CONTENTS
| CHAP. | PAGE | |
| I. | Prelude: Morning on Moosehead | [ 3] |
| II. | The Birds’ Table | [ 15] |
| III. | Fox Comedy | [ 32] |
| IV. | Players in Sable | [ 44] |
| V. | Wolves and Wolf Tales | [ 57] |
| VI. | Ears for Hearing | [ 78] |
| VII. | Health and a Day | [ 90] |
| VIII. | Night Life of the Wilderness | [ 113] |
| IX. | Stories from the Trail | [ 138] |
| X. | Two Ends of a Bear Story | [ 176] |
| XI. | When Beaver Meets Otter | [ 184] |
| XII. | A Night Bewitched | [ 214] |
| XIII. | The Trail of the Loup-Garou | [ 233] |
| XIV. | From a Beaver Lodge | [ 256] |
| XV. | Comedians All | [ 283] |
ILLUSTRATIONS
| “Deer Appear on the Opposite Shore, SteppingDaintily; the Wild Ducks Glide Out ofTheir Hiding Place” | [ Frontispiece] | |
| “He Scrambled Up It With Almost the Ease of aSquirrel and Disappeared into the Top” | Facing p. | [ 42] |
| “The Rest Spread into a Fan-shaped Formationas They Came Straight On” | “ | [ 74] |
| “He Is a Very Expert Fisherman, and Finds Plentyto Eat Without Interfering With Any Other” | “ | [ 188] |
| “Their Very Attitude Made Me Feel Queer, forThey Were in Touch With a Matter of WhichI Had No Warning” | “ | [ 226] |
| “With a Sudden Access of Courage He Pouncedon His Find, Whirled It Up in the Air,Scampered Hither and Yon Like a PlayingKitten” | “ | [ 242] |
| “The Silhouette of That Quiet Beaver StoodOut Like a Watchman Against the EveningTwilight” | “ | [ 266] |
| “Then He Peeks Cautiously Around the Tree,and Very Likely Finds a Black Nose Comingto Meet Him” | “ | [ 296] |
WOOD-FOLK COMEDIES
PRELUDE: MORNING ON MOOSEHEAD
SUNRISE in the big woods, morning and springtime and fishing weather! For the new day Killooleet the white-throated sparrow has a song of welcome; fishing has its gleeman in Koskomenos the kingfisher, sounding his merry rattle along every shore where minnows are shoaling; and for the springtime even these dumb trees grow eloquent. Yesterday they were gray and dun, as if life had lost its sense of beauty; to-day a mist of tender green appears on every birch tree, a blush of rose color spreads over the hardwood ridges. Woods that all winter have been silent, as if deserted, are now alive with the rustling of eager feet, the flutter of wings, the call of birds returning with joy to familiar nesting places.
Above these quiet voices of rejoicing sounds another note, loud, rhythmic, jubilant, which says that Comedy, light of foot and heart, has once more renewed her lease of the wilderness. High on a towering hemlock a logcock has his sounding board, dry and resonant, where he makes all the hills echo to his lusty drumming. The morning light flames on his scarlet crest as he turns his head alertly, this way for the answer of a mate, that way for the challenge of a rival. Nearer, on the roof of my fishing camp, a downy woodpecker is thumping the metal cover of the stovepipe, a wonderful drum, on which he can easily make more noise than the big logcock.