J 30 FOREST LIFE IN ACADIE. 



( trunk throws off its first hranelies some 50 feet <above the 



ground, and the light feathery foliage clings round the 

 , summit of an old tree in dense masses, from which pro- 



i' trade the hare twisted limbs which abruptly terminate 



( the column. 



, Perched high up in its branches may be often seen in 



I . winter the sluggish porcupine, whose presence aloft is 



first detected by the keen eye of the Indian through the 

 scratches made by its claws on the trunk in ascending its 

 favourite tree to feed on the bark and leaves of the 

 younger shoots. 



Large groves of hemlock growing on woodland slopes 

 present a noble appearance ; their tall columns never 

 bend before the gale. There is a general absence of 

 undergrowth, thus affording long vistas through the 

 shady grove of giants ; and the softened light invests the 

 interior of these vast forest cathedrals with an air of 

 solemn mystery, whilst the even spread of their mossy 

 carpet affords appreciable relief to the footsore hunter. 

 The human voice sounds as if confined within spacious 

 and lofty halls. 



Hawthorne, describing the wooded solitudes in which 

 he loved to wander, thus speaks of a grove of these 

 trees : — " These ancient hemlocks are rich in many things 

 beside 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. Eavished 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 paralysed. Not many years ago a public highway 



