I dug into the soft duff under the pines. This covering of the roots was
very thick and deep. I made it out to be composed of pine-needles, leaves,
and earth. It was like a sponge. No wonder such covering held the water! I
pried bark off dead trees and dug into decayed logs to find the insect
enemies of the trees. The open places, where little colonies of pine
sprouts grew, seemed generally to be down-slope from the parent trees. It
was easy to tell the places where the wind had blown the seeds.
The hours sped by. The shadows of the pines lengthened, the sun set, and
the shade deepened in the hollows. Returning to my camp, I cooked my supper
and made my bed. When I had laid up a store of firewood it was nearly dark.
With night came the coyotes. The carcass of the deer attracted them, and
they approached from all directions. At first it was fascinating to hear
one howl far off in the forest, and then to notice the difference in the
sound as he came nearer and nearer. The way they barked and snapped out
there in the darkness was as wild a thing to hear as any boy could have
wished for. It began to be a little too much for me. I kept up a bright
fire, and, though not exactly afraid, I had a perch picked out in the
nearest tree. Suddenly the coyotes became silent. Then a low, continuous
growling, a snapping of twigs, and the unmistakable drag of a heavy body
over the ground made my hair stand on end.
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