They walked to Allen's the first
day, and, after a brief visit there, went off in the deep woods,
camping on a pond in thick-timbered hills. Coming to the lilied
shore, they sat down a while to rest. A hawk was sailing high
above the still water. Crows began to call in the tree-tops. An
eagle sat on a dead pine at the water's edge and seemed to be
peering down at his own shadow. Two deer stood in a marsh on the
farther shore, looking over at them. Near by were the bones of
some animal, and the fresh footprints of a painter. Sounds echoed
far in the hush of the unbroken wilderness.
"See, boy," said Darrel, with a little gesture of his right hand,
"the theatre o' the woods! See the sloping hills, tree above tree,
like winding galleries. Here is a coliseum old, past reckoning.
Why, boy, long before men saw the Seven Hills it was old. Yet see
how new it is--how fresh its colour, how strong its timbers! See
the many seats, each with a good view, an' the multitude o' the
people, yet most o' them are hidden. Ten thousand eyes are looking
down upon us. Tragedies and comedies o' the forest are enacted
here. Many a thrilling scene has held the stage--the spent deer
swimming for his life, the painter stalking his prey or leaping on
it.
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