CHAPTER III 

 MAY-TIME IN THE FOREST 



IN 1903 spring came much earlier than usual. 

 The ice went out of the lakes in our region of Maine 

 about the middle of April, more than two weeks 

 ahead of the average date, and when we went into 

 Gordon's camp, the season had completely changed 

 the appearance of the country. The logs that in 

 February were being hauled on to the ice were now 

 floating in a big boom at the foot of the lake. The 

 gate had been hoisted in the dam, and the stream 

 down below, swollen to a freshet pitch, was full of 

 big sticks, tossing and swerving as they shot like 

 arrows down through the white-water rapids. A 

 crew of river-drivers, with long steel-shod pick- 

 poles, lined the banks to guide and push off the 

 logs that often threatened to run aground on the 

 sharp bends in the river. A few weeks before, when 

 winter had held the northland in its grip, I had 

 listened to the shrilling of sled-runners on hard 

 snow and to the snapping of trees in the frost ; now 

 the songs of the earliest birds and the calling of 

 the hylas and wood-frogs mingled with the sound of 

 running water, and our eyes were greeted with burst- 

 ing buds and with green shoots breaking the forest 

 floor, in haste to answer the call of the May sunshine. 



