Sometimes I talked with one of the company; the room was very dark and I could see no faces.

Then we would start trooping out into the bitterly cold morning air.

There would be many horses and dogs.

We would lead off into the forest and soon (it always happened) I would find myself alone--alone with the dripping trees high around me and the light that seemed to grow no lighter and the intense cold.

Then suddenly it would be that I was the hunted, not the hunter.