ything else in nature. A
different scent rises from earth where the sun strikes it. Lichen faces
take on the brightest colours they ever wear, and rough, coarse mosses
emerge in rank growth from their cover of snow and add another perfume
to mellowing air. This combination has breathed a strange intoxication
into the breast of mankind in all ages, and bird and animal life prove
by their actions that it makes the same appeal to them.

Crows caw supremacy from tall trees; flickers, drunk on the wine of
nature, flash their yellow-lined wings and red crowns among trees in a
search for suitable building places; nut-hatches run head foremost down
rough trunks, spying out larvae and early emerging insects; titmice
chatter; the bold, clear whistle of the cardinal sounds never so gaily;
and song sparrows pipe from every wayside shrub and fence post. Coons
and opossums stir in their dens, musk-rat and ground-hog inspect the
weather, while squirrels race along branches and bound from tree to tree
like winged folk.

All of them could have outlined the holdings of the Harvester almost
as well as any surveyor. They understood where the bang of guns and the
snap of traps menaced life. Best of all, they knew where cracked nuts,
handfuls of wheat, oats, and crumbs were scattered on the ground, and
where suet bones dangled from bushes. Here, too, the last sheaf from the
small wheat field at the foot of the hill was stoutly fixed on a high
pole, so that the grain was free to all feathered visitors.

When the Harvester hitched Betsy, loaded his spiles and sap buckets
into the wagon, and started to the woods to gather the offering the wet
maples were pouring down their swelling sides, almost his entire family
came to see him. They knew who fed and passed every day among them, and
so were unafraid.

After the familiarity of a long, cold winter, when it had been easier
to pick up scattered food than to search for it, they became so friendly
with the man, the dog, and the gray horse that they hastily snatched
the food offered at the barn and then followed through the woods. The
Harvester always was particular to wear large pockets, for it was good
company to have living creatures flocking after him, trusting to his
bounty. Ajax, a shimmering wonder of gorgeous feathers, sunned on the
ridge pole of the old log stable, preened, spread his train, and uttered
the peacock cry of defiance, to exercise his voice or to express his
emotions at all