182 GLIMPSES OF WILD LIFE 



was only her own bacon now that she was soli- 

 citous about. The young one remained where 

 it had been dropped, keeping up a brave, reas- 

 suring whistle that was in ludicrous contrast to 

 its exposed and helpless condition. It was the 

 smallest woodchuck I had ever seen, not much 

 larger than a large rat. Its head and shoulders 

 were so large in proportion to the body as to 

 give it a comical look. It could not walk about 

 yet, and had never before been above ground. 

 Every moment or two it would whistle cheerily, 

 as the old one does when safe in its den and the 

 farm dog is fiercely baying outside. We took 

 the youngster home, and my little boy was de- 

 lighted over the prospect of a tame woodchuck. 

 Not till the next day would it eat. Then, get- 

 ting a taste of the milk, it clutched the spoon 

 that held it with great eagerness, and sucked 

 away like a little pig. We were all immensely 

 diverted by it. It ate eagerly, grew rapidly, 

 and was soon able to run about. As the old 

 one had been killed, we became curious as to 

 the fate of the rest of her family, for no doubt 

 there Avere more. Had she moved them, or 

 had we intercepted her on her first trip ? We 

 knew where the old den was, but not the new. 

 So we would keep a lookout. Near the end of 

 the week, on passing by the old den, there were 

 three young ones creeping about a few feet from 

 its mouth. They were starved out, and had 

 come forth to see what could be found. We 

 captured them all, and the young family was 

 again united. How these poor, half-famished 



