FROM THE ELM-CLUMP 117 



from the main woods spent much time and 

 energy in trying to determine the cause of 

 our long, silent vigil. Another little neighbor 

 we never could have known about him if we 

 had not been very quiet was observed several 

 times to scurry across a bit of bare ground and 

 instantly disappear. He was a little black 

 shrew, very round, very sleek, and very much 

 in a hurry. He always came out of one hole, 

 dashed five or six feet, and popped into another. 

 Somewhere down among the elm-roots he had a 

 little world all his own, but it was sealed and 

 locked from our prying eyes. 



Just about the time we were thinking of steal- 

 ing away, we had another caller. There was 

 glimpse of yellow-brown out in the grass to- 

 ward the slough, and a big weasel was coming. 

 With that indescribable, sneaking, darting gait, 

 now up picket-like to reconnoiter, now down 

 shadow-like to glide through impossible places, 

 he slipped among the grass and weeds and 

 headed for our clump. His coat was rich 

 brown, his underparts yellow, his long, thin tail, 

 black-tipped; and when he reared himself, lank 

 and sinewy, straight up, and peered ahead with 

 his fierce little eyes, he was a sight to freeze the 



