A TRIBE OF GNAWERS AND THEIR FOOD 73 



There can be no mistake regarding the object 

 of the squirrel's thump on my chest. Cudjo meant 

 to awaken me and in this he never failed. If my 

 chest happened to be an inconvenient place for him 

 to land, he had no hestitancy in landing on my 

 head. After being once awakened, if I fell asleep 

 again the squirrel would climb back to the boot 

 and make another jump and he would repeat this 

 operation until he compelled me to get up. As 

 soon as I arose Cudjo would begin to romp around 

 the room, run up my leg, sit on my shoulder, and 

 in every way express his joy in a manner as un- 

 mistakable as that of a dog when wagging its tail. 



Cudjo was very considerate in some things, and 

 unlike most rodent pets, he refrained from gnaw- 

 ing the boots, furniture, or woodwork in the room. 

 But he did delight in creeping down between the 

 sheets and hiding a lot of walnuts and hickory nuts 

 there. It was my habit as a boy, when retiring for 

 the night, to undress as hastily as possible, throw 

 my clothes on a chair, put out the light, then in the 

 dark hastily pull down the bed clothes and with one 

 bound alight in the middle of the lower sheet. 



Cudjo would place the heap of nuts just where 

 I would strike them when springing into bed. 

 This, to my boyish fancy, he did purposely, though 

 of course the position of the nuts was entirely ac- 

 cidental. 



The sensation caused by sitting down very hard 

 on rough shelled walnuts and pointed nose hickory 

 nuts, when one is in one's thin night-clothes, is 



