Her RICK, Instinctive Traits in Animals. 129 



few remaining pines added their sighing to the many melan- 

 choly sounds belonging to an autumn forest at night. But amid 

 all the sounds nothing could be identified as coming from any- 

 thing living, even the distant howling of wolves was silenced, 

 and I began to feel that the attempt to gam personal knowledge 

 of the ways of woodsy mammals by night study would prove 

 futile, and composed myself to sleep. The half-somnolent rev- 

 ery which forms the prelude to slumber, was broken by faint 

 melodious sounds on an excessively high key — so high that it 

 seemed that I might be simply hearing the lower notes of an 

 elfin symphony, the upper registers in which were beyond the 

 powers of human ears to distinguish. The sounds were dis- 

 tinctly musical and reminded me of the contented twitter of 

 birds finding resting places among the boughs at night. With- 

 out moving, I turned my eyes upon the fire-lit circle, about 

 which the darkness formed an apparently impenetrable wall. 

 Only the most careful scrutiny enabled me to discover the tiny 

 musicians. Within a few feet of my head, upon a decayed log, 

 raced a pair of shrews {S. cooperi), so minute as to escape my 

 observation at first. Up and down with the most sprightly 

 imaginable motions they ran, twittering incessantly. Hither 

 and thither they scampered over my clothing and almost into 

 my pockets, like veritable lilliputiaris, seizing now a crumb of 

 cheese, with which my traps were baited, and now a bit of fish 

 fallen from my improvised supper table. During the eatmg the 

 conversation was not interrupted. The little visitors were not 

 bashful about criticising the housekeeping of their host, if their 

 apparent amusement can thus be interpreted, but it was a most 

 good humored little party nevertheless which thus unceremoni- 

 ously ransacked my larder. The party increased in numbers 

 and merriment, until I was almost forced to believe myself an 

 uninvited guest within the magic circle of Queen Mab's domain. 

 I watched with interest the result of their intrusion into the 

 traps which stood about for the capture of any red-backed mouse 

 that might invade my camp, but Sorex passed entirely within, 

 and, daintily arching his back, contentedly nibbled the cheese, 

 and when the spring rose usually suffered but a short fright, and 

 returned to finish the interrupted meal. Canned fish seemed to 

 be more acceptable than any other food I had to ofter. Tiring 



