The Pocahontas Times
October 18, 1917
We never felt the draw of the woods any stronger than this year, but Prometheus was a free man compared to us. You will remember that that gentleman, because of his love of humanity, was chained to the rock and suffered from liver trouble. An eagle came every day and ate some of his liver yet never succeeded in consuming it. He stayed there for thirteen generations until Hercules released him.
We felt this way about hunting in the fall twenty years ago, but the difference is that, then, we went to the woods, but now, sullen and bowed and old, we plod along at the work and when the snows come and winter closes down, we wonder why we did not take advantage of the season and go hunting.
That is what comes of getting into a rut.
Many good men and true, light out for the woods this week. They get the hunting fever. Some make excuses and go. Some make a declaration of independence. Some sneak away in the night. Others just go. And whether they kill anything or not, they are better for the experience.
The farmer overwhelmed with his fall work misses a valued hand. He has gone to the woods.
A client wants a few directions from his lawyer and finds that he is in the woods.
The doctor leaves his practice.
It is no use to hunt the hunters.
They will come back in due time and take up the burden of life again…
