But the great triumph of the birch is of course the bark canoe. When Uncle Nathan took us out under his little wood-shed, and showed us, or rather modestly permitted us to see, his nearly finished canoe, it was like a first glimpse of some new and unknown genius of the woods or streams. It sat there on the chips and shavings and fragments of bark like some shy delicate creature just emerged from its hiding-place, or like some wild flower just opened. It was the first boat of the kind I had ever seen, and it filled my eye completely. What woodcraft it indicated, and what a wild free life, sylvan27 life, it promised! It had such a fresh, aboriginal28 look as I had never before seen in any kind of handiwork. Its clear yellow-red color would have become the cheek of an Indian maiden29. Then its supple30 curves and swells31, its sinewy32 stays and thwarts33, its bow-like contour, its tomahawk stem and stern rising quickly and sharply from its frame, were all vividly35 suggestive of the race from which it came. An old Indian had taught Uncle Nathan the art, and the soul of the ideal red man looked out of the boat before us. Uncle Nathan had spent two days ranging the mountains looking for a suitable tree, and had worked nearly a week on the craft. It was twelve feet long, and would seat and carry five men nicely. Three trees contribute to the making of a canoe besides the birch, namely, the white cedar for ribs36 and lining37, the spruce for roots and fibres to sew its joints38 and bind39 its frame, and the pine for pitch or rosin to stop its seams and cracks. It is hand-made and home-made, or rather wood-made, in a sense that no other craft is, except a dug-out, and it suggests a taste and a refinement40 that few products of civilization realize. The design of a savage41, it yet looks like the thought of a poet, and its grace and fitness haunt the imagination. I suppose its production was the inevitable42 result of the Indian's wants and surroundings, but that does not detract from its beauty. It is, indeed, one of the fairest flowers the thorny43 plant of necessity ever bore. Our canoe, as I have intimated, was not yet finished when we first saw it, nor yet when we took it up, with its architect, upon our metaphorical44 backs and bore it to the woods. It lacked part of its cedar lining and the rosin upon its joints, and these were added after we reached our destination.
Though we were not indebted to the birch-tree for our guide, Uncle Nathan, as he was known in all the country, yet he matched well these woodsy products and conveniences. The birch-tree had given him a large part of his tuition, and kneeling in his canoe and making it shoot noiselessly over the water with that subtle yet indescribably expressive45 and athletic46 play of the muscles of the back and shoulders, the boat and the man seemed born of the same spirit. He had been a hunter and trapper for over forty years; he had grown gray in the woods, had ripened47 and matured there, and everything about him was as if the spirit of the woods had had the ordering of it; his whole make-up was in a minor48 and subdued49 key, like the moss50 and the lichens51, or like the protective coloring of the game,—everything but his quick sense and penetrative glance. He was as gentle and modest as a girl; his sensibilities were like plants that grow in the shade. The woods and the solitudes52 had touched him with their own softening53 and refining influence; had indeed shed upon his soil of life a rich deep leaf mould that was delightful54, and that nursed, half concealed55, the tenderest and wildest growths. There was grit57 enough back of and beneath it all, but he presented none of the rough and repelling58 traits of character of the conventional backwoods-man. In the spring he was a driver of logs on the Kennebec, usually having charge of a large gang of men; in the winter he was a solitary59 trapper and hunter in the forests.
Our first glimpse of Maine waters was Pleasant Pond, which we found by following a white, rapid, musical stream from the Kennebec three miles back into the mountains. Maine waters are for the most part dark-complexioned, Indian-colored streams, but Pleasant Pond is a pale-face among them both in name and nature. It is the only strictly60 silver lake I ever saw. Its waters seem almost artificially white and brilliant, though of remarkable61 transparency. I think I detected minute shining motes62 held in suspension in it. As for the trout63 they are veritable bars of silver until you have cut their flesh, when they are the reddest of gold. They have no crimson64 or other spots, and the straight lateral65 line is but a faint pencil mark. They appeared to be a species of lake trout peculiar66 to these waters, uniformly from ten to twelve inches in length. And these beautiful fish, at the time of our visit (last of August) at least, were to be taken only in deep water upon a hook baited with salt pork. And then you needed a letter of introduction to them. They were not to be tempted67 or cajoled by strangers. We did not succeed in raising a fish, although instructed how it was to be done, until one of the natives, a young and obliging farmer living hard by, came and lent his countenance69 to the enterprise. I sat in one end of the boat and he in the other; my pork was the same as his, and I maneuvered70 it as directed, and yet those fish knew his hook from mine in sixty feet of water, and preferred it four times in five. Evidently they did not bite because they were hungry, but solely71 for old acquaintance' sake.
