102 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 



from the hunter's pursuit. The peculiar 

 cast of the sky, which never seems to be 

 certain, butterflies flitting over snow- 

 banks, probing beautiful dwarf flowerets 

 of many hues, pushing their tender stems 

 from the thick bed of moss which every- 

 where covers the granite rocks. Then 

 the morasses, wherein you plunge up to 

 your knees, or the walking over the 

 stubborn, dwarfish shrubbery, making 

 one think that as he goes he treads down 

 the forests of Labrador. The unexpected 

 Bunting, or perhaps Sylvia, which, per- 

 chance, an"d indeed as if by chance alone, 

 you now and then see flying before you, 

 or hear singing from the creeping plants 

 on the ground. The beautiful fresh- 

 water lakes, on the rugged crests of 

 greatly elevated islands, wherein the Eed 

 and Black-necked Divers swim as proudly 

 as swans do in other latitudes, and where 

 the fish appear to have been cast as 

 strayed beings from the surplus food of 

 the ocean. All all is wonderfully 



