ind, as they sighed through the pines, seemed like the breath of a
sleeping child, and then, as they lisped from the soft, tender leaves of
beeches and maples, like the half-articulate whisper of the mother
hushing all the intrusive sounds that might awaken it. Then came the
pulsating monotone of the frogs from a far-off pool, the harsh cry of an
owl from an old tree that overhung it, the splash of a mink or musquash,
and nearer by, the light step of a woodchuck, as he cantered off in his
quiet way to his hole in the nearest bank. The laurels were just coming
into bloom,--the yellow lilies, earlier than their fairer sisters,
pushing their golden cups through the water, not content, like those, to
float on the surface of the stream that fed them, emblems of showy
wealth, and, like that, drawing all manner of insects to feed upon them.
The miniature forests of ferns came down to the edge of the stream, their
tall, bending plumes swaying in the night breeze. Sweet odors from
oozing pines, from dewy flowers, from spicy leaves, stole out of the
tangled thickets, and made the whole scene more dream-like with their
faint, mingled suggestions.

By and by the banks of the river grew lower and marshy, and in place of
the larger forest-trees which had covered them stood slender tamaracks,
sickly, mossy, looking as if they had been moon-struck and were out of
their wits, their tufts of leaves staring off every way from their
spindling branches. The winds came cool and damp out of the
hiding-places among their dark recesses. The country people about here
called this region the "Witches' Hollow," and had many stories about the
strange things that happened there. The Indians used to hold their
"powwows," or magical incantations, upon a broad mound which rose out of
the common level, and where some old hemlocks and beeches formed a dark
grove, which served them as a temple for their demon-worship. There were
many legends of more recent date connected with this spot, some of them
hard to account for, and no superstitious or highly imaginative person
would have cared to pass through it alone in the dead of the night, as
this young girl was doing.

She knew nothing of all these fables and fancies. Her own singular
experiences in this enchanted region were certainly not suggested by
anything she had heard, and may be considered psychologically curious by
those who would not think of attributing any mystical meaning to them.
We ar