Pleasant Pond is an irregular sheet of water, two miles or more in its greatest diameter, with high, rugged72 mountains rising up from its western shore, and low rolling hills sweeping73 back from its eastern and northern, covered by a few sterile74 farms. I was never tired, when the wind was still, of floating along its margin75 and gazing down into its marvelously translucent76 depths. The boulders77 and fragments of rocks were seen, at a depth of twenty-five or thirty feet, strewing79 its floor, and apparently80 as free from any covering of sediment81 as when they were dropped there by the old glaciers82 aeons ago. Our camp was amid a dense83 grove84 of second growth of white pine on the eastern shore, where, for one, I found a most admirable cradle in a little depression, outside of the tent, carpeted with pine needles, in which to pass the night. The camper-out is always in luck if he can find, sheltered by the trees, a soft hole in the ground, even if he has a stone for a pillow. The earth must open its arms a little for us even in life, if we are to sleep well upon its bosom85. I have often heard my grand-father, who was a soldier of the Revolution, tell with great gusto how he once bivouacked in a little hollow made by the overturning of a tree, and slept so soundly that he did not wake up till his cradle was half full of water from a passing shower.
What bird or other creature might represent the divinity of Pleasant Pond I do not know, but its demon86, as of most northern inland waters, is the loon87, and a very good demon he is too, suggesting something not so much malevolent88, as arch, sardonic89, ubiquitous, circumventing90, with just a tinge91 of something inhuman92 and uncanny. His fiery93 red eyes gleaming forth from that jet-black head are full of meaning. Then his strange horse laughter by day and his weird94, doleful cry at night, like that of a lost and wandering spirit, recall no other bird or beast. He suggests something almost supernatural in his alertness and amazing quickness, cheating the shot and the bullet of the sportsman out of their aim. I know of but one other bird so quick, and that is the humming-bird, which I have never been able to kill with a gun. The loon laughs the shot-gun to scorn, and the obliging young farmer above referred to told me he had shot at them hundreds of times with his rifle, without effect,—they always dodged96 his bullet. We had in our party a breach-loading rifle, which weapon is perhaps an appreciable97 moment of time quicker than the ordinary muzzleloader, and this the poor loon could not or did not dodge95. He had not timed himself to that species of fire-arm, and when, with his fellow, he swam about within rifle range of our camp, letting off volleys of his wild ironical98 ha-ha, he little suspected the dangerous gun that was matched against him. As the rifle cracked both loons made the gesture of diving, but only one of them disappeared beneath the water; and when he came to the surface in a few moments, a hundred or more yards away, and saw his companion did not follow, but was floating on the water where he had last seen him, he took the alarm and sped away in the distance. The bird I had killed was a magnificent specimen99, and I looked him over with great interest. His glossy100 checkered101 coat, his banded neck, his snow-white breast, his powerful lance-shaped beak102, his red eyes, his black, thin, slender, marvelously delicate feet and legs, issuing from his muscular thighs103, and looking as if they had never touched the ground, his strong wings well forward while his legs were quite at the apex104, and the neat, elegant model of the entire bird, speed and quickness and strength stamped upon every feature,—all delighted and lingered in the eye. The loon appears like anything but a silly bird, unless you see him in some collection, or in the shop of the taxidermist, where he usually looks very tame and goose-like. Nature never meant the loon to stand up, or to use his feet and legs for other purposes than swimming. Indeed, he cannot stand except upon his tail in a perpendicular105 attitude, but in the collections he is poised106 upon his feet like a barn-yard fowl107, all the wildness and grace and alertness goes out of him. My specimen sits upon a table as upon the surface of the water, his feet trailing behind him, his body low and trim, his head elevated and slightly turned as if in the act of bringing that fiery eye to bear upon you, and vigilance and power stamped upon every lineament.
The loon is to the fishes what the hawk34 is to the birds; he swoops108 down to unknown depths upon them, and not even the wary109 trout can elude110 him. Uncle Nathan said he had seen the loon disappear and in a moment come up with a large trout, which he would cut in two with his strong beak, and swallow piecemeal111. Neither the loon nor the otter112 can bolt a fish under the water; he must come to the surface to dispose of it. (I once saw a man eat a cake under water in London.) Our guide told me he had seen the parent loon swimming with a single young one upon its back. When closely pressed it dove, or "div" as he would have it, and left the young bird sitting upon the water. Then it too disappeared, and when the old one returned and called, it came out from the shore. On the wing overhead, the loon looks not unlike a very large duck, but when it alights it ploughs into the water like a bombshell. It probably cannot take flight from the land, as the one Gilbert White saw and describes in his letters was picked up in a field, unable to launch itself into the air.
