rack swamp in late spring or
early summer, can ever imagine how beautiful it is. Nan never missed
human companionship when she was on the long walks she so often took in
the woods.

She had learned now that, despite her adventure with the lynx in the
snow-drifted hollow, there was scarcely any animal to fear about Pine
Camp. Bears had not been seen for years; bobcats were very infrequently
met with and usually ran like scared rabbits; foxes were of course
shy, and the nearest approach to a wolf in all that section was Toby
Vanderwiller's wolfhound that had once frightened Nan so greatly.

Hares, rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, and many, many birds, peopled
the forest and swamp. In sunken places where the green water stood and
steamed in the sun, turtles and frogs were plentiful; and occasionally a
snake, as harmless as it was wicked looking, slid off a water-soaked log
at Nan's approach and slipped under the oily surface of the pool.

On the day Nan walked to Toby's place the first time, she saw many
wonders of plant life along the way, exotics clinging to rotten logs
and stumps; fronds of delicate vines that she had never before heard
of; ferns of exquisite beauty. And flashing over them, and sucking honey
from every cuplike flower, were shimmering humming-birds and marvelously
marked butterflies.

The birds screamed or sang or chattered over the girl's head as she
tripped along. Squirrels peeped at her, barked, and then whisked their
tails in rapid flight. Through the cool, dark depths where the forest
monarchs had been untouched by the woodsmen, great moths winged their
lazy flight. Nan knew not half of the creatures or the wonderful plants
she saw.

There were sounds in the deeps of the swamplands that she did not
recognize, either. Some she supposed must be the voices of huge frogs;
other notes were bird-calls that she had never heard before. But
suddenly, as she approached a turn in the corduroy road, her ear was
smitten by a sound that she knew very well indeed.

It was a man's voice, and it was not a pleasant one. It caused Nan to
halt and look about for some place to hide until the owner of the voice
went by. She feared him because of his harsh tones, though she did not,
at the moment, suspect who it was.

Then suddenly she heard plainly a single phrase: "I'd give money, I tell
ye, to see Hen Sherwood git his!"

Chapter XXI. IN THE TAMARACK SWAMP

The harsh tone of the unseen man terrified Nan She