Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1904-09-09
A FOREST RAMBLE
A Wilderness of Green Light
ed by Many Blossoms.
MEETING A CHIPMUNK
A WHITE-TAILED DEER ON A BED
OF PINE NEEDLES.
Looking Forward to What the Animals
Life or Speedy End
May Be.

Written for The Evening Star
Yesterday l walked through a forest. 1t
was one of those hot August days when
there Is no breeze stirring and when all
the birds, save the red-eyed vireo and the
indigo bunting, are sitting silent in the
depths of the woods. The most noticea bic
sounds were those of the crickets in the
grass. the drowsy thrilling of cicadas and
the occasional peep" Of a hyla from the
foliage of the trees. The coloring of the
wild flowers had a strong suggestion or
autumn for the goldenrod was at its best.
and mingling with 1t were trumpet weed
boneset and great masses of pearly ever
lasting. All the shrubs along the roadside
were hung with garlands of wild clematls,
and along the borders of the forest itself
even the darkest spots were lighted by
great clumps OF the white wood asters.
As I entered the woods the first living
creature to catch my eye was a chipmunk,
looking bright and cheerful in spite Of the
heat. He did not seem in the least afraid,
and he was munching briskly at some blue
berries which he had brought from dis
lance in his cheek pouches. What impress
ed me most at the moment, perhaps, was the
spotless condition of his fur. Here was a
little animal which lived in a hole in the
ground, grubbed in the soil every day, and
ries whose juice dyes the hands Of every
man who picks them. Yet on that shining
coat before me, there was neither mud. nor
dust, nor stain of any kind. No race horse,
fresh from the hands of a careful groom,
has a sleeker coat than this. And SO 1t is
with most wild things; 1t seems that they
might touch even pitch without being de-
filed.
bank of a stream, and then note the bright
ness of his glistening brown coat as he
sits on a stone by the water to wash his
face mo man can work, In mud and dirt,
and keep his clothes so clean" the CHIP,
approached to within about five yards. and
then he stopped munching his berries and
sat I'D a little straighter. l took another
step, and he said Chip" stood quite stu
but he was not at his ease. He moved a
trifle and said "Chfp!" again, and there
was more than a trace of suspicion In the
tone Then came series of cries at rcgu-
lar intervals: hip-chip-chip-chip, un-
extra loud "Chip!" he darted down the far
side of the stone into his burrow, and, as
Il walked away, l looked back to see his
as though he were only waiting for the
coast to be clear before resuming his seal
upon the rock above.
Over the Old Trail.
Soon I struck an old forest trail, family
marked by trees blazed years ago. The
marks of the hatchet. once white and prom
inent. were now almost grown over with
bark. or so weather-stained as to be al
most invisible except when close at hand
The narrow path was overgrown with ferns
but here and there a bruised or broken
frond showed that the wild things used II
still All around, the trees grew close to-
gether, and the light was dim. but now
and then there was an open space, where
the sunshine filtered through. and giorifed