112 



AS THEY TAKE THEIR FLIGHT 



There is something pathetic in the eagerness of 

 pent-up humanity to escape from the city into the 

 open world, where all nature is glowing in the life- 

 giving rays of the sun. A sudden appreciation of the 

 charms of this surrounding richness has come just 

 as they have begun to recede and disappear. In 

 earlier days, when the forest, with its endless variety 

 of life crowded in and about on every hand, the joy 

 of a great presence was felt unconsciously. Children 

 called from the clearings in answer to the plaintive 

 cry of the Wolverine that came as the infantile voice 

 of the forest. In following the uncertain sound of the 

 Cowbell they gained an instinctive perception that 

 led them safely through the tangled underbrush of 

 trackless woods. The Loon laughed and called on 

 the Cedar-girt lake. Every night the long howl of the 

 wolves impressed on receptive minds the cruelty of 

 nature's warfare. The Owl cried out in startled sad- 

 ness. There were no bonfires built, but the family 

 gathered around the potash kettle and watched the 

 sparks rising among the invisible branches, and the 

 glowing, breaking, tumbling coals, as the red-hot 

 ** melt *' emitted its tiny blue flames, or glowed, a 



