IN THE PAUGUS WOODS. 257 
caps had settled down upon many of the peaks. 
We heard crossbills calling as we left the house. 
Their short, sharp call is much like the English 
sparrow’s alarm-note. A flock of nine settled 
on the spruces by the salting-trough as we went 
past. One was a red bird, two had a trace of 
red, five were brown, with some streaking on 
the sides of the breast, and one was quite yel¬ 
low. One of them was gnawing a long shoot of 
spruce which had already been chewed free of 
needles and left brown and forlorn. Unfortu¬ 
nately we took a dog with us, a black mongrel 
with pleading eyes and no wisdom. He loved 
to zigzag over the country in front of us, and 
to bark at red squirrels. He was a nuisance, 
but very sweet-tempered, as many fools are. 
We took him, hoping that he might hunt rab¬ 
bits, but we wished him in Jericho long before 
the forenoon was over. 
Although cloudy all day, no rain fell until 
evening; consequently birds were astir and abun¬ 
dant. We left the highway at a point where 
an old logging road led southward through the 
spruce swamp, parallel to a stream bearing the 
odd name of Oliverian Brook. Continued far 
enough over ledges and through “harricanes,” 
the road would pass between Paugus and Passa- 
conaway and come out into the Birch Intervale, 
Tamworth. After going in for a couple of 
