daunted by nothing short of tin. All the while he does not neglect to
vituperate the chipmunks and sparrows that whisk off crumbs of comfort
from under the camper's feet. The Camp Robber's gray coat, black and
white barred wings, and slender bill, with certain tricks of perching,
accuse him of attempts to pass himself off among woodpeckers; but his
behavior is all crow. He frequents the higher pine belts, and has a
noisy strident call like a jay's, and how clean he and the frisk-tailed
chipmunks keep the camp! No crumb or paring or bit of eggshell goes
amiss.

High as the camp may be, so it is not above timber-line, it is not too
high for the coyote, the bobcat, or the wolf. It is the complaint of the
ordinary camper that the woods are too still, depleted of wild life. But
what dead body of wild thing, or neglected game untouched by its kind,
do you find? And put out offal away from camp over night, and look next
day at the foot tracks where it lay.

Man is a great blunderer going about in the woods, and there is no other
except the bear makes so much noise. Being so well warned beforehand, it
is a very stupid animal, or a very bold one, that cannot keep safely
hid. The cunningest hunter is hunted in turn, and what he leaves of his
kill is meat for some other. That is the economy of nature, but with it
all there is not sufficient account taken of the works of man. There is
no scavenger that eats tin cans, and no wild thing leaves a like
disfigurement on the forest floor.



THE POCKET HUNTER