4 UPLAND AND MEADOW. 



I marvel much why this should have been, but Oconio 

 did not make it clear, and I forbore, through foolish 

 pride, to ask of him. And let it not be borne against me 

 that, when I reached my home, I wandered to the barn, 

 and writing an ugly word upon the door, sat long and 

 gazed at it. Chagrin doth make one feel very weak, I 

 find, but I set no one an example by speech or act, in 

 thus soothing my feelings in so worldly a manner. 



"While I do yet write of our wild beestes of this 

 country, let me here remark, that while we rejoice tliat 

 great bears have mostly gone far towards the unsettled 

 mountains, still a few do linger with us ; and Oconio re- 

 cently did assure me that he knoweth of a small one 

 that liveth in a great chestnut-tree, not far within the 

 great east woods. . . . With much misgiving that we 

 were to go without my parents' knowledge, but hoping 

 success would secure forgiveness — for a longing heart 

 offers tid-bits to our scruples — we set out, while it was 

 yet dark, on third day ; and it was f restful and stingy 

 for so early in the ninth month. As we passed the 

 growth of dwarf chestnuts bordering the common road, 

 I marvelled at the great companies of squirrels that 

 were then gathering the harvest of nuts; but Oconio 

 chided me for lingering, and, following chiefly his foot- 

 steps, we strode straightway and silently through the 

 wood. There was yet a proper pathway that was read- 

 ily to be seen, which, as I have learned, was that used 

 by the Indians when they passed to Amboy, where they 

 gathered the bounty of the sea. When we had gone so 

 far as an hour's walk taketh one, suddenly Oconio turned 

 into a dense and trackless thicket ; first looking at his 



