ALONE IN A ROOM FULL OF RATS 



27 



WILD LANDS THE HOME OF FANNY FLYING SQUIRREL 



in desperation I climbed to the roof and, with a 

 long pole, felt for the obstruction in the chimney 

 there was none there. 



After building a dozen fires and extinguishing 

 them again, I called my friend, and together we 

 took down the stovepipe and found that the space 

 from the elbow of the pipe for three feet was 



PACKED WITH FINE CARDED WOOL 



made from raveling gnawed from the dining room 

 rug. In this warm, smoke-proof nest we found 

 Fanny Flying Squirrel, and as usual there was a 

 family of little ones with her. We spared the old 

 mother and nursing babies, dumping them care- 

 fully into a cracker box. It was nine o'clock that 



