PLYMOUTH MAYFLOWERS 141 



cracks the gloss on its leaves with a wan winter- 

 green smile at the success of the deception. But 

 after a little the eye learns to discriminate in win- 

 ter greens and to know the outline of the arbutus 

 leaf and its grouping from that of the others. 

 Then success in the hunt should come rapidly. 

 After all Epigaea and Gaultheria are vines closely 

 allied, and it is no wonder that there is a family 

 resemblance. The checkerberry's spicy flavor 

 permeates leaves, stem and fruit. That of the 

 arbutus seems more volatile and ethereal. It 

 concentrates in the blossom and rises from that to 

 course the air invisibly, an aromatic fragrance 

 that the little winds of the woods sometimes 

 carry far to those who love it, over hill and dale. 

 Given a day of bright sun and slow-moving, soft 

 air and one may easily hunt the Plymouth may- 

 flowers by scent. Even after the grouped leaves 

 are surely sighted the flowers are still to be found. 

 The winds of winter have strewn the ground deep 

 with oak leaves and half buried the vines in them 

 for safety from the cold. Out from among these 

 the blossoms seem to peer shyly, like sweet little 

 Pilgrim children, ready to draw back behind their 



