182 WAKE-ROBIN 



dry branch. It suggested something quite as pleas- 

 ing as the liveliest bird-song, and was if anything 

 more woodsy and wild. As the yellow-bellied wood- 

 pecker was the most abundant species in these 

 woods, I attributed it to him. It is the one sound 

 that still links itself with those scenes in my mind. 



At sunset the grouse began to drum in all parts 

 of the woods about the lake. I could hear five at 

 one time, thump, thump, thump, thump, thr-r-r- 

 r-r-r-rr. It was a homely, welcome sound. As I 

 returned to camp at twilight, along the shore of the 

 lake, the frogs also were in full chorus. The older 

 ones ripped out their responses to each other with 

 terrific force and volume. I know of no other ani- 

 mal capable of giving forth so much sound, in pro- 

 portion to its size, as a frog. Some of these seemed 

 to bellow as loud as a two-year-old bull. They 

 were of immense size, and very abundant. No 

 frog-eater had ever been there. Near the shore we 

 felled a tree which reached far out in the lake. 

 Upon the trunk and branches the frogs had soon 

 collected in large numbers, and gamboled and 

 splashed about the half-submerged top, like a parcel 

 of schoolboys, making nearly as much noise. 



After dark, as I was frying the fish, a panful of 

 the largest trout was accidentally capsized in the 

 fire. With rueful countenances we contemplated 

 the irreparable loss our commissariat had sustained 

 by this mishap; but remembering there was virtue 

 in ashes, we poked the half-consumed fish from the 

 bed of coals and ate them, and they were good. 



