FROM the deep-frozen midriff of Canada to the near-tropical bottoms of the Rio Grande, an unusual army of 8,000 or more hunters scoured the continent last week. Theirs was a gentle but rugged sport: they were afield from dawn till dark, slogging "Over hill, over dale,/ Thorough bush, thorough brier/Over park, over pale,/Thorough flood, thorough fire . . ." in pursuit of their quarry. When the chase was over, the hunters had no trophies to show, for they did their hunting with nothing more deadly than binoculars and telescopes. They were devotees of...
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