THE Aroostook Woops. 
DY 
258 

too thickly, which we take as a good indication for a fine 
to-morrow. Some little bird, sitting among the trees upon 
the opposite shore, and seeing our fire brightening up, and 
being only just a little bit sleepy, gives us a part of his song, 
reserving the long, joyous strains until sun up in the morning. 
Now and then a far-away fox snaps out his little sharp bark, 
calling his mate to accompany him upon another of his 
nightly rambles, to pounce upon poor bunny if possible, or 
the young and giddy grouse that gets much good advice, but 
will often roost too low. A musquash swimming smoothly 
past without a sound, nor indicating what might be his 
propelling power, though his rudder plainly shows behind, 
is not at all startled while passing through the line of firelight, 
yet dives instantly at the snap of a brand. One wide-awake 
silver roach is yet lying in wait, just beneath the surface of 
the fire-lighted water, often showing his glistening scales 
above as he pops out after some very unfortunate insect which 
should have been quietly sleeping beneath the drooping alder 
leaves. 
Having finished our smoke, the fire burned down to a few 
coals, which even these have a cheerful look as the light breeze 
blows away the white ashes from them and they show again 
brightly, we get us a drink from the cool brook and step 
inside the tent, button snug the entrance and say good night 
to all the furry, feathery, and scaly tribes of forest and stream, 
and get our sleep. 
We are awakened at daybreak next morning by a heavy 
bear leaping quickly by the tent, the ground trembling beneath 
his weight as if a small earthquake were coming. Likely, he 
was on his way home from one of his visits to a settler’s sheep 
pasture, so much elated with his success that he trotted right 
up beside us before taking the hint. 