From Pleasant Pond we went seven miles through the woods to Moxie Lake, following an overgrown lumberman's "tote" road, our canoe and supplies, etc., hauled on a sled by the young farmer with his three-year-old steers113. I doubt if birch-bark ever made rougher voyage than that. As I watched it above the bushes, the sled and the luggage being hidden, it appeared as if tossed in the wildest and most tempestuous114 sea. When the bushes closed above it I felt as if it had gone down, or been broken into a hundred pieces. Billows of rocks and logs, and chasms115 of creeks116 and spring runs, kept it rearing and pitching in the most frightful118 manner. The steers went at a spanking119 pace; indeed, it was a regular bovine120 gale121; but their driver clung to their side amid the brush and boulders with desperate tenacity122, and seemed to manage them by signs and nudges, for he hardly uttered his orders aloud. But we got through without any serious mishap123, passing Mosquito Creek117 and Mosquito Pond, and flanking Mosquito Mountain, but seeing no mosquitoes, and brought up at dusk at a lumberman's old hay-barn, standing124 in the midst of a lonely clearing on the shores of Moxie Lake.
Here we passed the night, and were lucky in having a good roof over our heads, for it rained heavily. After we were rolled in our blankets and variously disposed upon the haymow, Uncle Nathan lulled125 us to sleep by a long and characteristic yarn126.
I had asked him, half jocosely127, if he believed in "spooks"; but he took my question seriously, and without answering it directly, proceeded to tell us what he himself had known and witnessed. It was, by the way, extremely difficult either to surprise or to steal upon any of Uncle Nathan's private opinions and beliefs about matters and things. He was as shy of all debatable subjects as a fox is of a trap. He usually talked in a circle, just as he hunted moose and caribou128, so as not to approach his point too rudely and suddenly. He would keep on the lee side of his interlocutor in spite of all one could do. He was thoroughly129 good and reliable, but the wild creatures of the woods, in pursuit of which he had spent so much of his life, had taught him a curious gentleness and indirection, and to keep himself in the back-ground; he was careful that you should not scent130 his opinions upon any subject at all polemic131, but he would tell you what he had seen and known. What he had seen and known about spooks was briefly132 this:—In company with a neighbor he was passing the night with an old recluse133 who lived somewhere in these woods. Their host was an Englishman, who had the reputation of having murdered his wife some years before in another part of the country, and, deserted134 by his grown-up children, was eking135 out his days in poverty amid these solitudes. The three men were sleeping upon the floor, with Uncle Nathan next to a rude partition that divided the cabin into two rooms. At his head there was a door that opened into this other apartment. Late at night, Uncle Nathan said, he awoke and turned over, and his mind was occupied with various things, when he heard somebody behind the partition. He reached over and felt that both of his companions were in their places beside him, and he was somewhat surprised. The person, or whatever it was, in the other room moved about heavily, and pulled the table from its place beside the wall to the middle of the floor. "I was not dreaming," said Uncle Nathan; "I felt of my eyes twice to make sure, and they were wide open." Presently the door opened; he was sensible of the draught136 upon his head, and a woman's form stepped heavily past him; he felt the "swirl137" of her skirts as she went by. Then there was a loud noise in the room as if some one had fallen their whole length upon the floor. "It jarred the house," said he, "and woke everybody up. I asked old Mr. ——— if he heard that noise. 'Yes,' said he, 'it was thunder.' But it was not thunder, I know that;" and then added, "I was no more afraid than I am this minute. I never was the least mite138 afraid in my life. And my eyes were wide open," he repeated; "I felt of them twice; but whether that was the speret of that man's murdered wife or not I cannot tell. They said she was an uncommon139 heavy woman." Uncle Nathan was a man of unusually quick and acute senses, and he did not doubt their evidence on this occasion any more than he did when they prompted him to level his rifle at a bear or a moose.
Moxie Lake lies much lower than Pleasant Pond, and its waters compared with those of the latter are as copper140 compared with silver. It is very irregular in shape; now narrowing to the dimensions of a slow moving grassy141 creek, then expanding into a broad deep basin with rocky shores, and commanding the noblest mountain scenery. It is rarely that the pond-lily and the speckled trout are found together,—the fish the soul of the purest spring water, the flower the transfigured spirit of the dark mud and slime of sluggish142 summer streams and ponds; yet in Moxie they were both found in perfection. Our camp was amid the birches, poplars, and white cedars143 near the head of the lake, where the best fishing at this season was to be had. Moxie has a small oval head, rather shallow, but bumpy144 with rocks; a long, deep neck, full of springs, where the trout lie; and a very broad chest, with two islands tufted with pine-trees for breasts. We swam in the head, we fished in the neck, or in a small section of it, a space about the size of the Adam's apple, and we paddled across and around the broad expanse below. Our birch bark was not finished and christened till we reached Moxie. The cedar lining was completed at Pleasant Pond, where we had the use of a bateau, but the rosin was not applied to the seams till we reached this lake. When I knelt down in it for the first time and put its slender maple paddle into the water, it sprang away with such quickness and speed that it disturbed me in my seat. I had spurred a more restive145 and spirited steed than I was used to. In fact, I had never been in a craft that sustained so close a relation to my will, and was so responsive to my slightest wish. When I caught my first large trout from it, it sympathized a little too closely, and my enthusiasm started a leak, which, however, with a live coal and a piece of rosin, was quickly ended. You cannot perform much of a war-dance in a birch-bark canoe: better wait till you get on dry land. Yet as a boat it is not so shy and "ticklish146" as I had imagined. One needs to be on the alert, as becomes a sportsman and an angler, and in his dealings with it must charge himself with three things,—precision, moderation, and circumspection147.
