Ravished and torn by the tanner
in his thirst for bark, preyed upon by the lumberman, assaulted and
beaten back by the settler, still their spirit has never been broken,
their energies never paralyzed. Not many years ago a public highway
passed through them, but it was at no time a tolerable road; trees
fell across it, mud and limbs choked it up, till finally travelers
took the hint and went around; and now, walking along its deserted
course, I see only the footprints of coons, foxes, and squirrels.
Nature loves such woods, and places her own seal upon them. Here she
show me what can be done with ferns and mosses and lichens. The soil
is marrowy and full of innumerable forests. Standing in these fragrant
aisles, I feel the strength of the vegetable kingdom, and am awed by
the deep and inscrutable processes of life going on so silently about
me.
No hostile forms with axe or spud now visit these solitudes. The cows
have half-hidden ways through them, and know where the best browsing
is to be had. In spring, the farmer repairs to their bordering of
maples to make sugar; in July and August women and boys from all the
country about penetrate the old Barkpeelings for raspberries and
blackberries; and I know a youth who wonderingly follows their languid
stream casting for trout.
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