196 WOODLAND IDYLS. 



open glade. Far above everything else on the 

 slope they tower, as though the earth had sent 

 them forth as tentacles to try and touch the 

 skies. Thus do trees stretch heavenward seek- 

 ing ever the light of sun, the moisture which 

 his winds do bring. 



So far away from human habitation am I 

 that I can just make out the vaunting cry of a 

 cock, the cackle of his mate. The co-o-ing of the 

 dove, the cackle of the flicker and the crooning 

 of the cuckoo here take the place of the sounds 

 made by the barnyard fowls and are more con- 

 genial to my ear; yet the cackle of hen coming 

 from a distance through the morning air is so 

 subdued and softened as to be welcome when 

 other sound is absent. 



The chances which I took with the three-hook 

 set-line yielded hope and nothing more. Even 

 that well repaid me for the setting. Catfish did 

 hook themselves thereto, how many I know not, 

 for they wound it around a submerged log and 

 I had to break the line and leave them there 

 impaled. So with only the memory of hope as 

 my reward I returned along the stream, stop- 

 ping here and there to listen to the music of 

 its waters as they babbled merrily over the 

 boulders. Then climbing the slope above the 

 spring I once more picked a quart of blackber 1 

 ries and raspberries, as I wish to mix their 

 tangs. 



