THE WAY OF A WOODCHUCK 145 



The full-grown woodchuck rarely leaves the 

 burrow except to forage. That done he spends 

 some time usually just at the entrance sunning 

 himself. But most of the time, day and night, 

 he is within, presumably asleep half the summer 

 long. The young woodchucks at this time of 

 year are more often seen abroad, for the parents 

 send them forth upon the world to earn their 

 own living at a rather tender age. They roam 

 the fields and thickets and do not seem especially 

 afraid of man, scuttling into the underbrush per- 

 haps with their whistling squeal, but just as likely 

 to sit back on their haunches and offer to fight. 

 The mortality among them at this time must be 

 great. Foxes pick them up and feed them to 

 their own young. Hawks and owls do the same 

 and dogs find them an easy prey. But enough 

 get by such dangers to dig burrows in the fall 

 and next spring move up to somebody's garden 

 patch, there to absorb feasts and defy fates until 

 the outraged householder stalks forth and deals 

 death amid the ruins of his hopes. The wood- 

 chuck sitting by his burrow in the far pasture is a 

 friendly little chap, whom I wish well. I would 

 not harm a hair of him. But the woodchuck that 



