52 WINTER SUNSHINE 



cunning rogue trying to hide by embracing a small 

 tree. Most animals, when taken in a trap, show 

 fight; but Reynard has more faith in the nimble- 

 ness of his feet than in the terror of his teeth. 



Entering the woods, the number and variety of 

 the tracks contrast strongly with the rigid, frozen 

 aspect of things. Warm jets of life still shoot and 

 play amid this snowy desolation. Fox-tracks are 

 far less numerous than in the fields; but those of 

 hares, skunks, partridges, squirrels, and mice abound. 

 The mice tracks are very pretty, and look like a 

 sort of fantastic stitching on the coverlid of the 

 snow. One is curious to know what brings these 

 tiny creatures from their retreats ; they do not seem 

 to be in quest of food, but rather to be traveling 

 about for pleasure or sociability, though always going 

 post-haste, and linking stump with stump and tree 

 with tree by fine, hurried strides. That is when 

 they travel openly; but they have hidden passages 

 and winding galleries under the snow, which un- 

 doubtedly are their main avenues of communication. 

 Here and there these passages rise so near the sur- 

 face as to be covered by only a frail arch of snow, 

 and a slight ridge betrays their course to the eye. 

 I know him well. He is known to the farmer as 

 the "deer mouse," to the naturalist as the white- 

 footed mouse, — a very beautiful creature, nocturnal 

 in his habits, with large ears, and large, fine eyes, 

 full of a wild, harmless look. He is daintily 

 marked, with white feet and a white belly. When 

 disturbed by day he is very easily captured, having 



