A DAY IN A TAMARACK SWAMP. 187 



men have not recognized. They represent the stark 

 twilight and unsatisfied thoughts which all have." I 

 saw no owls, but the harsh caws of a distant flock of 

 crows which at times were wafted to my ear told, 

 where one was treed and pestered ; for the crow hates 

 an owl as badly as a terrier hates that other " bird of 

 night," the prowling cat. 



The mottled grasshopper, Melanoplus punctulatus 

 (Uhler), frequents the depths of the swamp in small 

 numbers, resting either upon the trunks of the tama- 

 rack trees or the clumps of sphagnum mosses at their 

 base. It is not active in its movements, usually, after 

 one or two short leaps, squatting close to the earth 

 and, seemingly, depending upon the close similarity 

 of its hues to the grayish lichens about it to avoid 

 detection. 



In one of the drier parts of the swamp a prairie 

 rattle-snake gave its shrill warning almost beneath 

 my feet, and mosquitoes of the large striped variety, 

 regular "gallinippers," as the boys call them, occa- 

 sionally had a tendency to taste my flesh ; but these 

 were only minor drawbacks which every wooer of 

 nature must at times endure, if he would see her odd 

 corners as well as her more commonplace ones. 



* * 

 * 



I wrote the gist of the above while sitting deeply 

 in a bed of sphagnum moss, so deep indeed that I 

 could scarcely move my arm while writing. And O, 

 how tired I was ! For 140 miles of railway travel and 

 a five hours' tramp over bog and tussock will tire the 

 average human. 



