560 DAN BEARD'S ANIMAL BOOK 



from the pier I had built in front of my camp, captured 

 a woodchuck in the act of swimming across Big Tink 

 Pond. They killed, cooked, and ate the little animal. 



Audubon describes swamp rabbits which are expert 

 swimmers, but the ordinary hare and rabbit, when in 

 deep water, are like the high-pooped vessels of the 

 seventeenth century. They are so far down at the bow 

 that rough water would probably be very inconvenient 

 to them. 



During the migration of the gray squirrels they do 

 not stop at a stream, but frequently cross the largest of 

 rivers, although many are said to be drowned on such 

 occasions. 



ALMOST ANY BIRD CAN SWIM 



in the water until it becomes frightened and we.ts its 

 plumage. I once put a pet bantam hen in a bathtub 

 filled with water and placed all her little fluffy chickens 

 carefully in the water beside her, where they floated 

 as lightly as so many ducks. But after a few moments 

 the hen realized her novel position, lost confidence and 

 began to flap her wings, which splashed the water over 

 her body and also over her chicks, and had I not hastily 

 removed them they would have drowned in the tub. 



A PET CROW 



I once owned, was accustomed to bathe in a shallow fish 

 pond that I had built in the back yard. In fact, this 

 little shallow body of water was the only one with which 

 the bird was familiar. Consequently, when one day it 



