OUR COUNTRY HOME 



upper porch. We read everything we could find about turtles, 

 for our ignorance was dense. It would be three months, our au- 

 thority said, before the eggs hatched. We planned to mark the 

 young turtles in some way in order to follow their career. The 

 rain fell on them and the sun beat down upon them just as if they 

 had not been disturbed in the gravel by the shore, but it all resulted 

 in less than naught, we had forgotten the one essential thing, 

 drainage, and the eggs spoiled. 



Sitting by the pier one afternoon, in October, looking idly but 

 with a certain discrimination at the overhanging trees and the low 

 underbrush, I was attracted by a quickly moving object, darting 

 from shelter to shelter along the pebbly shore. A low, flat head, a 

 long, crouched-down brown body, and a round bushy tail fled 

 under the pier. I waited, my eyes fixed on the other side. In a 

 moment he thrust his head out from under the timbers and looked 

 cautiously about, his keen eye watching my very breath. Every- 

 thing seemed safe, I was motionless, he ran rapidly along the 

 shore and disappeared around the bay affording me a good 

 look at him. Yes, without a doubt it was a mink. Here was a sign 

 of the wilderness indeed. I rejoiced. Did he occasionally regale 

 himself with freshly laid eggs ? We must forgive him, for his usual 

 diet is fish, although he also catches rats and mice. When we took 

 up the pier for the winter we found a great heap of empty clam 

 shells. Evidently we had uncovered his favorite picnic ground. 



Three years later we discovered more about the habits of the 



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