214 HAPS IN THE FIELD 



we call the silence of the deep woods, though 

 it is anything but that, being filled with its 

 own mysterious sounds. The indefinable awe 

 which always steals over one when alone in 

 the solemn woods had taken full possession 

 of me. I could not bear to move or make a 

 sound, and had reached ^ 7 state of tense ex- 

 pectancy as if anything might happen. 



Suddenly on the top of the ledge above 

 my head there began a great crashing among 

 the dry leaves, as if some large beast were 

 rising from his lair. I rose hurriedly, re- 

 membering in a flash how far I was from 

 the bars, how hard it would be to descend 

 safely from the rock, and hastily considering 

 what I should do if the unknown monster 

 started down what now looked like a path 

 toward me. The crashing continued : should 

 I flee? could I outrun any malicious beast? 

 Should I spring open my umbrella at him? 

 Should I get out my " pocket-pistol," pro- 

 vided for a last resort, and loaded, neither 

 with powder nor liquor, but with something 

 to give any biped or quadruped wishing to 

 force an acquaintance upon me, something 

 else to think of for the moment ? 



