Many A Tree
Have These Old Axemen Felled, But, Round-Shouldered And Stooping, They
Too Are Beginning To Lean Over.
Many of their companions are already
beneath the moss, and among those that we see at work some are now
dead at the top (bald), leafless, so to speak, and tottering to their
fall.
A very different man, seen now and then at long intervals but usually
invisible, is the free roamer of the wilderness - hunter, prospector,
explorer, seeking he knows not what. Lithe and sinewy, he walks
erect, making his way with the skill of wild animals, all his senses
in action, watchful and alert, looking keenly at everything in sight,
his imagination well nourished in the wealth of the wilderness, coming
into contact with free nature in a thousand forms, drinking at the
fountains of things, responsive to wild influences, as trees to the
winds. Well he knows the wild animals his neighbors, what fishes are
in the streams, what birds in the forests, and where food may be
found. Hungry at times and weary, he has corresponding enjoyment in
eating and resting, and all the wilderness is home. Some of these
rare, happy rovers die alone among the leaves. Others half settle
down and change in part into farmers; each, making choice of some
fertile spot where the landscape attracts him, builds a small cabin,
where, with few wants to supply from garden or field, he hunts and
farms in turn, going perhaps once a year to the settlements, until
night begins to draw near, and, like forest shadows, thickens into
darkness and his day is done.
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