In the Sierra 



this comic redlegs, the mountain's merriest 

 child, seems to be made up of pure, con- 

 densed gayety. The Douglas squirrel is the 

 only living creature that I can compare 

 him with in exuberant, rollicking, irrepress- 

 ible jollity. Wonderful that these sublime 

 mountains are so loudly cheered and bright- 

 ened by a creature so queer. Nature in him 

 seems to be snapping her fingers in the face 

 of all earthy dejection and melancholy with 

 a boyish hip-hip-hurrah. How the sound is 

 made I do not understand. When he was on 

 the ground he made not the slightest noise, 

 nor when he was simply flying from place to 

 place, but only when diving in curves, the 

 motion seeming to be required for the sound ; 

 for the more vigorous the diving the more 

 energetic the corresponding outbursts of jolly 

 rattling. I tried to observe him closely while 

 he was resting in the intervals of his per- 

 formances; but he would not allow a near 

 approach, always getting his jumping legs 

 ready to spring for immediate flight, and 



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