Tracking The Cat In Maine

When the hunt is over and the men sit around in the long, raking shadows, it's dog talk—warmed perhaps by a fifth of black New England rum—that winds up the day. In common with all hound-dog men, cat hunters bewail the fact that when a hound gets to his peak he's just got one more good year in him. Does the same apply to cat hunters? If so, none will admit it.