n 



berries, and the inner bark of pine twigs, but 

 they depend almost entirely upon conifer nuts 

 or seeds, the greater part of these coming from 

 the cones of pines and spruces. They start 

 harvesting the cones in early autumn, so as to 

 harvest all needed food for winter before the dry, 

 ripened cones open and empty their tiny seeds. 

 Deftly they dart through the tree-tops almost as 

 swiftly as a hummingbird and as utterly indif- 

 ferent to the dangers of falling. With polished 

 blades of ivory they clip off the clinging, fruited 

 cones. Happy, hopeful, harvest-home sounds 

 the cones make as they drop and bounce on the 

 dry floor of the autumn woods. Often a pair 

 work together, one reaping the cones with his 

 ivory cutters and the other carrying them home, 

 each being a sheaf of grain of Nature's bundling. 

 When harvesting alone, Mr. Fremont is often 

 annoyed by the chipmunks. These little rascals 

 will persist in stealing the fallen cones, despite 

 glaring eyes, irate looks, and deadly threats from 

 the angry harvester above. When finally he 

 comes tearing down to carry his terrible ultima- 

 tums into effect, the frightened chipmunks make 



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