AMONG THE WILD FLOWERS 17 



gray, rocky walls, now past a black pool, then within 

 sight or hearing of a foaming rapid or fall, till we 

 strike the outlet of the long level that leads to the 

 lake. In this we launch our boat and paddle slowly 

 upward over its dark surface, now pushing our way 

 through half- submerged treetops, then ducking un- 

 der the trunk of an overturned tree which bridges 

 the stream and makes a convenient way for the 

 squirrels and wood-mice, or else forcing the boat 

 over it when it is sunk a few inches below the sur- 

 face. We are traversing what was once a continu- 

 ation of the lake; the forest floor is as level as the 

 water and but a few inches above it, even in sum- 

 mer; it sweeps back a half mile or more, densely 

 covered with black ash, red maple, and other de- 

 ciduous trees, to the foot of the rocky hills which 

 shut us in. What glimpses we get, as we steal 

 along, into the heart of the rank, dense, silent 

 woods ! I carry in my eye yet the vision I had, on 

 one occasion, of a solitary meadow lily hanging like 

 a fairy bell there at the end of a chance opening, 

 where a ray of sunlight fell full upon it, and 

 brought out its brilliant orange against the dark 

 green background. It appeared to be the only bit 

 of bright color in all the woods Then the song of 

 a single hermit thrush immediately after did even 

 more for the ear than the lily did for the eye. Pres- 

 ently the swamp sparrow, one of the rarest of the 

 sparrows, was seen and heard; and that nest there 

 in a small bough a few feet over the water proves 

 to be hers, — in appearance a ground- bird's nest in 



