THE PLEASURES OF A NATURALIST 



ing to the full light of day, not because their deeds 

 are evil, but because the instinct of self-preservation 

 prompts this course. As I write these sentences, a 

 chipmunk, who ha;s his den in the bank by the road- 

 side near by, is very busy storing up some half-ripe 

 currants which grew on a bush a few yards away. 

 Of course the currants will ferment and rot, but 

 that consideration does not disturb him; the 

 seeds will keep, and they are what he is after. In 

 the early summer, before any of the nuts and 

 grains are ripened, the high cost of living among 

 the lesser rodents is very great, and they resort to 

 all sorts of makeshifts. 



In regard to this fullness of life in the hidden 

 places of nature, Darwin says as much of the world 

 as a whole; 



Well may we affirm that every part of the world is 

 inhabitable. Whether lakes of brine or those subter- 

 ranean ones hidden beneath volcanic mountains — warm 

 mineral springs — the wide expanse and depth of the 

 ocean, the upper regions of the atmosphere, and even 

 the surface of perpetual snow — all support organic 

 beings. 



Never before was there such a lover of natural 

 history as Darwin. In the earth, in the air, in the 

 water, in the rocks, in the sand, in the mud— he 

 scanned the great biological record of the globe as 

 it was never scanned before. During the voyage of 



17 



