106 THE OLD SUGAR MILL. 



the road presently crossed another railway 

 track, and then, in a few rods more, came 

 out into the sunny pine-woods, as one might 

 emerge from a cathedral into the open day. 

 Two men were approaching in a wagon (ex- 

 cept on Sunday, I am not certain that I ever 

 met a foot passenger in the flat-woods), and 

 I improved the opportunity to make sure 

 of my course. " Go about fifty yards," said 

 one of them, " and turn to the right ; then 

 about fifty yards more, and turn to the left. 

 That road will take you to the mill." Here 

 was a man who had traveled in the pine 

 lands, where, of all places, it is easy to 

 get lost and hard to find yourself, and 

 not only appreciated the value of explicit 

 instructions, but, being a Southerner, had 

 leisure enough and politeness enough to give 

 them. I thanked him, and sauntered on. 

 The day was before me, and the place was 

 lively with birds. Pine-wood sparrows, pine 

 warblers, and red-winged blackbirds were 

 in song ; two red-shouldered hawks were 

 screaming, a flicker was shouting, a red- 

 bellied woodpecker cried kur-r-r-r, brown- 

 headed nuthatches were gossiping in the dis- 

 tance, and suddenly I heard, what I never 



