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328 



AUDUBON 



M .; '1 



ill 



II 



111 



If 

 III' 



The traveller, who has pursued his course for many 

 miles over the barrens, is suddenly delighted to see in 

 the distance the appearance of a dark "hummock" of 

 live-oaks and other trees, seeming as if they had been 

 planted in the wilderness. As he approaches, the air 

 feels cooler and more salubrious, the song of numerous 

 birds delights his ear, the herbage assumes a more luxu- 

 riant appearance, the flowers become larger and brighter, 

 and a grateful fragrance is diffused around. These ob- 

 jects contribute to refresh his mind, as much as the sight 

 of the waters of some clear spring gliding among the 

 undergrowth seems already to allay his thirst. Overhead 

 festoons of innumerable vines, jessamines, and bignonias, 

 link each tree with those around it, their slender stems 

 being interlaced as if in mutual affection. No sooner, in 

 the shade of these beautiful woods, has the traveller fin- 

 ished his mid-day repast than he perceives small parties 

 of men lightly accoutred, and each bearing an axe, ap- 

 proaching towards his resting-place. They exchange the 

 usual civilities, and immediately commence their labors, 

 for they too have just finished their meal. 



I think I see them proceeding to their work. Here 

 two have stationed themselves on the opposite sides of 

 the trunk of a noble and venerable live-oak. Their keen- 

 edged and well-tempered axes seem to make no impres- 

 sion on it, so small are the chips that drop at each 

 blow around the mossy and wide-spreading roots. There, 

 one is ascending the stem of another, of which, in its fall, 

 the arms have stuck among the tangled tops of the neigh- 

 boring trees. See how cautiously he proceeds, barefooted, 

 and with a handkerchief around his head. Now he has 

 climbed to the height of about forty feet from the ground; 

 he stops, and squaring himself with the trunk on which 

 he so boldly stands, he wields with sinewy arms his trusty 

 blade, the repeated blows of which, although the tree be 

 as tough as it is large, will soon sever it in two. He has 



