Only the forest
could bring all things to calm within me; my mind was strong and at
ease. Day after day I tramped over the wooded hills with Asop at my
side, and asked no more than leave to keep on going there day after day,
though most of the ground was covered still with snow and soft slush. I
had no company but Asop; now it is Cora, but at that time it was Asop,
my dog that I afterwards shot.
Often in the evening, when I came back to the hut after being out
shooting all day, I could feel that kindly, homely feeling trickling
through me from head to foot--a pleasant little inward shivering. And I
would talk to Asop about it, saying how comfortable we were. "There, now
we'll get a fire going, and roast a bird on the hearth," I would say;
"what do you say to that?" And when it was done, and we had both fed,
Asop would slip away to his place behind the hearth, while I lit a pipe
and lay down on the bench for a while, listening to the dead soughing of
the trees. There was a slight breeze bearing down towards the hut, and I
could hear quite clearly the clutter of a grouse far away on the ridge
behind. Save for that, all was still.
And many a time I fell asleep there as I lay, just as I was, fully
dressed and all, and did not wake till the seabirds began calling.
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