Ten days up among the big trees, where there's snow enough to make a footprint without having to photograph it in order to prove it isn't a fake; where the foxes and the other critters with nice fur coats are sitting 'round waiting to put their little footsies in our traps; where "The Red Gods dwell neath a mystic spell; The red flame glows, And the red blood flows, And a man's a man For a little span."
"The Boy Scouts in A Trapper's Camp"
Thornton W. Burgess
"Creep up wind, sir, without a sound, And bide thy time neath yonder 'mound,' Then knock un over on the ground," Tom Peregrine.
"A Cotswold Village"
J. Arthur Gibbs
For 'neath the shade of tall Oebalia's towers, Where dark Galaesus laves the yellowing fields, An old man once I mind me to have seen- From Corycus he came- to whom had fallen Some few poor acres of neglected land, And they nor fruitful' neath the plodding steer, Meet for the grazing herd, nor good for vines.
"The Georgics"
Virgil