34 UPLAND AND MEADOW. 



But now, in midwinter, the water is not sufficiently 

 open to navigate, even in the line of the "bottom 

 springs," which, bubbling up with much force, prevent 

 the ice from wholly covering them. A good substitute, 

 however, is now available. We can walk on the creek, 

 and have the banks in full view. This is a great advan- 

 tage. To ramble along the shore of a stream, in sum- 

 mer or winter, is never satisfactory to the naturalist. 

 Do what he will, he is always unable to see much that 

 is going on, and is himself seen and shunned by every 

 creature that ho most wishes to observe. From the 

 middle of the stream the familiar banks present an un- 

 usual aspect ; it is like visiting a new locality ; and, as 

 every creature living on the bank of a stream has the 

 entrance to its home facing the water, we can now, be- 

 ing on the creek, look into their front doors. The 

 pleasant path on shore may be the roofs of innumera- 

 ble homes of cunning creatures, whose presence we do 

 not suspect while walking over them. 



During the memorably cold and snowy winter of 

 1883-84 I was much struck with the abundance of 

 Jiawks that congregated in the meadows drained by the 

 Poaetquissings Creek. 



The red-tailed buzzard, the rough-legged falcon, the 

 broad-winged buzzard, the peregrine, the goshawk, the 

 merlin, the winter falcon, and a stray eagle were all 

 here, and their various screams, as they circled the air, 

 when the weather was clear, were attractive, if not ex- 

 actly musical. There can be no doubt but that the 

 abundance of meadow-mice was the one great attraction 



