SPECKLED TROUT. 123 



nd accept the situation. The rain had ceased and 

 the sun shone out behind the woods. We had trout 

 sufficient for present needs ; and after my first meal 

 in an ox stall I strolled out on the rude log bridge 

 to watch the angry Neversink rush by. Its waters 

 fell quite as rapidly as they rose, and before sun- 

 down it looked as if we might have fishing again on 

 the morrow. We had better sleep that night than 

 either night before, though there were two disturb- 

 ing causes, the smoke in the early part of it, and 

 the cold in the latter. The " no-see-ems " left in 

 disgust ; and, though disgusted myself, I swallowed 

 the smoke as best I could, and hugged my pallet of 

 straw the closer. But the day dawned bright, and a 

 plunge in the Neversink set me all right again. The 

 creek, to our surprise and gratification, was only a 

 little higher than before the rain, and some of the 

 finest trout we had yet seen we caught that morning 

 near camp. 



We tarried yet another day and night at the old 

 stable, but taking our meals outside squatted on the 

 ground, which had now become quite dry. Part of 

 the day I spent strolling about the woods, looking up 

 old acquaintances among the birds, and, as always, 

 half expectant of making some new ones. Curiously 

 enough, the most abundant species were among those 

 I had found rare in most other localities, namely, the 

 amall water wagtail (Seiurus noveboracensis), the 

 mourning ground warbler, and the yellow-bellied 

 woodpecker. The latter seems to be the prevailing 

 woodpecker through the woods of this i egion. 



