the man once told him that he had even seen a moose.Nadine had a famous fox-hound named Burgoyne,--but he pronounced it a Bu-sutra--often borrowed from him by the person who told me this passage.In this township, there is an old businessman who is also the captain, town accountant, and representative. I saw such a record in his "diary book".1742—Three years, January eighteenth, "John, Melvin, creditor, a gray fox, zero dollars and twenty-three cents"; there is no such thing now, in his In the ledger, on February 7th, 1743, Hezigia Stradden loaned "half a cat's skin, zero dollars and a quarter"; Well, Stradden was a sergeant, so of course he wouldn't use something worse than the Bobcats for a loan.At that time, there were also deerskins in exchange for loans; deerskins were sold every day.One man still kept the antlers of the last deer killed in the neighbourhood, and another told me of a hunt his uncle had attended.Once upon a time the hunters here were both numerous and happy.I still remember a skinny Ning who caught a leaf on the side of the road and could play a melody on it. If I remember correctly, it seemed wilder and more beautiful than any hunting horn.

At midnight when there was a moon, I sometimes met a lot of hounds on the road. They ran in the woods, hid the road in front of me, and stood quietly in the bushes as if they were afraid of me, until I passed by. come out. The squirrels and voles were arguing over my store of nuts.Around my house were twenty or thirty pitch pines, from an inch to four inches in diameter, which had been eaten by mice the previous winter—a Norwegian winter for them, with long, So deep they had to resort to pine bark to compensate for the shortness of their grain.The trees survived, apparently thriving during the summer, and although all their bark was circumcised, many grew a foot; All died.It is strange that little mice should be allowed to eat a whole tree, not up and down, but around it; but perhaps it is necessary to thin the forest, they often It grows too bushy.

The Wild Rabbit (Lepus Americanus) is very common. Its body moves under my house all winter, only the floor separates us. Every morning, when I start to move, it scurries away. Waking me up,—bang, bang, bang, it hit its head on the floor in its haste.They used to come around my door at dusk and eat the potato peelings I threw away, and they were so like the color of the earth that when they were still you could hardly tell them apart.Sometimes in the twilight I lost sight and saw the wild rabbit sitting motionless under my window for a while.If I open the door at dusk, they squeak and leap away.When I got close to them, I could only feel sorry for them.There was one sitting at my door one evening, within two paces of me; trembling at first, but refusing to run away, poor little creature, so thin that the bones stood out, with broken ears, a pointed nose, and a bare tail. , thin claws.It seemed as if nature had no nobler species left but such little things.Its eyes were large and youthful, but unhealthy, almost edematous.I take a step on the road, and behold, it leaps up with great spring, runs across the snow, stretches its body and limbs gracefully, and at once brings the forest between me and it,—the wildness Yet the free muscles speak of the energy and dignity of nature.

Its thinness is not without reason.Such is its nature. (Its scientific name, Lepus, comes from Levipes, strong feet, some think.) What is a field but rabbits and partridges?They are the simplest of native animals; in ancient times, as now, there were such ancient and venerable animals; of the same color and nature with nature, and the closest union with the leaves and the earth, —and are alliances with each other; neither birds by wings nor beasts by feet.When you see rabbits and partridges running away, you don't think they are animals, they are a part of nature, like ironic leaves.No matter what kind of revolution happens, rabbits and partridges will surely last forever, just like native-born people.If the forest is cut down, the low branches and young leaves can still hide them, and they will multiply more.A field that cannot support a single rabbit must be barren.Our woods are well suited to them both, and around every marsh are seen walking rabbits and partridges, while the shepherd boys have laid twig hedges and horsehair traps round them.