238 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 



forest; again it hurries down some long incline, 

 rippling and gurgling good-naturedly over its 

 pebble-strewn bed; then gathering itself, it 

 plunges grandly downward, roaring and seeth- 

 ing in its haste. This stream has been fittingly 

 named the Pleasant River. 



Stretching away on all sides is the vast forest 

 threaded by numerous trails, some made by 

 man in his restless search for its wily denizens, 

 others by the wild folk themselves in the count- 

 less years since first it became their abode. 

 Moose and deer, bear and lynx range its shel- 

 tering depths, and many smaller animals here 

 find that degree of solitude which they desire 

 in a permanent abiding place. 



At times these wild folk from the thickets 

 look out upon us, curious as to the character of 

 the strange beings who dare to invade their 

 haunts. Often when twilight steals over the 

 forest in the little clearing is heard the blowing 

 of a startled deer, as he catches the scent of 

 smoke from the smudge fires quite necessary at 

 this season of the year, if one is to enjoy by day 

 or night even a partial relief from the attack 

 of myriads of insects. One evening as darkness 

 was falling a moose stalked stolidly out of the 

 woods, and, passing between the cabins, halted 

 for a moment in the garden, evidently consider- 

 ing the prospects for future feasts, then silently 

 passed into the gloom again. Now and then a 

 hedgehog in broad day pays us a visit, slowly 

 and ponderously working his way along the 

 trail; and he, too, vanishes into the forest. 

 From the many tracks seen in the soft earth, 



