THE SNOW-WALKERS 57 



a limb and dancing to the music of his own cackle, 

 and all for your special benefit. 



There is something very human in this apparent 

 mirth and mockery of the squirrels. It seems to 

 be a sort of ironical laughter, and implies self-con- 

 scious pride and exultation in the laugher. "What 

 a ridiculous thing you are, to be sure!" he seems to 

 say; "how clumsy and awkward, and what a poor 

 show for a tail! Look at me, look at me!" and 

 he capers about in his best style. Again, he would 

 seem to tease you and provoke your attention; then 

 suddenly assumes a tone of good-natured, childlike 

 defiance and derision. That pretty little imp, the 

 chipmunk, will sit on the stone above his den and 

 defy you, as plainly as if he said so, to catch him 

 before he can get into his hole if you can. You 

 hurl a stone at him, and "No you did n't!" comes 

 up from the depth of his retreat. 



In February another track appears upon the 

 snow, slender and delicate, about a third larger than 

 that of the gray squirrel, indicating no haste or 

 speed, but, on the contrary, denoting the most im- 

 perturbable ease and leisure, the footprints so close 

 together that the trail appears like a chain of curi- 

 ously carved links. Sir Mephitis mephitica, or, 

 in plain English, the skunk, has awakened from his 

 six weeks' nap, and come out into society again. 

 He is a nocturnal traveler, very bold and impudent, 

 coming quite up to the barn and outbuildings, and 



