ANTOINE GARDAPEE. 



CANTO III. CHRISTMAS IN THE FOREST. 



THE Christmas sun was not too bright for a winter 

 day, and there was no wind. I was roused by 

 the loud tapping of the great northern wood- 

 pecker on one of the logs of our house. This large bird 

 is almost extinct to-day, and few young men have seen 

 it alive. Its length was eighteen inches, and its tappings 

 were in proportion. Antoine had been up some time, 

 and was smoking his pipe by the fire, for he was one of 

 those who can smoke before breakfast. When he saw 

 me up he rose, and with a hearty shake said: "Merry 

 C'ris'mas; I'll hope you'll be all well/' and he prepared 

 the breakfast. As I went to the spring to wash I looked 

 at my unshaven face in its glassy surface, and wondered 

 what the good people at home would say if such an ap- 

 parition should walk in on them, for we had no razors 

 nor mirrors, and had been all winter in the wilds of Wis- 

 consin, with only an occasional Indian visitor to look 

 at us. 



The spring near our cabin was the head of a bit of 

 marshy ground which was so filled with springs that it 

 never froze nor was even covered with snow, as it soon 

 melted and drained off into a tributary of the Bad Ax. 

 But on this Christmas morning of 1855 there was a wood- 

 cock feeding in that marsh. I saw it plainly, flushed it, 

 and know that it was a woodcock. Those who have fol- 

 lowed these sketches will credit me with knowing this 

 bird when I see it. Why it was there is a question. It 

 could fly well. 



After breakfast, and the meditative smoking which 



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