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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Hunters of the Hills"

Yet it played tricks with him.
The shadow reappeared again and again, always close to the far bank, but
there were many boughs also to reproduce themselves in the mirror of the
lake. He convinced himself that his eyes and his mind were having sport
with him, and turning away, he made a little circle in the woods about
their camp. All was well. He heard a swish overhead, but he knew that it
was a night bird, a rustling came, and an ungainly form lumbered through
a thicket, but it was a small black bear, and coming back to the hollow,
he looked down at his comrades.
Tayoga and Willet slept well. Neither had stirred, and wrapped in their
blankets lying on the soft leaves, they were true pictures of forest
comfort. They were fine and loyal comrades, as good as anybody ever had,
and he was glad they were so near, because he began to have a feeling
now that something unusual was going to occur. The shadows on the lake
troubled him again, and he went back for another look. He did not see
them now, and that, too, troubled him.


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