On its farther side the hill was yet more sparsely covered, the scattered spruces showing gaps between them where the lumberman’s axe had made havoc. Through these openings, which were as shafts of light amid the evergreen’s waving play, the hunters saw the sun silver a brown pool in the valley. A few maples and birches waved their shrivelling splendors of scarlet and buff at irregular distances from the water. And in and out among these trees moved in graceful woodland frolic four or five large animals,—perhaps more,—their doings being plainly seen by the watchers on the hill.