Page:Wisdom of the Wilderness (1923).pdf/167

 ever since their arrival from the south that spring, for his rough shack, roofed with sheets of whitish yellow birch bark, stood in full view of their nest and hardly two hundred paces from it. Furthermore, they were well accustomed to the sight of him in his canoe on the lake, where he was scarcely less assiduous a fisherman than themselves. But they were shy of him, nevertheless, and would not let him watch them at their feeding. They preferred to watch him instead, unafraid and quite unresentful but mildly curious, as he strolled up to the mangled body of the fish and turned it over with the toe of his moccasined foot.

"Jee-hoshaphat!" he muttered admiringly, "Who'd ever a' thought them there fish hawks could a' handled a 'togue' ez big ez that! Some birds!"

He waved a lean and hairy brown hand approvingly at the two ospreys in the pine top, and then moved on with his loose-jointed stride up through the trees toward his shack. The birds sat watching him impassively, unwilling to resume their feast till he should be out of sight. And the big fish lay glittering in the sun, a staringly conspicuous object on the empty beach.

But other eyes meanwhile—shrewd, savage, greedy eyes—had marked and coveted the allur-