ir, while
the tall pines spreading on either hand were bending from their normal
by weight of icy trappings. So much for the general effect--of a soft
yet crystalline whiteness covering and outlining every object--but in
detail, what a marvel of delicate tracery, what a miracle of intricate
interlacing of frosted boughs! Every twig was encased in a transparent
cylinder of flashing ice, every hillock crusted over with freshly
fallen snow; the evergreens, in shape like giant algae, drooped wide
fans to the earth, painted, spangled, and embroidered with glittering
encrustations; the wires across the river from Bois Clair to Montmagny
were harps of shining silver strings, the rough fences turned to
graceful arabesques, the houses changed to domes and turrets and
battlements of marble.

The sun was veiled as yet, but occasionally from behind the
greyish-white of a cloudless spreading sky a pale yellow gleam stole
forth, creating fires of prismatic rose and violet in each glassy twig
and leaf. At these times, too, there woke and stirred a faint, faint
wind, almost a warm wind, and then, here and there, a little cushion or
mat or flag of snow would fall, or an icy stem break off. The silence
was absolute, animal life appeared suspended, the squirrels no longer
ran chattering in quest of food, as on mild days they will near
habitations, no bird was seen or heard. This state of coma or trance
held all created things, and as with most Canadian scenery, small
chance was there for sentiment; the shepherd of the Lake country or the
mountaineer of Switzerland were not represented by any picturesque
figure, although small spirals of smoke floated up from the straggling
settlements, and a habitant wife sometimes looked out from a door or a
window, her face dark and shrivelled for the most part, and with clumsy
woollen wraps thrown around head and shoulders.

The absence of human interest and the silence intensified the serene
splendours of the forest and great Fall on such a day as this, when
growth and change had reached a standstill and when the cool brooding
of the air recalled the moments before dawn or the remote and unnatural
quiescence that marks an eclipse. To walk near the forest would mean
to encounter huge mounds of snow hiding the levelled logs and boulders,
stalactites of ponderous icicles depending from the tree trunks where
the openings faced the light and the sun; farther in, and once safely
past these glacial o