The morning after the dreadful catastrophe of which I have just spoken, the path in which this terrible tragedy took place was closed, and trees were planted along its length, so that no person could in future pass that way. But the Père Séguin has often shown me the oak, at the foot of which during that fearful night the young peasant suffered such agonies, made such incredible efforts, and drew with such indomitable courage his last breath. This tree is still called by the peasants, "The Widow's Oak," or, "The Oak of the Wolves." CHAPTER XX. Shooting wolves in the summer--The most approved baits to attract them--Fatal error--Hut-shooting--Silent joviality--The approach of the wolves--The first volley--The retreat--The final slaughter--The sportsman's reward--The farm-yard near St. Hibaut--The dead colt--The onset--Scene in the morning--Horrible accident--The gallant farmer--Death of the wolves, the dogs, and the peasant--The wolf-skin drum--Anathema of the naturalists. When the sportsman does not absolutely care about sleeping in his own bed, and will not be denied the pleasure of shooting a wolf himself, a drag is run similar to those we have already mentioned, but other parts of the proceedings are conducted in a manner widely different. In the first place, there is no trap; then, instead of the piece of flesh, the great attraction, being put in an obscure and hidden path, it should, on the contrary, be placed in an open spot, on the border of a wood, in a glade, or in a field on the verge of the forest, in order that the sportsman who is laying in wait, in ambush, may be able to see what is passing; he must, too, conceal himself as much as possible, either in a thicket under the foliage, in a hut made with the boughs of trees, or in a hole dug in the ground; but he should always be so placed that he is against the wind, and if the moon is up he ought to take especial care that he is in the shade. But it sometimes happens that the sportsman, at a moment when there is no time to run a drag,--for instance, after dinner when smoking a cigar, he suddenly takes it into his head to kill a wolf, and it is too late to bait the spot; nevertheless the hunter will have nothing less than his wolf. Before leaving home, therefore, he orders his servant to bring him a duck; this he puts into his pocket, and shouldering his gun, seeks the depths of the forest alone. Having found a favourable spot,--a place where four roads meet is that, if possible, generally chosen,--he hangs the unfortunate duck by the leg to the branch of a neighbouring tree, which, as if divining the part that he is intended to play in the piece, flaps his wings, and begins to cry and quack most vehemently.