66 THE BOOK OF A NATURALIST 



present moment. The swift had long been gone; 

 so had the night- jar; the cuckoo too; and others 

 were beginning to follow. 



The cuckoo his own neighbour and familiar 

 friend! Ah, that was why he hadn't seen him for 

 some days past! And then began an unhappy 

 time for the squirrel, and every day and every 

 hour increased his discontent. The yellowing leaves, 

 the chillier evenings, and long nights filled him with 

 apprehension of the coming change, and at last he 

 resolved that he would not endure it. For why 

 should he stay in such a land when all his feathered 

 neighbours and friends were now hurrying away to 

 a better one. 



Having made up his mind to migrate, he set out 

 at dawn of day, and travelled many miles toward 

 those blue 'hills in the south, which turned out to 

 be much farther than he had thought. It was not 

 until the late afternoon that he arrived at the foot 

 of the ridge, feeling more tired and sore-footed 

 than he had ever been in his life. Nevertheless he 

 was determined not to give in, but to cross the 

 hills before dark, and in crossing them perhaps 

 view from the summit that beautiful land to which 

 he was travelling. And so up and ever up he 

 went, finding it more fatiguing every minute, until 

 he began to despair of ever reaching the summit. 

 And he never did; it was too high, and he was 

 now spent with hunger and weakness after his 

 long fatiguing day. Furthermore, the hillside grew 

 more and more barren and desolate as he got higher, 



