WAITING IN THE WILDERNESS 33 



one day struck a tree frequented by him, on the 

 south side of the stream, and killed him. The bolt 

 literally knocked the head off this tree and it threw 

 half a dozen young birds out of a nest in a tree near 

 by. Evidently this other tree had been struck 

 twice before. A few years previously a bolt had 

 run down one side, bursting the bark. Through 

 this break a number of beetles had made their way, 

 to begin work on the vitals of the tree. But Chief 

 Surgeon Woodpecker was often there, and in a 

 length of sixteen feet along this broken trunk had 

 made sixteen holes and had probably removed 

 many a borer. 



Once I saw a large, dignified mountain sheep 

 walk quietly across the grassy opening. He did not 

 see me. On reaching the farther edge he turned 

 about, recrossed the opening to the boulder pile 

 and leaped upon it. After remaining there, statu- 

 esque, awhile, he reentered the woods, stood for 

 a moment, and then disappeared. 



It was impossible to feel lonesome. Eyes and 

 ears were kept busy for the show went ever on. 

 It was a one-ring, a three-ring, sometimes a six- 

 ring show all at once. Too often a number of ex- 

 tra good things were going on together. A squirrel 

 would be up to something, while at the same in- 

 stant two chipmunks would be having a boundary- 

 line dispute. Along with these a robin might be 

 noisy and pessimistic over something that may not 

 have happened, while a rare warbler that I wanted 



