108 
THE MAINE WOODS. 
When we asked Joe in a whisper what it was, he an¬ 
swered, — “ Tree fall.” There is something singularly 
grand and impressive in the sound of a tree falling in a 
perfectly calm night like this, as if the agencies which 
overthrow it did not need to be excited, but worked with 
a subtle, deliberate, and conscious force, like a boa-con¬ 
strictor, and more effectively then than even in a windy 
day. If there is any such difference, perhaps it is be¬ 
cause trees with the dews of the night on them are 
heavier than by day. 
Having reached the camp, about ten o’clock, we kin¬ 
dled our fire and went to bed. Each of us had a 
blanket, in which he lay on the fir-twigs, with his ex¬ 
tremities toward the fire, but nothing over his head. It 
was worth the while to lie down in a country where you 
could afford such great fires; that was one whole side, 
and the bright side, of our world. We had first rolled 
up a large log some eighteen inches through and ten feet 
long, for a back-log, to last all night, and then piled on 
the trees to the height of three or four feet, no matter 
how green or damp. In fact, we burned as much wood 
that night as would, with economy and an air-tight stove, 
last a poor family in one of our cities all winter. It was 
very agreeable, as well as independent, thus lying in the 
open air, and the fire kept our uncovered extremities 
warm enough. The Jesuit missionaries used to say, 
that, in their journeys with the Indians in Canada, they 
lay on a bed which had never been shaken up since the 
creation, unless by earthquakes. It is surprising with 
what impunity and comfort one who has always lain in 
a warm bed in a close apartment, and studiously avoided 
drafts of air, can lie down, on the ground without a shel¬ 
ter, roll himself in a blanket, and sleep before a fire, in 
