/ \\'AS STARTLED. 81 



During this time of close watching, it hap- 

 pened that for a day or two I was obliged to 

 make my visit alone. Why is it that solitude in 

 the depths of the forest has so mysterious an 

 effect on the imagination ? One dreads to make 

 a noise, and though having nothing to fear, he 

 instinctively steals about as if every tree con- 

 cealed a foe. The first morning I sauntered 

 along the lonely paths in silence, admiring for 

 the hundredth time the trunks of the trees, with 

 their varied decorations of lichen and their 

 stately moss-grown insteps, and pausing a mo- 

 ment before the butternut which had divided 

 itself in early youth, and now supported upon 

 one root three tall and far-spreading trees. I 

 had not heard the wren ; and indeed the birds 

 seemed unusually silent, the squirrels appeared 

 to be asleep in their nests, and not a leaf was 

 stirring. Wordsworth's admonition came into 

 my mind : 



" Move along these shades 

 In gentleness of heart ; with gentle hand 

 Touch for there is a spirit in the woods." 



Suddenly something sprang out from under a 

 tree, as I passed, jerked at my gown, and ran 

 after with noisy footsteps. I started, and 

 quickly turned to face my assailant, expecting 

 to see a bear at least. I found instead a dead 

 branch which had caught in my dress and was 



