the sun was near, and one day it rose up behind the forest.

It sends a strip of sweetness through me from head to foot when the sun
comes up; I shoulder my gun with quiet delight.



IV


I was never short of game those days, but shot all I cared to--a hare, a
grouse, a ptarmigan--and when I happened to be down near the shore and
came within range of some seabird or other, I shot it too. It was a
pleasant time; the days grew longer and the air clearer; I packed up
things for a couple of days and set off up into the hills, up to the
mountain peaks. I met reindeer Lapps, and they gave me cheese--rich
little cheeses tasting of herbs. I went up that way more than once.
Then, going home again, I always shot some bird or other to put in my
bag. I sat down and put Asop on the lead. Miles below me was the sea;
the mountainsides were wet and black with the water running down them,
dripping and trickling always with the same little sound. That little
sound of the water far up on the hills has shortened many an hour for me
when I sat looking about. Here, I thought to myself, is a little endless
song trickling away all to itself, and no one ever hears it, and no one
ever thinks of it, and still it trickles on nevertheless, to itself, all
the time, all the time! And I felt that the mountains were no longer
quite deserted, as long as I could hear that little trickling song. Now
and again something would happen: a clap of thunder shaking the earth, a
mass of rock slipping loose and rushing down towards the sea, leaving a
trail of smoking dust behind. Asop turned his nose to the wind at once,