The
error I had made was then plain: we had come off the mountain a few
paces too far to the right, and so had passed down on the wrong side
of the ridge, into what we afterwards learned was the valley of Alder
Creek.
We now made good time, and before many minutes I again saw the mimic
sky glance through the trees. As we approached the lake, a solitary
woodchuck, the first wild animal we had seen since entering the woods,
sat crouched upon the root of a tree a few feet from the water,
apparently completely nonplused by the unexpected appearance of danger
on the land side. All retreat was cut off, and he looked his fate in
the face without flinching. I slaughtered him just as a savage would
have done, and from the same motive,--I wanted his carcass to eat.
The mid-afternoon sun was now shining upon the lake, and a low, steady
breeze drove the little waves rocking to the shore. A herd of cattle
were browsing on the other side, and the bell of the leader sounded
across the water. In these solitudes its clang was wild and musical.
To try the trout was the first thing in order. On a rude raft of log
which we found moored at the shore, and which with two aboard shipped
about a food of water, we floated out and wet our first fly in
Thomas's Lake; but the trout refused to jump, and to be frank, not
more than a dozen and a half were caught during our stay.
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