I would give much indeed if I could
have photos of the scenes of my brother's and my successes in the
somber and game-thronged wilds of the gloomy Okefinokee Swamp. I think
I sent you long ago the two numbers of _Forest and Stream_ in which the
history of that most wonderful of all my outings appeared. If I did not
do so I will loan you the only copy I have. Let me know.
"I am glad, so glad, that you young athletic men are following the wild
trails armed with the most romantic weapon man ever fashioned, and I
would give almost any precious thing I hold to fare with you once to
the game land of your choice, and to watch and wait by a slender trail
while you and your young, strong comrades stole through the secret
haunts of the wild things, and to listen to the faint footfalls of the
coming deer, roused by your entrance into their secret lairs. To see
the soft and devious approach of the wary thing; to see the lifted
light head turned sharply back toward the evil that roused it from its
bed of ferns; to feel the strong bow tightening in my hand as the thin,
hard string comes back; to feel the leap of the loosened cord, the jar
of the bow, and see the long streak of the going shaft, and hear the
almost sickening 'chuck' of the stabbing arrow.
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