Dedication
TO GRETCHEN
Epigraph
Over a height-of-land the trail
Wanders down to an inland sea
Where never a keel nor a mirrored sail
Has ruffled its broad tranquillity,
Save a golden shadow that fires the blue
When I drift across in my birch canoe....
Swickey shoots the Bear
“Where be they?” she whispered
“Here’s your game,” he said hoarsely
“I didn’t know, Swickey—I thought—there was someone else”