By Adirondack (W. H. H.) Murray The author is “Adirondack Murray” because he, more than any other man, rediscovered for the past and present generation the wonderful Adirondack Woods. We are grateful to Mr. Archibald Rutledge for having shortened the story, and to Mr. Murray’s publishers, De Wolfe and Fiske Company, for permission to print […]

I At the head of a stretch of swiftly running water the river widened into a broad and deep pool. From the western bank a huge ledge of rock sloped downward and outward into the water. On it stood the trapper, John Norton, with a look of both expectation and anxiety on his face. For […]

It was evening–dark, cool and starry. The earth and water lay hidden in the dusky gloom. Above, the stars were at their brightest. They gleamed and glowed, flashed and scintillated, like jewels fresh from the case. Their fires were many-colored–orange, yellow, and red; and here and there a great diamond, fastened into the zone of […]

He was a tramp–that is all he was–at least when I knew him. What he had been before, I cannot say, as he never told me his history. Of course every tramp has a history, even as every leaf that the winds blow over the fields has its history, and my old tramp doubtless had […]

I “New Year’s, eh?” exclaimed Deacon Tubman, as he lifted himself to his elbow and peered through the frosty window pane toward the east, where the colorless morning was creeping shiveringly into sight. “New Year’s, eh?” he repeated, as he hitched himself into an upright position and straightened his night-cap, that had somehow gone askew […]