Trout weighing four and five pounds have been taken at Moxie, but none of that size came to our hand. I realized the fondest hopes I had dared to indulge in when I hooked the first two-pounder of my life, and my extreme solicitude148 lest he get away I trust was pardonable. My friend, in relating the episode in camp, said I implored149 him to row me down in the middle of the lake that I might have room to manoeuver my fish. But the slander150 has barely a grain of truth in it. The water near us showed several old stakes broken off just below the surface, and my fish was determined151 to wrap my leader about one of these stakes; it was only for the clear space a few yards farther out that I prayed. It was not long after that my friend found himself in an anxious frame of mind. He hooked a large trout, which came home on him so suddenly that he had not time to reel up his line, and in his extremity152 he stretched his tall form into the air and lifted up his pole to an incredible height. He checked the trout before it got under the boat, but dared not come down an inch, and then began his amusing further elongation in reaching for his reel with one hand while he carried it ten feet into the air with the other. A step-ladder would perhaps have been more welcome to him just then than at any other moment during his life. But the trout was saved, though my friend's buttons and suspenders suffered.
We learned a new trick in fly-fishing here, worth disclosing. It was not one day in four that the trout would take the fly on the surface. When the south wind was blowing and the clouds threatened rain, they would at times, notably153 about three o'clock, rise handsomely. But on all other occasions it was rarely that we could entice154 them up through the twelve or fifteen feet of water. Earlier in the season they are not so lazy and indifferent, but the August languor155 and drowsiness156 were now upon them. So we learned by a lucky accident to fish deep for them, even weighting our leaders with a shot, and allowing the flies to sink nearly to the bottom. After a moment's pause we would draw them slowly up, and when half or two thirds of the way to the top the trout would strike, when the sport became lively enough. Most of our fish were taken in this way. There is nothing like the flash and the strike at the surface, and perhaps only the need of food will ever tempt68 the genuine angler into any more prosaic157 style of fishing; but if you must go below the surface, a shotted leader is the best thing to use.
Our camp-fire at night served more purposes than one; from its embers and flickering158 shadows, Uncle Nathan read us many a tale of his life in the woods. They were the same old hunter's stories, except that they evidently had the merit of being strictly true, and hence were not very thrilling or marvelous. Uncle Nathan's tendency was rather to tone down and belittle159 his experiences than to exaggerate them. If he ever bragged160 at all (and I suspect he did just a little, when telling us how he outshot one of the famous riflemen of the American team, whom he was guiding through these woods), he did it in such a sly, round-about way that it was hard to catch him at it. His passage with the rifleman referred to shows the difference between the practical off-hand skill of the hunter in the woods and the science of the long-range target hitter. Mr. Bull's Eye had heard that his guide was a capital shot and had seen some proof of it, and hence could not rest till he had had a trial of skill with him. Uncle Nathan, being the challenged party, had the right to name the distance and the conditions. A piece of white paper the size of a silver dollar was put upon a tree twelve rods off, the contestants161 to fire three shots each off-hand. Uncle Nathan's first bullet barely missed the mark, but the other two were planted well into it. Then the great rifleman took his turn, and missed every time.
"By hemp162!" said Uncle Nathan, "I was sorry I shot so well, Mr. ——— took it so to heart; and I had used his own rifle, too. He did not get over it for a week."
But far more ignominious163 was the failure of Mr. Bull's Eye when he saw his first bear. They were paddling slowly and silently down Dead River, when the guide heard a slight noise in the bushes just behind a little bend. He whispered to the rifleman, who sat kneeling in the bow of the boat, to take his rifle. But instead of doing so he picked up his two-barreled shot-gun. As they turned the point, there stood a bear not twenty yards away, drinking from the stream. Uncle Nathan held the canoe, while the man who had come so far in quest of this very game was trying to lay down his shot-gun and pick up his rifle. "His hand moved like the hand of a clock," said Uncle Nathan, "and I could hardly keep my seat. I knew the bear would see us in a moment more, and run." Instead of laying his gun by his side, where it belonged, he reached it across in front of him and laid it upon his rifle, and in trying to get the latter from under it a noise was made; the bear heard it and raised his head. Still there was time, for as the bear sprang into the woods he stopped and looked back,—"as I knew he would," said the guide; yet the marksman was not ready. "By hemp! I could have shot three bears," exclaimed Uncle Nathan, "while he was getting that rifle to his face!"
