254 2C&* eSartren's Storj?. 



within its pools and shallows. I care less for 

 the rod than to feel the rightful habitant is at 

 home. 



The owl's weird cry borne upon the Decem- 

 ber dusk without brings the wintry woods into 

 my room the rustle of dry beech-leaves, the 

 breath of lichens and of pines. All Nature for 

 the instant seems articulate in his cry. You 

 may never meet the fox face to face unaided by 

 the hounds ; but it is a satisfaction to know he is 

 present. Keen of scent and fleet of foot he has 

 passed long before you, evaded you ; yet he is 

 there, somewhere, farther on amid the mystery 

 and silence, in all his lissome grace and supple- 

 ness of sinew. The very footprints of the hare 

 recall the living presence of the hare, his wild 

 beauty and his nimble speed. So that in a 

 swamp or wood tenanted by game this fascination 

 is ever present the living unconfined creatures 

 appearing a component part of the trees and un- 

 dergrowth, with which they blend and become 

 incorporated, just as the shadows belong to and 

 accentuate the strength of the sun. So also in 

 the garden copse, when the mold is starred with 

 Hepatic as and Trilltums, the wild flowers are 

 obliterated for the moment to me when a squir- 

 rel barks or a white-throated sparrow sings. 



In the swamp, on blustering days without, I 



