260 AT TEE NORTH OF BEARCAMP WATER . 
chattering was at its height the familiar “who - 
hoo , hoo-hoo , who-hoo-hoo-hooo ” of a barred 
owl was heard. The birds became silent and 
most of them disappeared, perhaps to scold the 
real owl. Many of the trees in this belt of 
forest were nearly a hundred feet in height. 
Well up towards the high ridges of Paugus 
our road crossed the Oliverian Brook. The 
point chosen twenty years ago by the lumber¬ 
man - engineer for building his bridge was a 
ravine of singularly picturesque character. 
Thirty feet below its two precipitous banks the 
noisy torrent struggled among its boulders. 
Dozens of dark spruces overhung it, and rank 
upon rank of evergreens lined the banks. In 
the bed of the brook the lumbermen had built 
up in “cob-house” fashion two log abutments 
about twenty-five feet high. From each bank 
immense logs were run out to rest upon the 
abutments, and similar logs formed the central 
span. Then scores of shorter logs were laid 
across from girder to girder, and all were firmly 
bound together by heavy side-logs laid on top 
of and parallel to the girders. We decided to 
cross this bridge, although it was falling to 
pieces. Many of the short logs had rotted off 
and fallen through. We walked upon the gir¬ 
ders, the whole bridge trembling ominously 
under our tread. Our dog, foolish as he was, 
