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him run in such a helter skelter manner, 

 but presently I noticed a small creature 

 of about his own size, following him 

 closely. The second comer was brown, 

 and from his swift gliding motion I 

 knew he was a weasel, even before I saw 

 his snakelike head. Although it was a 

 life and death game for the Chatterbox, 

 there was something in the gliding mo- 

 tion of the weasel that fascinated the red 

 squirrel, for occasionally he would partly 

 turn his head and watch his pursuer, and 

 the weasel always gained upon him at 

 these times. 



Over logs and through bits of under- 

 brush, into deep bunches of ferns and 

 tangles of scrub hemlock they raced, the 

 squirrel fleeing wildly, and the weasel fol- 

 lowing relentlessly. 



At last they came to within three or 

 four rods of where I sat, and the squirrel 



