There was a melody in it, such as a woodpecker knows how to
evoke from a smooth, dry branch. It suggested something quite as
pleasing as the liveliest bird-song, and was if anything more woodsy
and wild. As the yellow-bellied woodpecker was the most abundant
species in these woods, I attributed it to him. It is the one sound
that still links itself with those scenes in my mind.
At sunset the grouse began to drum in all parts of the woods about the
lake. I could hear five at one time, thump, thump, thump, thump,
thr-r-r-r-r-r-rr. It was a homely, welcome sound. As I returned to
camp at twilight, along the shore of the lake, the frogs also were in
full chorus. The older ones ripped out their responses to each other
with terrific force and volume. I know of no other animal capable of
giving forth so much sound, in proportion to its size, as a frog. Some
of these seemed to bellow as loud as a two-year-old bull. They were of
immense size, and very abundant. No frog-eater had ever been there.
Near the shore we felled a tree which reached far out in the lake.
Upon the trunk and branches, the frogs soon collected in large
numbers, and gamboled and splashed about the half submerged top, like
a parcel of schoolboys, making nearly as much noise.
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