THE STREAM IN WINTER. 187 



Boreas which then sang about my ears has dis- 

 appeared. The mercury stands at 35 F., hav- 

 ing risen from 2 since yester-morn. A snow 

 an inch in thickness has, meanwhile, fallen. 



Along the woodland stream there is an open 

 place in the ice at every ripple and the gurgle 

 of flowing water is music to my soul. Between 

 the ripples a fox has used the ice as a highway 

 while seeking mice and birds among the fallen 

 grasses along the borders of the stream. In two 

 or three places are evidences of a struggle; 

 such as a spot of blood on the surface of the 

 snow, or a bit of gray fur. They are signs of 

 nature's tragedies denoting where a mouse's soul 

 went out into the great unknown; where a 

 mouse's body furnished fuel to keep the blood 

 a-tingling in a fox's veins. 



The common gray rabbit 9 has the sense of 

 hearing acutely developed. His external ears 

 would not be as long as they are except for good 

 reason. One heard my approaching footsteps 

 twenty rods away and scurried forth from his 

 bed of leaves beneath a sheltering juniper. If 



JJepus sylvaticus Bachman. 



