IN THE HEMLOCKS 



timber, and different birds, even with different 

 mammals. Neither the little gray rabbit nor the 

 little gray fox is found in my locality, but the great 

 northern hare and the red fox are. In the last cen- 

 tury a colony of beavers dwelt here, though the 

 oldest inhabitant cannot now point to even the 

 traditional site of their dams. The ancient hemlocks, 

 whither I propose to take the reader, are rich in 

 many things besides birds. Indeed, their wealth 

 in this respect is owing mainly, no doubt, to their 

 rank vegetable growths, their fruitful swamps, and 

 their dark, sheltered retreats. 



Their history is of an heroic cast. Ravished and 

 torn by the tanner in his thirst for bark, preyed 

 upon by the lumberman, assaulted and beaten 

 back by the settler, still their spirit has never been 

 broken, their energies never paralyzed. Not many 

 years ago a public highway passed through them, 

 but it was at no time a tolerable road; trees fell 

 across it, mud and limbs choked it up, till finally 

 travelers took the hint and went around; and now, 

 walking along its deserted course, I see only the 

 footprints of coons, foxes, and squirrels. 



Nature loves such woods, and places her own seal 

 upon them. Here she shows me what can be done 

 with ferns and mosses and lichens. The soil is 

 marrowy and full of innumerable forests. Stand- 

 ing in these fragrant aisles, I feel the strength of 

 the vegetable kingdom, and am awed by the deep 

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