The following season, our small band-minus Merle and crew-rendezvoused in Vermont, close to Island Pond, again near the Canadian border. This time we were hunting with Pete Richardson, a burly, bearded Vermonter. Pete's beagles, rn and reared in the Northeast Kingdom, could track an ice cube across the Arctic. What made this second hunt more promising was that the weather was several degrees warmer than during our New York fiasco. The woods were filled with deep snow and bristled with maple saplings and miles of spruce thickets. Hare country.