26 THE FRIENDSHIP OF NATURE 



a wind-scarred pine, a red hawk sits 

 watching for prey. The undergrowth 

 is scant, but mosses abound and blend 

 with the veined leaves of the pipsis- 

 sewa. Ferns hang their draperies on 

 everything; frail zones of maiden- 

 hair, sensitive onoclea, the tufted 

 Woodsia, the hay-scented Dicksonia, 

 and feathered asplenium. Fissures in 

 rock and bank still harbour little beasts, 

 — the weasel, mink, skunk, raccoon, 

 and even the fox, and a great horned owl, 

 disturbed, swoops heavily and flies into 

 deeper shade. The ground is spongy 

 and the piney moss makes the foot slip, 

 and the crushed petals of the purple 

 trillium give out the odour of blood. 



Under the hemlocks are scattered 

 pairs of leaves, — broad, oval, rough, 

 and ribbed lengthwise, — do you know 

 their bloom? Look yonder, on a 

 straight round stem is hung a pink- 



