ALONG THE WATERWAYS 39 



buds had been wrenched off, evidently by a rake, 

 and that many plants were entirely uprooted and 

 drifting, ready to be washed away by the next 

 shower. A shout from a hickory grove just above 

 gave clue to the destroyers. A picnic was in prog- 

 ress, of the sort that always brings disaster upon the 

 flora and fauna of the region where it locates. 



Water Lilies were being fastened around the 

 men's straw hats and at the girls' belts impartially, 

 while the buds, with their long, rubber-like stems, 

 were freely used as return balls to throw into the 

 faces of the unwary. Trowels and jack-knives in the 

 hands of women were uprooting clumps of Maiden- 

 hair and other equally fragile Ferns, to be stowed 

 away under the seats of wagons that stood out in 

 the sun, while the men were engaged in trimming 

 these same vehicles with whole bushes of the Large- 

 leaved Laurel and yards of Ground Pine. A little 

 apart from the others two lads were ripping a foot- 

 wide girdle from the trunk of a magnificent old 

 Silver Birch, the only one of its size for miles 

 around and a well-known landmark. 



As I was about to call out in protest, I felt, 

 rather than saw, a shadow cross the path. Before 

 I could even turn, Time o' Year's voice said: 



"'Sh! Ye can't do nothing. They 're on town- 



