AUTUMN TIDES. 127 



ternut or hickory-nut gr'ove on a frosty October 

 morning, and hear the red squirrel beat the "juba" 

 on a horizontal branch. It is a most lively jig, what 

 the boys call a "regular break-down," interspersed 

 with squeals and snickers and derisive laughter. The 

 most noticeable peculiarity about the vocal part of it 

 is the fact that it is a kind of duet. In other words, 

 by some ventriloqual tricks he appears to accompany 

 himself, as if his voice split up, a part forming a low 

 guttural sound, and a part a shrill nasal sound. 



The distant bark of the more wary gray squirrel 

 may be heard about the same time. There is a teas- 

 ing and ironical tone in it also, but the gray squirrel 

 is not the Puck the red is. 



Insects also go into winter-quarters by or before 

 this time ; the bumble-bee, hornet, and wasp. But 

 here only royalty escapes ; the queen-mother alone 

 foresees the night of winter coming and the morning 

 of spring beyond. The rest of the tribe try gypsying 

 for a while, but perish in the first frosts. The present 

 October I surprised the queen of the yellow-jackets 

 in the woods looking out a suitable retreat. The 

 royal dame was house-hunting, and on being dis- 

 turbed by my inquisitive poking among the leaves, 

 she got up and flew away with a slow, deep hum. 

 Her body was unusually distended, whether with fat 

 or eggs I am unable to say. In September I took 

 down the nest of the black hornet and found several 

 large queens in it, but the workers had all gone. 

 The queens were evidently weathering the first frostl 

 und storms here, and waiting for the Indian summer 



