This swamp then, was in the midst of a pine wood, and was surrounded on two sides by little hills, some of which were covered with cedar, and others with the silver fir, very picturesque, and finely varied with shrubs, and every gradation of green. The swamp sunk into a hollow, like a large basin, exactly circular; round half of it, was a border of maple, the other half was edged with poplar. No creature ever entered this place in summer; its extreme softness kept it sacred from every human foot, for no one could go without the risk of being swallowed up. Different aquatic plants grew with great luxuriance in this quagmire, particularly bullrushes, and several beautiful species of the Iris, and the alder and willow; much of it, however, was open, and in different places the water seemed to form stagnant pools; in many places large trees had fallen of old, which were now covered with moss, and afforded a home to numberless wild animals. In the midst of this aquatic retreat, were two small islands of inconceivable beauty, that rose high above the rest, like the oasis of the deserts, and were dry and safe, though unapproachable. On one of these, I remember, grew three apple trees, an occurrence not rare here; for if a squirrel, for instance, happens to drop the seeds of an apple in a spot at once sheltered and fertile, at a lucky season they grow and bear, though with less vigour and beauty than those which are cultivated. That beautiful fruit, the wild plum, was also abundant on these little sanctuaries, as they might be called, for, conscious of impunity, every creature that flies the pursuit of man, gamboled in safety here, and would allow one to gaze at them from the brink of this natural fortress. One would think a congress of birds and animals had assembled here; never was a spot more animated and cheerful. There was nothing like it in the great forests; creatures here, aware of their general enemy, man, had chosen it as their last retreat. The black, the large silver grey, the little striped, and nimble flying squirrel, were all at home here, and all visible in a thousand fantastic attitudes. Pheasants and woodpeckers in countless numbers, displayed their glowing plumage, and the songsters of the forest, equally conscious of their immunity, made the marsh resound with their blended music, while the fox, here a small auburn coloured creature, the martin, and racoons occasionally appeared and vanished through the foliage. Often, on pretence of bringing home the cows in the morning, (when in their own leisurely way they were coming themselves,) I used to go, accompanied by my faithful Marian, to admire this swamp, at once a menagerie and aviary, and might truly say with Burns, “My heart rejoic’d in nature’s joy.” Not content, however, with the contemplation of animated nature, I began to entertain a fancy, which almost grew into a passion, for explaining “Every herb that sips the dew.”