A Hunt for the Pyxie 69 



stratum beneath, where every degree of den- 

 sity could be found, from solid rock to a 

 paste-like mass that we took pleasure in 

 moulding into fantastic shapes, thereby re- 

 newing our dirt-pie days. 



A little later in the year, this bluff, now 

 streaked and spotted, will be green with the 

 broad-leaved sundews, curious carnivorous 

 plants that here take the place of grasses. 

 There is a filiform sundew that grows near 

 by, where the ground is high, if not dry ; but 

 it, too, waits for warmer days. Not so the 

 pyxie. Almost at first glance, as we left the 

 bluff, we saw it, sparkling white, nestled 

 among the gray mats of reindeer-moss, or 

 fringed by shining winter-green still laden 

 with its crimson fruit. 



Here the earth was strangely carpeted. 

 Sphagnum, beautiful by reason of rich color, 

 gray-green moss, and the object of our long 

 tramp, pyxie. No botany does it justice, 

 passing it by with the mere mention of its 

 barbarous name, Pyxidantbera barbulata. It 

 might be thought the meanest of all weeds, 

 but is, in truth, the chiefest glory of this 

 wonderful region. 



Is it strange we regretted that Time would 



