MOTHS OF THE LIMBERLOST 



answering. Scarcely realizing what I was doing, the 

 tripod was set up, the best camera taken out, and focused 

 on that thistle head. The moths paid no attention to 

 bees, butterflies, or hummingbirds visiting the thistle, 

 but this was too formidable, and by the time the choicest 

 heads were in focus, all the little red fellows had darted 

 to another plant. If the camera was moved there, they 

 would change again, so I sat in the shade of a clump of 

 papaws to wait and see if they would not grow accus- 

 tomed to it. 



They kept me longer than I had expected, and the 

 chances are I would have answered the cardinal's call, 

 and gone to the river, had it not been for the interest 

 found in watching a beautiful gray squirrel that homed 

 in an ivy-covered stump in the pasture. He seemed to 

 have much business on the fence at the hilltop, and 

 raced back and forth to it repeatedly. He carried some- 

 thing, I could not always tell what, but at times it was 

 green haws. Once he came with no food, and at such a 

 headlong run that he almost turned somersaults as he 

 scampered up the tree. 



For a long time he was quiet, then he cautiously peeped 

 out. After a while he ventured to the ground, raced to a 

 dead stump, and sitting on it, barked and scolded with 

 all his might. Then he darted home again. When he 

 had repeated this performance several times, the idea 

 became apparent. There was some danger to be defied 



292 