Poor Mr. Bull's Eye was deeply humiliated164. "Just the chance I had been looking for," he said, "and my wits suddenly left me."
As a hunter Uncle Nathan always took the game on its own terms, that of still-hunting. He even shot foxes in this way, going into the fields in the fall just at break of day, and watching for them about their mousing haunts. One morning, by these tactics, he shot a black fox; a fine specimen, he said, and a wild one, for he stopped and looked and listened every few yards.
He had killed over two hundred moose, a large number of them at night on the lakes. His method was to go out in his canoe and conceal56 himself by some point or island, and wait till he heard the game. In the fall the moose comes into the water to eat the large fibrous roots of the pond-lilies. He splashes along till he finds a suitable spot, when he begins feeding, sometimes thrusting his bead165 and neck several feet under water. The hunter listens, and when the moose lifts his head and the rills of water run from it, and he hears him "swash" the lily roots about to get off the mud, it is his time to start. Silently as a shadow he creeps up on the moose, who by the way, it seems, never expects the approach of danger from the water side. If the hunter accidentally makes a noise the moose looks toward the shore for it. There is always a slight gleam on the water, Uncle Nathan says, even in the darkest night, and the dusky form of the moose can be distinctly seen upon it. When the hunter sees this darker shadow he lifts his gun to the sky and gets the range of its barrels, then lowers it till it covers the mark, and fires.
The largest moose Uncle Nathan ever killed is mounted in the State House at Augusta. He shot him while hunting in winter on snow-shoes. The moose was reposing166 upon the ground, with his head stretched out in front of him, as one may sometimes see a cow resting. The position was such that only a quartering shot through the animal's hip26 could reach its heart. Studying the problem carefully, and taking his own time, the hunter fired. The moose sprang into the air, turned, and came with tremendous strides straight toward him. "I knew he had not seen or scented167 me," said Uncle Nathan, "but, by hemp, I wished myself somewhere else just then; for I was lying right down in his path." But the noble animal stopped, a few yards short, and fell dead with a bullet-hole through his heart.
When the moose yard in the winter, that is, restrict their wanderings to a well-defined section of the forest or mountain, trampling168 down the snow and beating paths in all directions, they browse169 off only the most dainty morsels170 first; when they go over the ground a second time they crop a little cleaner; the third time they sort still closer, till by and by nothing is left. Spruce, hemlock171, poplar, the barks of various trees, everything within reach, is cropped close. When the hunter comes upon one of these yards the problem for him to settle is, Where are the moose? for it is absolutely necessary that he keep on the lee side of them. So he considers the lay of the land, the direction of the wind, the time of day, the depth of the snow, examines the spoor, the cropped twigs172, and studies every hint and clew like a detective. Uncle Nathan said he could not explain to another how he did it, but he could usually tell in a few minutes in what direction to look for the game. His experience had ripened into a kind of intuition or winged reasoning that was above rules.
He said that most large game, deer, caribou, moose, bear, when started by the hunter and not much scared, were sure to stop and look back before disappearing from sight: he usually waited for this last and best chance to fire. He told us of a huge bear he had seen one morning while still-hunting foxes in the fields; the bear saw him, and got into the woods before he could get a good shot. In her course some distance up the mountain was a bald, open spot, and he felt sure when she crossed this spot she would pause and look behind her; and sure enough, like Lot's wife, her curiosity got the better of her; she stopped to have a final look, and her travels ended there and then.
Uncle Nathan had trapped and shot a great many bears, and some of his experiences revealed an unusual degree of sagacity in this animal. One April, when the weather began to get warm and thawy, an old bear left her den19 in the rocks and built a large, warm nest of grass, leaves, and the bark of the white cedar, under a tall balsam fir that stood in a low, sunny, open place amid the mountains. Hither she conducted her two cubs174, and the family began life in what might be called their spring residence. The tree above them was for shelter, and for refuge for the cubs in case danger approached, as it soon did in the form of Uncle Nathan. He happened that way soon after the bear had moved. Seeing her track in the snow, he concluded to follow it. When the bear had passed, the snow had been soft and sposhy, and she had "slumped," he said, several inches. It was now hard and slippery. As he neared the tree the track turned and doubled, and tacked175 this way and that, and led through the worst brush and brambles to be found. This was a shrewd thought of the old bear; she could thus hear her enemy coming a long time before he drew very near. When Uncle Nathan finally reached the nest, he found it empty, but still warm. Then he began to circle about and look for the bear's footprints or nail-prints upon the frozen snow. Not finding them the first time, he took a larger circle, then a still larger; finally he made a long detour176, and spent nearly an hour searching for some clew to the direction the bear had taken, but all to no purpose. Then he returned to the tree and scrutinized177 it. The foliage178 was very dense, but presently he made out one of the cubs near the top, standing up amid the branches, and peering down at him. This he killed. Further search only revealed a mass of foliage apparently more dense than usual, but a bullet sent into it was followed by loud whimpering and crying, and the other baby bear came tumbling down. In leaving the place, greatly puzzled as to what had become of the mother bear, Uncle Nathan followed another of her frozen tracks, and after about a quarter of a mile saw beside it, upon the snow, the fresh trail he had been in search of. In making her escape the bear had stepped exactly in her old tracks that were hard and icy, and had thus left no mark till she took to the snow again.
