MAMMALS OF MINNESOTA. 41 
superficial characters with no reference to tangible anatomical 
distinctions has multiplied synonyms to such an extent that no 
person can ever disentangle the synonomy. At present we can 
form only very vague ideas as to the actual number of species 
in several genera. As far as the systematic study is concerned, 
all that has thus far been written is so much profitless lumber 
and might best be ignored. Facts regarding the habits, anat- 
-my and geographical distribution, on the other hand, are of 
permanent and immediate value. 
In November, 1883, the writer lay encamped under the canopy 
of the sky in Pine Co., Minnesota, endeavoring to escape the 
chill of the frosty air by drawing the blanket close and hover- 
ing nearer the camp fire. To a person alone in the woods for 
the first time after a long interval every sound is novel and 
more or less charged with mystery. The wind stirred the tree 
tops and impinging boughs clattered and the trunks groaned 
under the tortion, each tree with its own doleful note. The 
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 
anything living, even the distant howling of wolves was 
silenced, and I began to feel that the attempt to gain personal 
knowledge of the ways of woodsy mammals by night study 
would prove futile, and composed myself to sleep. The half- 
‘ssomnolent revery 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 distinctly musical and reminded me of the con- 
tented twitter of birds finding resting places among the boughs 
at night. Without moving I turned my eyes upon the fire-lit 
circle, about which the darkness formed an apparently impen- 
trable wall. Only the most careful scrutiny enabled me to dis- 
cover the tiny musicians. Within a few feet of my head, upon 
a decayed log, raced a pair of shrews (8S. 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 lilliputians, siezing 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 eating the conversation was not interrupted. The little 
