S66 UPLAND AND MEADOW. 



month, and I sat for two houre on an uneven stump to 

 learn something — anything — of the animals I knew were 

 in the woods. Under a cloth cover, so that it was availa- 

 ble, but wholly hidden, was a little bull's-eye lantern. 

 The knowledge of its proximity, I admit, was a source 

 of comfort. Long minutes, composed of very attenuated 

 seconds, passed and not a sound was heard, other than the 

 wind in the tree-tops. Even this, at times, died away, 

 and during one such interval of absolute silence I heard 

 faint footfalls on the dead leaves. I thought of the 

 lantern, and touched it with my foot to make sure it had 

 not wandered off. The footsteps were then more plain- 

 ly heard, and with them a faint series of squeaky tones, 

 as though there were two animals engaged in conversa- 

 tion. Suddenly the sounds ceased. Had these creat- 

 ures discovered me by some other sense than sight, and 

 so were puzzled as to my identity, as I was of theirs? 

 The suspense, on my part, became unbearable. I slow- 

 ly reached for the cloth that covered my lantern. I re- 

 moved it suddenly, and a glimmer of light was shed on 

 the surrounding trees and road, displaying a pair of full- 

 grown skunks, and then the lantern, overturned by my 

 nervousness, went out. Would that I could have gone 

 out with it! but it was too dark to make any movement 

 safe. The abruptness of the whole proceeding happily 

 proved equally terrifying to the skunks, and they fled 

 without previously committing any revengeful act. 



The last of a dozen matches proved available, and the 

 lantern was relighted. I covered it with care, and again 

 awaited developments. For half an hour, perhaps, I sat 

 with folded hands. I soon found that what few sounds 



