28 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR The Last Call EDGAR R. LYLE, ’19-ii T was a cold, snappy November morning, the trees stood like great images, leafless, but still stately, their tops swaying to and fro with the wind, which would every min- ute or two sweep the mountain- side. Everything was still and serene, the ground was frozen hard and the little brooklets, gushing here and there, possessed a thin sheet of ice. but would soon be thawed by the sun. just rising in its beacon red over the horizon. The birds were singing sweetly, as if they real- ized that everything was so beautiful and quiet. Now and again, a spry rabbit would bob out from under a bush, and scare from its posture a frog which would jump on the thin ice of a tiny rivulet, and then make a queer noise, as if in mockery to its tormentor. All this Tom lloyt took in from his position on the side of the mountain, where he stood in the middle of the trail, just out of sight of the small settlement below in the valley called Eairview. He saw plainly the majestic Bay of I'undy. now glisten- ing in the morning sunlight, and his heart was filled with unspeakable joy. He was very happy because of all this, but more so, because he held in his hand a brand new Winchester. He was off on his first hunt- ing trip alone, and possessed a gun that he could really call his own. He stood there, un- knowingly completing the beautiful picture, a boy nearly full-grown, with broad shoulders, athletic build, and a frank, open face. One could easily see that he was inured to the hardships of farming, for he had especially large hands; he wore the farmers’ slouch hat. and his general bearing was that of a boy who had al- ways followed a free and open-air mode of living. He turned and continued up the trail until he reached the top of the small mountain. Now and again he would pass a meadow, now fast growing with bushes and young trees, where men of the past generation had cleared a field and had built a staunch log cabin, lie kept on until he came to a large knoll, and reaching the top. saw just over the tree-tops below him. a small lake, whose beautiful blue waters just matched that of the cloudless sky. and harmonized perfectly with the spruce and fir trees vthich surrounded it on all sides, as far as the eye could see. He stood taking in his second experience of a beautiful scene. The young hunter then set off again, emerg- ing into the woods on the upper side of the lake. and took any course that chance brought in his way. making scarcely any noise, if at all. for he had on his feet a pair of moccasins, which lu- had bought the same time that he had purchased his gun. and he was skilled in woodcraft, be- cause ever since he was able to keep up to the pace of his father be had accompanied him on short hunting trips. After he had gone a short distance into the woods, always keeping near the edge of tlie lake, where brooks formed in- lets. he made a birchbark horn with his hunting knife, for he was about to call a moose. This lie had learned from his father and neighboring hunters, until he had become a “ven good hand at it.” according to an old and experienced hunter, named Jake Turner. He had never put his learning into practice, but he was willing to make a start, lie raised the horn to his lips and called the moose with such accuracy as is difficult to attain, and which so few hunters possess. Then he listened, lie wondered if there would be any responsi-. Would the sought game come? Hark! Was that a mighty bull, roaring and tearing through the woods and coming to his call? Alas! It was a flock of partridges, flying between the bushes nearby, which sounded like some large animal, just within hearing distance, coming at a great speed. He went on a few paces, and then called again, listening for a short time after he had called. Then he trudged another short distance, calling again, and repeated this at short intervals, listening after every call, until he had gone what seemed nearly five miles. 'fired, hungry and discouraged, this young hunter decided to rest and eat his lunch at the side of the next brook which he came acros . Soon he came upon that which he desired, and looked on its rippling waters with quiet content- ment. but he did not meditate long, for he was famished. He flung himself down on the soft moss beside the brook with a sigh of relief, and pulled out of his pocket the lunch which his mother, whom he loved so well, had prepared for him. He unwrapped it quickly and saw tie- dainty lunch with a large piece of marble cake with a thick chocolate frosting and three large walnuts on to]). Just what he liked best. Gee. that was “rippin’ good.” mother. He laid the lunch down on the moss, and lying flat on the ground, drank of the cold water in the brook. Then came that lunch. He “took at it like :• ravenous bear, and there was nothing left in a few minutes but that large, red bandanna hand-
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