196 BIRCH BROWSINGS. 



I heard the drumming here, and the next day at sun- 

 set at Furlow Lake, the source of Dry Brook, and in 

 no instance was the order varied. There was melody 

 in it, such as a woodpecker knows how to evoke from 

 a smooth, dry branch. It suggested something quite 

 as pleasing as the liveliest bird-song, and was if any- 

 thing more woodsy and wild. As the yellow-bellied 

 woodpecker was the most abundant species in these 

 woods I attributed it to him. It is the one sound 

 that still links itself with those scenes in my mind. 



At sunset the grouse began to drum in all parts of > 

 the woods about the lake. I could hear five at one 

 time, thump, thump, thump, thump, thr-r-r-r-r-r-rr. It 

 was a homely, welcome sound. As I returned to 

 camp at twilight, along the shore of the lake, the frogs 

 also were in full chorus. The older ones ripped out 

 their responses to each other with terrific force and 

 volume. I know of no other animal capable of giving 

 forth so much sound, in proportion to its size, as a 

 frog. Some of these seemed to bellow as loud as a 

 two-year-old bull. They were of immense size, and 

 very abundant. No frog-eater had ever been there. 

 Near the shore we felled a tree which reached far 

 out in the lake. Upon the trunk and branches the 

 frogs had soon collected in large numbers, and gam- 

 boled and splashed about the half-submerged top, like 

 a parcel of school-boys, making nearly as much noise. 



After dark, as I was frying the fish, a panful of 

 the largest trout was accidentally capsized in the 



