THE WING-FOOTED 



At length do we emerge from the 

 savanes to a region of gravel and sand 

 twenty-six hundred feet above sea-level. 

 Here, by reason of the nature of the 

 ground, and not because of human inter- 

 vention, the travelling is better; our 

 eyes can be spared to see that on these 

 heights the spring has barely arrived; 

 tamaracks are budding ; birches, aspens, 

 and alders begin to show leaf; cherry 

 and Indian pear are in bloom ; Labrador 

 tea and laurel hint at the flowers to 

 come. Mid-June is a month behind the 

 St. Lawrence littoral in plant and insect 

 life, and the fresh foliage of the spruces 

 is quite untouched by the pest of cater- 

 pillars which is browning the hillsides 

 below. It is not the least lovely spring- 

 coming to one whose happy fortune it 

 has been to welcome the season three 

 times before, in Devon, Yorkshire, and 

 Murray Bay. 



This lateness of trees and flowers 

 promises ill for us in our quest of the 

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