280 AT THE NORTH OF BEARCAMP WATER . 
and fainter, then ceased. Blue jays flew 
through the tree-tops; a great hawk floated by 
above the trees; kinglets and a brown creeper 
lisped to us; chickadees, nuthatches, downy 
woodpeckers, and a great flock of singing sis¬ 
kins came in answer to our whistles; and red 
squirrels scolded us from their tree-strongholds. 
When we reached Swift River, we found it 
broad, still, and without a log or stones to cross 
upon. Having on water-tight hip-boots, I 
waded the stream, bearing my companion upon 
my shoulders. Entering a swamp on the far¬ 
ther shore, we observed fresh hedgehog tracks. 
In one place the fat beast had lain down in the 
snow, and some of his soft quills had frozen to 
his bed and pulled out when he trundled his 
body along again. At every labored step he 
left the print of his body in the snow, making a 
track as conspicuous as a man’s. In a tangle 
of yew branches he had paused and nibbled 
bark from several stems. After following his 
trail a hundred yards or more, we lost it in a 
spruce thicket where the snow had melted. 
At the extreme western end of Swift River 
intervale stands a hill seven or eight hundred 
feet high, having long sloping lines and a 
pointed top. It is called Sugarloaf. Its sides 
are covered with as fine a growth of ancient 
trees as it is often one’s fortune to find in New 
