18 WOODLAND IDYLS. 



and various other forms of vegetation thrive 

 together in a lowland field never cultivated, 

 rarely pastured. In the soft mud along the 

 margins of the pools the tracks of muskrats 

 and raccoons abound, while along the banks 

 the monkey flowers, prunella, great bell-flower, 

 darkey heads and ferns of two kinds unite to 

 form great masses of green foliage and bright 

 blossoms. Bumble-bees drone, mosquitoes hum, 

 killdees utter their regrets and green herons 

 their coarse scolding cackles as I force my way 

 through the tangled maze. In one place a water 

 moccasin squirms his way across the dark w T ater 

 of a pool and is lost to view in a pile of drift- 

 wood. In another a great horned owl flaps 

 noiselessly like a big bat as he retreats before 

 my advancing form. Soon tiring of the dreary 

 outlook and lack of game, I find my way out 

 into the higher, more open woodland out 

 where the sun's rays occasionally fall, even if 

 they are fierce and hot this August morn. 



Climbing the wooded slope I suddenly hear 

 a scolding chuckle, at first seemingly some dis- 

 tance away, then closer, and again right at 

 hand though I have not moved three paces. 

 Then a glimpse of a hairy form on the side of 

 a poplar, a quick aiming of the gun, a detona- 

 tion, and a fellow mammal has given up its life 

 that the blood in my veins may be renewed by 

 the stored protoplasm of its muscle cells. 



