XIV 



TKe S'wamp of Oracles — Hoosac 

 Valley 



Science is welcome to the deepest recesses of the forest, for 

 there, too nature obeys the same old civil laws. The little red 

 bug on the stump of a pine, — for it the wind shifts and the sun 

 breaks through the clouds. — Thoreau, Week on the Concord 

 and Merrimack Rivers. 



ON June 6th I departed from New York for 

 the Hoosac Valley, to obtain photographs 

 of my orchids and their haunts. Rosy- 

 faces, golden-slippers, witches' -bells, and 

 milky- white stars all arose from the earth at once in 

 gay array, and disputed their line of order in posing 

 for their pictures. I had sent no forewarning of my 

 coming to the swamps. I fancied I should find more 

 flowers in bloom if I took them by surprise. 



The morning of the seventh, I hurried off" at sunrise 

 through the dewy meadows. I felt sure I was too 

 late for the Showy Orchis and the Ram's-Head Cypri- 

 pedium, the former having faded in Bronx Valley as 

 early as May i8th. The hills were glorious ; the 

 robins, orioles, and bobolinks were carolling joyously. 

 The meadows, still heavy with dew, caused me to 

 choose my path along the edges of the Bone Lot near 

 the old Pond Hole. This I found fringed with pink 

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