And so another mystery of the woods was made plain by a little
watching.
Years afterwards, the knowledge gained stood me in good stead in
clearing up another mystery. It was in a lumber camp--always a
superstitious place--in the heart of a Canada forest. I had followed a
wandering herd of caribou too far one day, and late in the afternoon
found myself alone at a river, some twenty miles from my camp, on the
edge of the barren grounds. Somewhere above me I knew that a crew of
lumbermen were at work; so I headed up river to find their camp, if
possible, and avoid sleeping out in the snow and bitter cold. It was
long after dark, and the moon was flooding forest and river with a
wonderful light, when I at last caught sight of the camp. The click of
my snowshoes brought a dozen big men to the door. At that moment I
felt rather than saw that they seemed troubled and alarmed at seeing
me alone; but I was too tired to notice, and no words save those of
welcome were spoken until I had eaten heartily. Then, as I started out
for another look at the wild beauty of the place under the moonlight,
a lumberman followed and touched me on the shoulder.
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