SECOND WEEK] March 71 



doubtless, in a great measure, account for the extreme 

 abundance of the little creatures. When a deer mouse 

 or a chipmunk emerges from its hollow log or underground 

 tunnel, it must take its chances in open air. It may dart 

 along close to the ground or amid an impenetrable tangle 

 of briers, but still it is always visible from above. On 

 the other hand, a mole, pushing blindly along beneath the 

 sod, fears no danger from the hawk soaring high overhead. 



The method of the meadow mice is between these two: 

 its stratum of active life is above the mole and beneath 

 the chipmunk. Scores of sharp little incisor teeth are 

 forever busy gnawing and cutting away the tender grass 

 and sprouting weeds in long meandering paths or trails 

 through the meadows. As these paths are only a mouse- 

 breadth in width, the grasses at each side lean inward, 

 forming a perfect shelter of interlocking stems overhead. 

 Two purposes are thus fulfilled: a delicious succulent food 

 is obtained and a way of escape is kept ever open. These 

 lines intersect and cross at every conceivable angle, and 

 as the meadow mice clan are ever friendly toward one 

 another, any particular mouse seems at liberty to traverse 

 these miles of mouse alleys. 



In winter, when the snow lies deep upon the ground, 

 these same mice drive tunnels beneath it, leading to all 

 their favourite feeding grounds, to all the heavy-seeded 

 weed heads, with which the bounty of Nature supplies 

 them. But at night these tunnels are deserted and boldly 

 out upon the snow come the meadow mice, chasing each 

 other over its gleaming surface, nibbling the toothsome 

 seeds, dodging, or trying to dodge, the owl-shadows; living 



