NIGHT 



mother rabbit with her family, waiting 

 hopefully to be passed but, fearing dis- 

 covery when too late, she led her gam- 

 boling young a fast pace for a little 

 distance to the protecting thicket of 

 young maples. 



Here in the open upper woods the 

 bats circled about in their erratic 

 flight, never seeming to rest or to vary 

 that silent winnowing movement of the 

 wings. In a hollow beech, not far from 

 the path, a mother skunk was building 

 a nest and came through the leaves in 

 her awkward way, making a loud, rust- 

 ling which broke the stillness. She 

 came to the edge of the path and cut 

 the long grass growing there, bending 

 it over with her forepaws and slashing 

 it off with a dull, ripping noise. When 

 she had a sufficient quantity she started 

 backing toward the nest, rolling the 

 grass after her. 



Thus through the gloom of Summer 

 nights these little forest dwellers lived 

 their furtive lives. A thousand vagrant 

 detours marked their tiny trails that 

 led through the tangled copse or round 

 the rugged roots of some great beech 

 115 



