CHAPTER XXVIII. 



THKEE OF A KIND. 



V ARLY autumn's frosts had tinged the 

 foliage of the birch, maple, oak, and elm 

 trees, that intermingle in the great 

 pine forests, with a thousand rich 

 colors and shades of gold, brown, olive, 

 pink, and crimson, while the pines, the 

 hemlocks, the firs, and the cedars still 

 wore their dark mantels of perennial green, 

 and all Nature was clad in her sweetest smiles. 

 A solitary woodpecker, perched on the topmost 

 branch of a dead giant of the forest, reaching out 

 far above the surrounding network of leafy branches, 

 from which he might survey the surrounding coun- 

 try, sounded his morning reveille and awaited the 

 coming of his mate. The dry leaves with which 

 mother earth was carpeted, rustled now and again 

 to the bound of the saucy red squirrel, the darting 

 hither and thither of the shy wood-mouse, or the 

 tread of the stupid, half-witted porcupine. The 

 chill October wind soughed through the swaying 

 tree-tops, laden with the rich ozone that gives life, 

 health, and happiness to all animate beings that are 

 permitted to inhale it. 



On such a morning, and amid such a scene of 

 natural loveliness, I left the train at Junction City, 



(288) 



