1 2 Bog-Trotting for Orchids 



the appearance of the hoppers used by millers years 

 ago. 



Surely in the heart of the Taconics we are in one of 

 the oldest rock formations of the earth, and the green 

 terraced stairs lead us slowly down to the deep-set 

 valley of the Hoosac, where once slept that ancient 

 lake. All that now remains of that Lake of Dawn is 

 pocketed in the basin under the Hoosac. The shores 

 of Aurora's Lake are lonely and still, save for the 

 marsh thrushes which skim low over the waves and 

 whistle shrilly. The groves of pine to the southeast 

 are the haunts of solitude, and those who wander here 

 can well imagine that the ^olian harps among the 

 whispering trees are repeating a music of ages past, 

 when only wind and waves were known to these hills. 



Amid these damp and reedy shores and swampy 

 woods are tail brakes and delicate Maiden-Hair Ferns. 

 Here, too, the tall and stately Royal-Fern {Osnucnda 

 regalis) flourishes in deep seclusion, sheltered by the 

 low-branching pines along the shore. It grows from 

 two to four feet high in this locality, and is of a 

 deep rich crimson-green tone against the grasses and 

 bushes near. Mounds of moss, marking one of the 

 trees of a primitive forest rotting below the soil, are 

 thickly carpeted with the leaves of the Dog's-Tooth 

 Lily. Indeed, the picturesque paths which lead through 

 these woods wind through a veritable fairy-land of 

 flowers and ferns. One of these trails runs southward 

 through rocky pastures, swamps and thickets, toward 

 the Tunnel's western gate. 



