228 LAND OF THE LINGERING SNOW. 



of the meadow. A few redwing blackbirds a 

 comparatively uncommon bird in this region 

 balanced on the grass and made more noise than 

 their slender numbers justified. A heron rose 

 from the farthest end of the meadow and flew a 

 distance of more than a mile in a semicircle, 

 heading north at first, but ending his journey 

 by a flight southward past the base of Chocorua to 

 a secluded pond under the shoulder of the moun- 

 tain. His measured and majestic flight through 

 the haze, against woods, then sky, then blue 

 mountain-side, was more like the progress of a 

 barge impelled by long, slow-moving oars than 

 the hurrying of a bird. The pond to which he 

 went is known to few. It is shallow and green, 

 swarming with tadpoles and surrounded by 

 sphagnum banks above which rise steep and 

 heavily wooded slopes. It has no outlet save 

 the air, no inlet save the springs which feed it. 

 Deer tracks are always thick about its shores, 

 and the bear, hedgehog, fox, skunk, mink, and 

 gray squirrel are its frequent f ourfooted visitors. 

 From a high hill, north of the meadow and 

 due east of Chocorua, we watched the descend- 

 ing sun mark the close of the last day of spring. 

 On every side the quiet of the forest surrounded 

 us. A house standing near was but an exclama- 

 tion mark to the wildness of the scene, for it 

 had ceased to be the home of man and had 



