Adèle Dubois - A Story of the Lovely Miramichi Valley in New Brunswick by Mrs. William T. Savage
page 50 of 229 (21%)
page 50 of 229 (21%)
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the breeze; crowds of fir, spruce, hemlock, and cedar trees stood
waving aloft their rich, dark banners; clusters of tall, white birches, scattered here and there, relieved and brightened the sombre evergreen depths, and the maple with its affluent foliage crowned each swell of the densely covered land. Here and there, a scarlet tree or bush shot out its sanguine hue, betokening the maturity of the season and the near approach of autumn's latest splendor. Big boulders of granite, overlaid with lichens, were profusely ornamented with crimson creepers. Everything appeared in splendid and wasteful confusion. There were huge trees with branches partially torn away; others, with split trunks leaning in slow death against their fellows; others, prostrate on the ground; and around and among all, grew brakes and ferns and parasitic vines; and nodded purple, red, and golden berries. The brown squirrels ran up and down the trees and over the tangled rubbish, chirping merrily; a few late lingering birds sang little jerky notes of music, and the woodpecker made loud tapping sounds which echoed like the strokes of the woodman's axe. The air was rich and balmy,--spiced with cedar, pine, and hemlock, and a thousand unknown odors. The path through this wild of forest was rude and difficult, but the travellers held on their way unflinchingly,--the horse with unfaltering courage and patience, and his rider with unceasing wonder and delight. At noon they came to a halt, just where the sun looked down golden and cheery on a little dancing rivulet that babbled by the wayside. Here Cæsar received his oats, for which his master had made room in his portmanteau, at the expense, somewhat, of his own convenience. The |
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