116 Tue Aroostook Woops. 


trout in the usual manner. And now by adding a few flat 
rocks they completed a snug little cave that nature had nearly 
finished for them, close beside the little spring, and place 
therein the baskets of trout, while they make a short journey 
over the ridge to the wild cranberry bog and inspect as to the 
prospect for berries when they come again in the fall for the 
regular outing. Returning to the rips again, they sit down 
to luncheon with appetites well sharpened by the tramp; so 
much so that a pair of moose birds which had called upon 
them were not invited to partake, after which they seemed 
to give lower, sad and mournful notes longer than usual, 
which affects Joe visibly, and he promises next time not 
to forget them. After a quiet smoke they straighten up and 
prepare for the homeward march, again over the trail. First 
they enjoy a good long draught from the almost icy trickle 
that comes tinkling in from between the rocks at the side of 
the stream, filling to the brim and running over their little 
excavation with the clearest, purest water. Then they look 
lovingly away up the stream, upon the rushing water, dotted 
with many a well-known boulder, and upon the rips, and 
then upon the silent, though deep moving waters before 
them, with smiling thankfulness for what they have often as 
now afforded them. Pretty, cheery river, even though they 
leave you far behind, you are not forgotten; they will think 
of you many times and often, and though the actual sound of 
the happy, laughing voices of your bright and pretty waters 
do not reach their ears in reality, yet they will often hear 
you just the same, and always love you; and now as they 
turn their faces from you around toward the camp and home, 
they feel they change to rather a sombre hue, and mirrored in 
the spring they show a cheerless look at parting from you. 
