A BUNDLE OF INIQUITY 63 



extremes of temperature are unknown. Nor are you 

 obliged to protect every aperture by means of a chik. 

 There is thus no barrier between the squirrel and 

 yourself. The result is that the impudent little rodent 

 behaves as though he believed that men build their 

 bungalows chiefly for his benefit. Not content with 

 living rent-free in your house during the nesting season, 

 he expects you to furnish his quarters for him, and to 

 provide him with food. As I have hinted elsewhere, 

 Indian bungalows are constructed in such a manner 

 as to lead one to infer that there is a secret compact 

 between the builders and the fowls of the air. The 

 rafters rarely fit properly into the walls, and the 

 spaces left make ideal nesting sites for sparrows and 

 squirrels. These last, although devoid of wings, are 

 such adepts at climbing that there are few spots in any 

 building to which they are unable to gain access. 



In Madras punkahs are up all the year round, and, 

 as usually they are pulled only at meal times, squirrels 

 regard them as paths leading to their nests. Running 

 up the hanging rope, walking, Blondin-like, along the 

 leathern thongs that lead to the punkah, jumping from 

 these on to the top of the punkah frame, climbing up 

 the rope to a rafter, and marching along this to the nest, 

 are feats which the little striped rodent performs 

 without effort. 



In default of a suitable cavity, the squirrel constructs, 

 among the branches of a tree, a large globular nest, 

 which has the appearance of a conglomeration of grass, 

 straw, and rubbish, but it contains a cosily lined 

 central cavity. Any available soft material is used 



