The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1893-03-16

neither fisherman nor a hunter,
but even to these, in season, there
was fine trout fishing. while IN the
woods were an abundance of tur-
KEYS, woodcock, pheasants and rab-
bits. and still enough of deer left
to make the chase frequent, hot and
exciting, with now and then lively
old bear fight in the back ground.
The afternoon, which was calm
and bslmy, passed away like a
pleasant dream. The voluptuous
atmosphere was filled with music
of the nameless birds that build
their nests and sing among the old
woods-a JOYOUS orchestral pre-
lude to the grand carnival of color
which was fast approaching, when
autumn shall have kindled its fires
all along the sides of the noun
tains, the dark ravlnes and through
the meadows-tbat gorgeous scene
Of unparalleled beauty which pre-
cedes the cherries desolation of
winter. Now and then the sound
Of pheasant drumming in the for
eat like the muffied bea: of drum
would fall upon my ear, to be sup
plemented by the clear and shrill
call of the woodcock, while all
around, far and near, stood castel-
lated peaks in bold relief, on whose
tops the rays of fast declining sun
lie IKE mantle of silver ard gold.
To enjoy supper in the woods,
its unrestrained freedom from all
conventionality, its novelty. one
must be actually present upont he
occasion. There is nothing warm
on the table hut a pot of good cof-
fee, with every substantial necessary
in the eating line, 1t is the hour
and the surrounding scenes which
give to it an indescribable charm.
1t usually takes place when the last
murmurs of the days farewell have
nearly subsidized, and the evening
is fast sinking into the quiet and
sweet hush of twilight after the rich
glow of some beautiful dav. The
shadows of the big trees hard by,
like dark and bitter memories, grow
deeper and darker as the langud
tide comes on. The birds have
sung all the day long at though
everyone of them had separately
and individually lost their senses
through JOY, are still, and the even
ing star has seemingly hung its
lamp on the sky to light the tired
day to rest. To all of this there is
added freshness that lmparts new
zest--a bouyancy which gives new
life.
All in all. You are seated at a
table spread out in one of Gods
breathing tableaux OF life and
beauty which He alone can paint
and which he alone gives to man.
Perhaps the most striking and
impressive picture that greets you
around an encampment, such as l
have attempted to describe, is that
which is seen after the day is done
and darkness mantles the earth.
Usually, little before darkness
sets in, many fragments OF trees,
with quite a number of logs, are
piled on the remains of the fire left
from the previous night, and very
soon the light from the flames en-
velopes the ground for some dis
lance beyond the encampment.
Very often not breath of air is
stealing around, but everywhere
there broods a perfect calm. Now
and then the tall flames shoot far
up into the darkness, revealing the
long moss. which hangs in gloomy
festoons from the stirless branches
of the trees around. With the tar
off boot of the owl one also imaglnes
for the moment that he can hear
the long cry of the wolf sounding
like the requiem of the water
waith over the victim about to be
swallowed up by the rapacjous flood.
but it produces no more uneasiness
than an April shower would have
on the bosom of an ordinary tray
eler.
AS the flames subside the dark
ness steals nearer and nearer, and
rapidly as the shifting scenes of a
panorama come the grotesque fig
ures of the night. At one place
the murky vapors shape themselves
into the dim out lines of a grim
tower, with its frowning battle
ments; close by these rises a giant
figure, whose proportions are fright
full in the extreme. This in turn
disappears, and another and an
other succeeds, all sorrowful, and
filing the mind with nameless ap-
prehensions.
AS the picture further narrows.
fringed with the most intense dark
ness. the interest increases. At