370 UPLAND AND MEADOW. 



poke; this, too, is undisturbed. Ah, well! I am having 

 my walk, and really ara not disappointed. Now along 

 the worm-fence through the black oaks to the next trap 

 - — this is sprung. With what light footsteps I approach 

 the trap ! The lid is down. Down tight, and the weight 

 still rests upon it. Through some unaccountable twist 

 in the mind, the idea of seeing what is in the trap never 

 occurs to me. I stand and wonder. Of course, the 

 triggers were not jarred by a falling leaf, and so the 

 trap was empty. But is it 'coon, squirrel, rabbit, or 

 blue-jay, I lose five minutes trying to guess. At last, 

 I stoop down and peep through a crack, narrow as a 

 spider's web. There is nothing to be seen. I test the 

 trap by lifting it. Yes, it is heavy, but with what? 

 Slowly then I lift the lid and take another peep — the 

 trap is empty. It was heavy with the weight on the lid, 

 which 1 had neglected to remove. But what had sprung 

 it? There were a few hairs on the sides of the trap. 

 The bait was untouched, but one of the spice-wood 

 triggers was gnawed. The hairs are scanned more 

 closely, and prove to be those of a chipmunk, and 

 through a knothole in the bottom of the trap he had 

 passed into the ground and burrowed a semicircular 

 tunnel that opens less than a foot from where the trap 

 stood. It was all as plain as the increasing daylight, 

 and far better than the prosy capture of a rabbit. There 

 remain two traps in the gully, and I hasten to them, 

 a little disappointed, perhaps, at so poor a show for the 

 opening night of my trapping. In the gully, a narrow 

 path climbs the steep side of the ravine, and over it 

 rabbits are known to run, particularly when chased from 



