green heron fly up the creek when I reached this particular bend and
to find the kingfisher in his accustomed place on the bare branch of
this patriarchal oak. At the next bend, where the current has cut the
bank straight down I should look for the rows of holes made by the
little colony of bank swallows. I should steal around the sharp bend
by the old willow to see a little sandpiper on the boulder in
mid-stream as of old. On a certain high grassy knoll I should find the
woodchuck sunning himself and he would run towards his same old hole
beneath the basswood tree, just as he does today. On the swampy edge
of the stream I should find the perennial blossoms of this same
corymbed rattle-snake root and its interesting spear-shaped leaves
reflected in the water. From the dry bank just at the end of this
ledge of rock my nostrils would catch the resinous odor of the
creamy-flowered kuhnia and a more subtle aroma from the
pearly-blossomed everlasting. The horse in the pasture would again
come up and rub his nose in my hand and the cattle beneath the trees
would make the same picture as in the days of long ago. Civilization
can hardly spoil the creek. The spring freshets obliterate attempts at
road-making and the steep hills protect it from encroachment and
preserve its independence and wild beauty.

[Illustration: "CATTLE BENEATH THE TREES WOULD MAKE THE SAME PICTURE"
(p. 116)]

* * * * *

It is worth while to spend a little time with the friendly golden-rod
which spreads all over upland and lowland almost as generous as the
sunshine. To many of us one stalk of golden-rod looks much like
another, but a very little study will readily enable us to distinguish