276 WILD LIFE AND THE CAMERA 



housed, or in the quiet of the blue-skied day when 

 the snow sparkles in the sunshine. The be auty is 

 equally wonderful, and the extraordinary contrast 

 forms perhaps its greatest fascination. To those 

 who fear not the cold and the wind there is nothing 

 more exhilarating than a walk through the woods 

 and fields when the wind howls, and the snow 

 travels with reckless speed, flying past trees and 

 fences as though impelled with a mad desire to 

 outdistance the pursuing gale. Snow imps dance 

 a wild uncanny dance, hesitating a moment in 

 some sheltered spot, then racing furiously across 

 the open fields, whirling round and round in their 

 wild endeavour to gather more snow. At each lull 

 in the wind they lie down, invisible to the eye, 

 leaving no track or trail, and we know not where 

 they are until with the fresh blast of wind they 

 rise up once more and continue their furious scamper. 

 In the woods all seems dead ; except in some 

 sheltered nook no birds are seen. The grey 

 squirrel has commenced his long winter sleep in 

 the hollow of a tree. Chipmunks, too, are dead to 

 the world in their underground homes, even the 

 busy red squirrel has taken a day off and is snoozing 

 comfortably in his nest. The wind whistles 

 uneasily through the swaying branches, and the 

 brown curled-up leaves of the oak rustle loudly. 

 Now and then one of the leaves lets go its hold, 

 and dances along on the smooth white ground with 

 no companions but the wind and the falling snow. 

 On such a day we see no tracks, for even did the 

 wood folks move about, their tracks would be 

 wiped out almost as soon as they were made. The 



