8 LAND OF THE LINGERING SNOW. 



they must have been first embraced by a freez- 

 ing mist as gentle and caressing as a ray of sun- 

 shine. The same ice-kiss had rested upon the 

 bunches of red barberries, the dark berries of 

 the privet, and the sticky, red, cone-shaped 

 masses of the sumac fruit. Even the dead, rus- 

 set leaves hanging from the oaks had a sheet of 

 ice clinging to them which, when slipped off, 

 showed their form and veinings. 



Entering the pine woods where I had previ- 

 ously seen quail, I found the trees in trouble. 

 The great pines were loaded down with ice, and 

 many a branch had broken and fallen under its 

 weight. The surface of the snow was strewn 

 with twigs and branches of every size. A strange 

 roar of falling ice and twigs filled the woods, 

 now and then emphasized by the crash of some 

 greater fall. I found the tracks of one quail 

 and of a rabbit, made doubtless Saturday 

 evening while the snow was still soft ; but other- 

 wise the face of the snow told no tales. It was 

 smooth and shining, as though no dainty feet of 

 mice and squirrels had ever pressed upon it. 

 There were squirrels at work, however. Under 

 one pitch-pine I found a pint of cone chips 

 freshly strewn. Half a mile distant I surprised 

 a red squirrel busy in an old chestnut-tree which 

 had succumbed to its awful burden of ice and 

 fallen mangled in the snow. He fled from me 



