A BED OF BOUGHS. 189 



below us. We did not know how near we were to 

 human habitations, and the report of the lumber- 

 man's mallet, like the hammering of a great wood- 

 pecker, was music to the ear and news to the mind. 

 The air was still and dense, and the silence such as 

 alone broods over these little openings in the primi- 

 tive woods. My soldier started as if he had heard a 

 signal-gun. The sound, coming so far through the 

 forest, sweeping over those great wind-harps of trees, 

 became wild and legendary, though probably made 

 by a lumberman driving a wedge or working about 

 his mill. 



We expected a friendly visit from porcupines that 

 night, as we saw where they had freshly gnawed all 

 about us ; hence, when a red squirrel came and looked 

 in upon us very early in the morning and awoke us 

 by his snickering and giggling, my comrade cried 

 out, "There is your porcupig." How the frisking 

 red rogue seemed to enjoy what he had found. He 

 looked in at the door and snickered, then in at the 

 window, then peeked down from between the raft- 

 ers and cachinnated till his sides must have ached; 

 then struck an attitude upon the chimney and fairly 

 squealed with mirth and ridicule. In fact he grew 

 so obstreperous and so disturbed our repose that we 

 had to " shoo " him away with one of our boots. He 

 declared most plainly that he had never before seen 

 so preposterous a figure as we cut lying there in the 

 torner of that old shanty. 



The morning boded rain, the week to which w* 



