IN THE CATSKILLS 



it, and the cold in the latter. The " no-see-ems " 

 left in disgust ; and, though disgusted myself, I 

 swallowed the smoke as best I could, and hugged 

 my pallet of straw the closer. But the day dawned 

 bright, and a plunge in the Neversink set me all 

 right again. The creek, to our surprise and gratifi- 

 cation, was only a little higher than before the rain, 

 and some of the finest trout we had yet seen we 

 caught that morning near camp. 



We tarried yet another day and night at the old 

 stable, but taking our meals outside squatted on the 

 ground, which had now become quite dry. Part of 

 the day I spent strolling about the woods, looking 

 up old acquaintances among the birds, and, as 

 always, half expectant of making some new ones. 

 Curiously enough, the most abundant species were 

 among those I had found rare in most other locali- 

 ties, namely, the small water-wagtail, the mourning 

 ground warbler, and the yellow-bellied woodpecker. 

 The latter seems to be the prevailing woodpecker 

 through the woods of this region. 



That night the midges, those motes that sting, 

 held high carnival. We learned afterward, in the 

 settlement below and from the barkpeelers, that it 

 was the worst night ever experienced in that valley. 

 We had done no fishing during the day, but had 

 anticipated some fine sport about sundown. Ac- 

 cordingly Aaron and I started off between six and 

 seven o'clock, one going upstream and the other 

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