72 



THE FALL OF THE YEAR 



perhaps, escape underland. So down he goes through 

 the winter, down into a mild and even temperature, 

 Jive feet away only five feet, but as far away from 

 the snow and the cold as Bobolink among the reeds 

 of the distant Orinoco. 



Indeed, Woodchuck's is a farther journey and 

 even more wonderful than Bobolink's ; for these five 

 feet carry him to the very gates of death. That he 

 will return with Bobolink, that he will come up alive 

 with the spring out of this dark way, is passing 

 strange. 



Muskrat built him a house, and under the spread- 

 ing ice turned all the meadow into a well-stocked 

 cellar. Beaver built him a 

 dam, cut and an- 

 chored under water 

 a plenty of green 

 sticks near his lodge, so that 

 he too would be under cover 

 when the ice formed, with an 

 abundance of tender bark at 

 hand. Chipmunk spent half of 

 his summer laying up food near his underground 

 nest. But Woodchuck simply digged him a hole, 

 a grave, then ate until no particle more of fat 

 could be got within his baggy hide, then crawled 

 into his bed to sleep until the dawn of spring ! 



This is his shift ! This is the length to which he 

 goes, because he has no wings, and because he can- 



