CHAPTER XXXI 



GOOD-BYE TO THE WOODS 



The last woods is a wonderfully interesting biological 

 point or line; this ultimate arm of the forest does not 

 die away gradually with uncertain edges and in steadily 

 dwindling trees. The latter have sent their stoutest 

 champions to the front, or produced, as by a final 

 effort, some giants for the line of battle. And that line, 

 with its sentinels, is so marked that one can stand with 

 a foot on the territory of each combatant, or, as scien- 

 tists call them, the Arctic Region and the cold Tem- 

 perate. 



And each of the embattled kings, Jack-frost and 

 Sombre-pine, has his children in abundance to possess 

 the land as he wins it. Right up to the skirmish line 

 are they. 



The low thickets of the woods are swarming with 

 Tree-sparrows, Redpolls, Robins, Hooded Sparrows, 

 and the bare plains, a few yards away, are peopled 

 and vocal with birds to whom a bush is an abomina- 

 tion. Lap-longspur, Snowbird, Shorclarks, and Pipits 

 are here, soaring and singing, or among the barren 

 rocks are Ptarmigan in garments that are painted in 

 the patterns of their rocks. 



There is one sombre fowl of ampler wing that knows 

 no line — is at home in the open or in the woods. His 



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