THE SQUIRREL 225 



good fortune to see an old squirrel moving her 

 young ones. It was a fine morning in May, and 

 I was watching, from a window, a hen black- 

 bird collecting worms for her nestlings, which 

 I knew were in the shrubbery, when, as she flew 

 off with her load, my eye was caught by move- 

 ment in a tall spruce that grew close to the house. 

 Something had moved among the dark boughs, 

 but whatever it was ceased as I looked. All 

 that was to be seen was the tall, dark tree, 

 dotted with tender young green shoots, and the 

 topmost boughs with brown cones. The morning 

 light caught the delicate green of the young shoots, 

 and made them stand out clearly from the 

 heavy green of the old foliage, but, as far as any 

 living object was concerned, the tree seemed 

 quite deserted. Not even a sparrow moved 

 among the branches, though it was the home 

 of a goodly number, and several pairs had shortly 

 before been carrying up building material into 

 the thick boughs at the top. Certainly I had 

 not seen them at work for the past week, but 

 from the ground it looked as if the nests were 

 finished, as several dark masses could be dimly 

 made out. So I watched to see if they were 

 again at work, and, if not, what it was that had 

 moved. 



Suddenly one of the red-brown cones at the 

 very top of the tree moved slightly ; looking at 

 it, with eyes focused upon it, it took shape and 

 form, and became a squirrel ! 



The drifting grey clouds parted, revealing blue 



15 



