86 UPLAND AND MEADOW. 



recognized my utter helplessness I do not doubt. The 

 little feathered furies dashed at my face with wonderful 

 vehemence, snapping their beaks viciously in my very 

 ears. I feared for the safety of my eyes. I was forced 

 to continually move my head from side to side to avoid 

 them, and finally, in so doing, relaxed ray grasp so far as 

 to slip from the upper to the under side. Here was a 

 dilemma I had not foreseen. Hitherto my weight was 

 equally distributed along the limb of the tree, and the 

 necessity for exertion at a minimum ; now I was forced 

 ■ to cling by my arms and legs crossed over the branch, 

 and to remain in such a position long was impossible. 

 There seemed no alternative but to let go and drop into 

 the creek. I was in utter despair, and then, it seems, 

 the brain puts forth its best efforts. I suddenly thought 

 of the maple branch beneath. Could I reach it with 

 my feet ? A downward glance showed me that I might, 

 but how the deep waters sparkled with glee at the prob- 

 ability of receiving me! Could I not baffle them? 

 Grasping, with all the energy of despair, the elm bough 

 with my hands alone, I let my feet drop, and they both 

 pressed the branch. What a relief ! But, alas ! the 

 maple bough could not sustain the pressure without 

 some yielding, and I was swung between the two, with 

 a firm hold upon neither. There was but one way to 

 proceed. I could not regain the elm — I must trust 

 wholly to the maple. Even when one has but a single 

 chance he often hesitates, hoping, like a fool, for impos- 

 sible aid. In spite of the strain, I faltered, as though I 

 had full faith in Campanius' statement that the creek 

 below me was really "provided with everything that 



