SWAMP WHITE-OAK BEND. 99 



■which I lifted a minnow, Fundulus multifasciatus. 

 Will it not startle the paleontologist of the indefinite 

 future to chisel from a rock an already labelled fossil? 

 I trust that he will not go mad. 



I was soon within the shadows of the great swamp 

 white-oaks. Here the creek curves gently to the north, 

 and upon its left bank grows a number of these mag- 

 nificent trees. Like all the oaks, they are beautiful at 

 all times, even when bared of every leaf. Like all large 

 trees, they attract birds of many kinds ; but, strangely 

 enough, they were apparently deserted as I rowed be- 

 neath their overhanging branches. 



It makes a vast difference in our impressions of a lo- 

 cality, whether it is silent or noisy, as we draw near. If 

 the former, we are apt to consider it abandoned, and 

 jumping at the conclusion that 



"something ails it now, 

 The spot is curst," 



we hurry by. On the other hand, if the song of a bird, 

 the splash of a turtle, or warning bark of a sqnirrel is 

 heard, we are assured that it is a pleasant place, and pre- 

 pare to tarry. 



To-day it was none of these, but the wake of ay 

 musk-rat as it crossed the creek, or nearly crossed ; when, 

 as though it had forgotten something, it returned to the 

 point from which it started. This may seem too trivial 

 an incident to record, and indeed, a single trip would 

 have been ; but why did the musk-rat return so prompt- 

 ly ? This was what piqued my curiosity, and caused me 