During his trapping expeditions into the woods in midwinter, I was curious to know how Uncle Nathan passed the nights, as we were twice pinched with the cold at that season in our tent and blankets. It was no trouble to keep warm, he said, in the coldest weather. As night approached, he would select a place for his camp on the side of a hill. With one of his snow-shoes he would shovel180 out the snow till the ground was reached, carrying the snow out in front, as we scrape the earth out of the side of a hill to level up a place for the house and yard. On this level place, which, however, was made to incline slightly toward the hill, his bed of boughs was made. On the ground he had uncovered he built his fire. His bed was thus on a level with the fire, and the heat could not thaw173 the snow under him and let him down, or the burning logs roll upon him. With a steep ascent181 behind it the fire burned better, and the wind was not so apt to drive the smoke and blaze in upon him. Then, with the long, curving branches of the spruce stuck thickly around three sides of the bed, and curving over and uniting their tops above it, a shelter was formed that would keep out the cold and the snow, and that would catch and retain the warmth of the fire. Rolled in his blanket in such a nest, Uncle Nathan had passed hundreds of the most frigid182 winter nights.
One day we made an excursion of three miles through the woods to Bald Mountain, following a dim trail. We saw, as we filed silently along, plenty of signs of caribou, deer, and bear, but were not blessed with a sight of either of the animals themselves. I noticed that Uncle Nathan, in looking through the woods, did not hold his head as we did, but thrust it slightly forward, and peered under the branches like a deer or other wild creature.
The summit of Bald Mountain was the most impressive mountain-top I had ever seen, mainly, perhaps, because it was one enormous crown of nearly naked granite183. The rock had that gray, elemental, eternal look which granite alone has. One seemed to be face to face with the gods of the fore-world. Like an atom, like a breath of to-day, we were suddenly confronted by abysmal184 geologic185 time,—the eternities past and the eternities to come. The enormous cleavage of the rocks, the appalling186 cracks and fissures187, the rent boulders, the smitten188 granite floors, gave one a new sense of the power of heat and frost. In one place we noticed several deep parallel grooves189, made by the old glaciers. In the depressions on the summit there was a hard, black, peaty-like soil that looked indescribably ancient and unfamiliar190. Out of this mould, that might have come from the moon or the interplanetary spaces, were growing mountain cranberries and blueberries or huckleberries. We were soon so absorbed in gathering191 the latter that we were quite oblivious192 of the grandeurs about us. It is these blueberries that attract the bears. In eating them, Uncle Nathan said, they take the bushes in their mouths, and by an upward movement strip them clean of both leaves and berries. We were constantly on the lookout193 for the bears, but failed to see any. Yet a few days afterward194, when two of our party returned here and encamped upon the mountain, they saw five during their stay, but failed to get a good shot. The rifle was in the wrong place each time. The man with the shot-gun saw an old bear and two cubs lift themselves from behind a rock and twist their noses around for his scent, and then shrink away. They were too far off for his buckshot. I must not forget the superb view that lay before us, a wilderness of woods and waters stretching away to the horizon on every band. Nearly a dozen lakes and ponds could be seen, and in a clearer atmosphere the foot of Moosehead Lake would have been visible. The highest and most striking mountain to be seen was Mount Bigelow, rising above Dead River, far to the west, and its two sharp peaks notching195 the horizon like enormous saw-teeth. We walked around and viewed curiously196 a huge boulder78 on the top of the mountain that had been split in two vertically197, and one of the halves moved a few feet out of its bed. It looked recent and familiar, but suggested gods instead of men. The force that moved the rock had plainly come from the north. I thought of a similar boulder I had seen not long before on the highest point of the Shawangunk Mountains in New York, one side of which is propped199 up with a large stone, as wall-builders prop198 up a rock to wrap a chain around it. The rock seems poised lightly, and has but a few points of bearing. In this instance, too, the power had come from the north.
The prettiest botanical specimen my trip yielded was a little plant that bears the ugly name of horned bladderwort (Utricularia cornuta), and which I found growing in marshy200 places along the shores of Moxie Lake. It has a slender, naked stem nearly a foot high, crowned by two or more large deep yellow flowers,—flowers the shape of little bonnets201 or hoods202. One almost expected to see tiny faces looking out of them. This illusion is heightened by the horn or spur of the flower, which projects from the hood203 like a long tapering204 chin,—some masker's device. Then the cape179 behind,—what a smart upward curve it has, as if spurned205 by the fairy shoulders it was meant to cover! But perhaps the most notable thing about the flower was its fragrance206,—the richest and strongest perfume I have ever found in a wild flower. This our botanist207, Gray, does not mention; as if one should describe the lark208 and forget its song. The fragrance suggested that of white clover, but was more rank and spicy209.
