like a caged bear, tried to
scare me, glaring and softly growling.

Off she flopped as I landed. The nest might be upon the ground or lodged
among the bushes; but the only ground space large enough was covered layer
over layer with pearly clam-shells, the kitchen-midden of some muskrat;
and the bushes were empty. I went to the other islets, searched bog and
tangle, and finally pulled away disappointed, giving the least bittern
credit for considerable mother-wit and woodcraft. How little wit she
really had appeared on my return down-creek that afternoon.

I had now entered the high, overhanging swamp, where the shaggy trees, the
looping vines, and the rank, pulpous undergrowth grew thick on both sides,
reaching far back, a wet, heavy wilderness without a path, except for the
silent feet of the mink and the otter, and the more silent feet of the
creek, here a narrow stream winding darkly down through the shadows.

Every little while along the rooty, hummocky banks of the creek I would
pass a muskrat's slide. Here was one at the butt of a tulip-poplar, its
platform wet and freshly trodden, its "dive" shooting sheer over a root
into the stream. Farther on stood a large tussock whose top was trampled
flat and covered with sedge-roots. I could not resist putting my nose down
for a sniff, so good is the smell of a fresh trail, so close are we to the
rest of the pack. In the thick of the swamp I stopped a moment to examine
the footprints of an otter at a shallow, shelving place along the bank,
where, opening through the skunk-cabbage and Indian turnip, and covered
almost ankle-deep with water, was the creature's runway.

I had moved leisurely along, yet not aimlessly. The whole June day was
mine to waste; but it would not be well wasted if nothing more purposeful
than wasting were in mind.

One does not often drift to a port. Going into the woods to see anything
is a very sure way of seeing little or nothing; and taking the path to
anywhere is certain to lead one nowhere in particular. Many interested,
nature-loving people fail to enjoy the out-of-doors simply because they
have no definite spot to reach, no flower, bird, or bug to find when they
enter the fields and woods. Going forth "to commune with nature" sounds
very fine, but it is much more difficult work than conversing with the
Sphinx. In order to draw near to nature I require a pole with a hook and
line on the end of it. While I watch the float and wait, if there i