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THE HUNTERS
The While Owl sits on a low snow-drift,
Away from the Hunter’s hounds,
And longs and waits for the latch to lift
When the Trapper shall go his rounds.
O’er the rolling prairie see him run,
As he reads on the snow-page fair:
Here is the neat, straight trail of the Fox;
Here are the bounds of the Hare;
Here ’s where the Fox found the Hare track fresh,
And see! was pursuing him there!
Just think of the meeting those trailers will have
When one track replaces the pair!