The woods about Moxie Lake were literally210 carpeted with Linn?a. I had never seen it in such profusion211. In early summer, the period of its bloom, what a charming spectacle the mossy floors of these remote woods must present! The flowers are purple rose-color, nodding and fragrant212. Another very abundant plant in these woods was the Clintonia borealis. Uncle Nathan said it was called "bear's corn," though he did not know why. The only noticeable flower by the Maine roadsides at this season that is not common in other parts of the country is the harebell. Its bright blue, bell-shaped corolla shone out from amid the dry grass and weeds all along the route. It was one of the most delicate roadside flowers I had ever seen.
The only new bird I saw in Maine was the pileated woodpecker, or black "log cock," called by Uncle Nathan "wood cock." I had never before seen or heard this bird, and its loud cackle in the woods about Moxie was a new sound to me. It is the wildest and largest of our northern woodpeckers, and the rarest. Its voice and the sound of its hammer are heard only in the depths of the northern woods. It is about as large as a crow, and nearly as black.
We stayed a week at Moxie, or until we became surfeited213 with its trout, and had killed the last Merganser duck that lingered about our end of the lake. The trout that had accumulated on our hands we had kept alive in a large champagne214 basket submerged in the lake, and the morning we broke camp the basket was towed to the shore and opened; and after we had feasted our eyes upon the superb spectacle, every trout, twelve or fifteen in number, some of them two-pounders, was allowed to swim back into the lake. They went leisurely215, in couples and in trios, and were soon kicking up their heels in their old haunts. I expect that the divinity who presides over Moxie will see to it that every one of those trout, doubled in weight, comes to our basket in the future.
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1
penetrates
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| v.穿过( penetrate的第三人称单数 )；刺入；了解；渗透 | |
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inaccessible
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| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
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cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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deciduous
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| adj.非永久的；短暂的；脱落的；落叶的 | |
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abounds
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| v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的第三人称单数 ) | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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aspiring
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| adj.有志气的；有抱负的；高耸的v.渴望；追求 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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waterproof
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| n.防水材料；adj.防水的；v.使...能防水 | |
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utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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shingled
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| adj.盖木瓦的；贴有墙面板的v.用木瓦盖(shingle的过去式和过去分词形式) | |
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maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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syrup
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| n.糖浆，糖水 | |
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stewed
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| adj.焦虑不安的，烂醉的v.炖( stew的过去式和过去分词 )；煨；思考；担忧 | |
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cranberries
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| n.越橘( cranberry的名词复数 ) | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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sylvan
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| adj.森林的 | |
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aboriginal
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| adj.（指动植物）土生的，原产地的，土著的 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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31
swells
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| 增强( swell的第三人称单数 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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sinewy
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| adj.多腱的，强壮有力的 | |
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thwarts
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| 阻挠( thwart的第三人称单数 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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39
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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41
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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42
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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43
thorny
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| adj.多刺的，棘手的 | |
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44
metaphorical
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| a.隐喻的，比喻的 | |
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45
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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46
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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47
ripened
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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49
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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50
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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51
lichens
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| n.地衣( lichen的名词复数 ) | |
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52
solitudes
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| n.独居( solitude的名词复数 )；孤独；荒僻的地方；人迹罕至的地方 | |
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53
softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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54
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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55
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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56
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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57
grit
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| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
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58
repelling
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| v.击退( repel的现在分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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59
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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60
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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61
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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62
motes
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| n.尘埃( mote的名词复数 )；斑点 | |
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63
trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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64
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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lateral
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| adj.侧面的，旁边的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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67
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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69
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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maneuvered
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| v.移动，用策略( maneuver的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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72
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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73
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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sterile
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| adj.不毛的，不孕的，无菌的，枯燥的，贫瘠的 | |
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margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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77
boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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boulder
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| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
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79
strewing
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| v.撒在…上( strew的现在分词 )；散落于；点缀；撒满 | |
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80
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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81
sediment
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| n.沉淀，沉渣，沉积(物) | |
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82
glaciers
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| 冰河，冰川( glacier的名词复数 ) | |
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83
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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84
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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85
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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87
loon
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| n.狂人 | |
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88
malevolent
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| adj.有恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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90
circumventing
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| v.设法克服或避免（某事物），回避( circumvent的现在分词 )；绕过，绕行，绕道旅行 | |
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91
tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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92
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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93
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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95
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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96
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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97
appreciable
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| adj.明显的，可见的，可估量的，可觉察的 | |
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ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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101
checkered
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| adj.有方格图案的 | |
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102
beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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103
thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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apex
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| n.顶点，最高点 | |
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perpendicular
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| adj.垂直的，直立的；n.垂直线，垂直的位置 | |
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106
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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107
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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108
swoops
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| 猛扑，突然下降( swoop的名词复数 ) | |
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109
wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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110
elude
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| v.躲避，困惑 | |
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111
piecemeal
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| adj.零碎的；n.片，块；adv.逐渐地；v.弄成碎块 | |
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112
otter
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| n.水獭 | |
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113
steers
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| n.阉公牛，肉用公牛( steer的名词复数 )v.驾驶( steer的第三人称单数 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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114
tempestuous
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| adj.狂暴的 | |
