. Trails and tramps in Alaska and Newfoundland . utiful white featherscrimsoned with its life blood, slowly movingwith the current to the sea. In a short time stakes were pulled, duffelpacked, lines adjusted, and we were on ourway. There was a little commotion at thehead of the line when Simeon, one of theIndians, spied a large porcupine ploddinghis way deeper into the forest. Letting goof the rope he made a rush for the porky,caught it by the tail, held on till he got aclub nearby, and proceeded to pound it overthe head. The natives are very fond ofporky, and when we pitched camp in theevenin
. Trails and tramps in Alaska and Newfoundland . utiful white featherscrimsoned with its life blood, slowly movingwith the current to the sea. In a short time stakes were pulled, duffelpacked, lines adjusted, and we were on ourway. There was a little commotion at thehead of the line when Simeon, one of theIndians, spied a large porcupine ploddinghis way deeper into the forest. Letting goof the rope he made a rush for the porky,caught it by the tail, held on till he got aclub nearby, and proceeded to pound it overthe head. The natives are very fond ofporky, and when we pitched camp in theevening Simeon was very busy singeing thehair over the fire before boiling. On our way up the river we were agreeablysurprised to see a stranger walk into , erect, with clean-cut features, he looked Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 141 the very picture of health. He wore a broad-brimmed hat with the garb of a was about ready, and on invitationhe dined with us. In conversation we soonlearned that he was a college man, a graduate <J. Porky of one of the leading colleges in the East, andhad come from our own eastern city somefourteen years before. He told us that for sev-eral years he had corresponded with relativesand friends, but finally quit writing becausehe had not yet made his stake. However,he now had many encouraging prospects,and before long expected to make good and 142 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula return east. It was surprising to us how aneducated man could spend fourteen of thebest years of his life in his little tent, withraosquitoes and no-see-ims as his onlycompanions, dreaming, dreaming of the findthat never came, and with his pan, pick, andshovel digging every here and there, withcolor, color everywhere, but not in payingquantities. On our way down we found himas usual, dreaming of the prospects he hadstaked, and when we left him a sack of flourand a few other necessaries of life he was verygrateful, showing that a warm heart beatbeneath the rough ex
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