There are some who can live without wild things, and some who cannot . . . This is a story for those who cannot. In 1927 Crazy Ernie, Kid Al and my dad won a hunting shack in a poker game and lost their hearts to a swamp. In a remote northwoods clearing stood a...
Walking silently through the wet snow, I . . . reached the kill site, but another solitary hunter was already there. I have often searched the wilderness for something that is right under my nose. On this day, I had just returned from a grueling backpack hunt deep in...
