74 



THE GUIDE TO NATURE. 



home of the muskrats, and, startled by 

 the light as I came along, they would 

 turn from their course, and with 

 a loud splash, would dive under 

 the water, only to reappear, how- 

 ever, a few feet away. One cu- 

 rious fellow, a little bolder than the rest, 

 swam out toward the canoe until within 

 a few feet of it ; then turning, swam up 

 stream, keeping just ahead of the canoe, 

 and turning even- few feet to look again 

 at the light, as if wondering what huge, 

 one-eyed monster was thus invading 

 their quiet domain. 



Soon 1 heard a sound that was new to 

 me — a low whining — somewhat like that 

 made by a porcupine. I soon found the 

 author of it to be a muskrat, and dis- 

 covered him sitting upon a log on the 

 bank of the stream, evidently much 

 troubled about something. Xo doubt I 

 was the cause of it all, and as I came 

 near him. with a jump that almost star- 

 tled me, he plunged into the water and 

 disappeared under my canoe. As I pad- 

 dled along farther up the stream, a 

 swamp sparrow in the bushes near the 

 shore, would now and then burst forth 

 with a little song, as if being disturbed 

 in some sweet dream. Once or twice I 

 heard deer walking along near the shore, 

 but the brush was so thick I could not 

 distinguish them. After making my 

 way up stream as far as I could go, I 

 paddled leisurely back to camp, only dis- 

 turbing, near the mouth of the brook, a 

 flock of black ducks asleep on the sur- 

 face of the water. At my approach, the\ 

 arose, with a loud "quacking," and flew 

 farther out on the lake, where they 

 might rest undisturbed, until daylight. 



As I neared the camp, the loon 

 laughed mockingly, across the lake, as 

 if to say, "Ha! ha! you'll never catch me 

 napping;" and the owl hooted "Good 

 night" as I came out of the cabin and 

 crawled into my sleeping-bag on the 

 ground under the trees, to be lulled to 

 sleep by the gentle swashing of the water 

 against the shore and the sighing of the 

 wind through the tree-tops overhead. 

 It was now 2.00 A. M., and feeling well 

 repaid for my three hours of wandering, 

 and determined to go again at the first 

 opportunity, I closed my eyes, and sank 

 into that deep, refreshing sleep, which 

 is one of the greatest blessings of life 

 in the Maine woods. 



THE REVELATION OF THE WHITE 

 MOUNTAINS. 



BY CAROLINE E. CLARK, NEW YORK CITY. 



There is nothing so delightful, on this 

 tiresome all-day journey to the moun- 



GEORGIANA FALLS, NORTH WOOD- 

 STOCK, N. H. 



tains, as the gradual change from the 

 dust and heat of morning to the cool, 

 clear air of late afternoon. As the car 

 is no longer crowded and noisy, the 

 body relaxes under the influence of a 

 quieter, calmer and cooler atmosphere. 

 How glorious has become the scenery ! 

 What a revelation when beheld for the 

 first time! How beautiful the sunset, 

 dazzling in its contrast to the dignified 

 shadows of the sweeping mountains be- 

 low ; while serenely the new crescent 

 moon rises over the hill-tops on the op- 

 posite side, — one brilliant star following 