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115
chasms
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| 裂缝( chasm的名词复数 )； 裂口； 分歧； 差别 | |
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116
creeks
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| n.小湾( creek的名词复数 )；小港；小河；小溪 | |
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117
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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118
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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119
spanking
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| adj.强烈的，疾行的；n.打屁股 | |
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120
bovine
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| adj.牛的；n.牛 | |
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121
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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122
tenacity
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| n.坚韧 | |
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123
mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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124
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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125
lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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126
yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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127
jocosely
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| adv.说玩笑地，诙谐地 | |
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128
caribou
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| n.北美驯鹿 | |
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129
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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130
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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131
polemic
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| n.争论，论战 | |
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132
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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133
recluse
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| n.隐居者 | |
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134
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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135
eking
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| v.（靠节省用量）使…的供应持久( eke的现在分词 )；节约使用；竭力维持生计；勉强度日 | |
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136
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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137
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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138
mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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139
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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140
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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141
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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142
sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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143
cedars
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| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
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144
bumpy
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| adj.颠簸不平的，崎岖的 | |
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145
restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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146
ticklish
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| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
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147
circumspection
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| n.细心，慎重 | |
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148
solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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149
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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150
slander
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| n./v.诽谤，污蔑 | |
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151
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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152
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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153
notably
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| adv.值得注意地，显著地，尤其地，特别地 | |
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154
entice
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| v.诱骗，引诱，怂恿 | |
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155
languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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156
drowsiness
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| n.睡意；嗜睡 | |
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157
prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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158
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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159
belittle
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| v.轻视，小看，贬低 | |
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160
bragged
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| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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161
contestants
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| n.竞争者，参赛者( contestant的名词复数 ) | |
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162
hemp
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| n.大麻；纤维 | |
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163
ignominious
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| adj.可鄙的，不光彩的，耻辱的 | |
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164
humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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165
bead
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| n.念珠；(pl.)珠子项链；水珠 | |
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166
reposing
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的现在分词 ) | |
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167
scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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168
trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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169
browse
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| vi.随意翻阅，浏览；(牛、羊等)吃草 | |
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170
morsels
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| n.一口( morsel的名词复数 )；（尤指食物）小块，碎屑 | |
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171
hemlock
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| n.毒胡萝卜，铁杉 | |
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172
twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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173
thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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174
cubs
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| n.幼小的兽，不懂规矩的年轻人( cub的名词复数 ) | |
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175
tacked
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| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
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176
detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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177
scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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178
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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179
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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180
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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181
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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182
frigid
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| adj.寒冷的，凛冽的；冷淡的；拘禁的 | |
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183
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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184
abysmal
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| adj.无底的，深不可测的，极深的；糟透的，极坏的；完全的 | |
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185
geologic
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| adj.地质的 | |
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186
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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187
fissures
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| n.狭长裂缝或裂隙( fissure的名词复数 )；裂伤；分歧；分裂v.裂开( fissure的第三人称单数 ) | |
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188
smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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189
grooves
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| n.沟( groove的名词复数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏v.沟( groove的第三人称单数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏 | |
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190
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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191
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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192
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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193
lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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194
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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195
notching
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| adj.多级的（指继电器）n.做凹口，开槽v.在（某物）上刻V形痕( notch的现在分词 )；赢得；赢取；获得高分 | |
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196
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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197
vertically
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| adv.垂直地 | |
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198
prop
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| vt.支撑；n.支柱，支撑物；支持者，靠山 | |
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199
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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200
marshy
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| adj.沼泽的 | |
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201
bonnets
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| n.童帽( bonnet的名词复数 )；（烟囱等的）覆盖物；（苏格兰男子的）无边呢帽；（女子戴的）任何一种帽子 | |
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202
hoods
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| n.兜帽( hood的名词复数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩v.兜帽( hood的第三人称单数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩 | |
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203
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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204
tapering
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| adj.尖端细的 | |
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205
spurned
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| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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206
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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207
botanist
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| n.植物学家 | |
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208
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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209
spicy
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| adj.加香料的；辛辣的，有风味的 | |
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210
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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211
profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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212
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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213
surfeited
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| v.吃得过多( surfeit的过去式和过去分词 )；由于过量而厌腻 | |
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214
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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215
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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