When a gun goes off on a cold winters day, the retort echoes through the forest for miles around and every living creature stops to look and listen. The first gunshot of hunting season startled and put the faeries o. Scouts fanned out along the ridge, searg fe or camouflage vests or hats, listening for the trudge of men seeking out deer, pheasant, turkey, grouse, rabbit, fox, or black bear. Sometimes the hunters brought their dogs, dumb aiful— mottled pointers, feathery setters, blueticks, blad-tans, retrievers. The dogs could be more dangerous than their owners. Unless we masked our st along every path, the dogs could smell us out.
My great fear iing out alone is the eeting up with a stray or worse. Years later, when we were fewer in number, a pack of hunting dogs picked up our trail and surprised us at rest in a shady grove. They raced our way, a stream of flashing sharp teeth and howling menace, and we moved as one by instinct, scrambling toward the……（内容加载失败！）
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