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She appeared to have no mate; at least 

 none was seen. No doubt the outlaw 

 gunners could have told a tale, had they 

 cared to admit that they went gunning 

 in springtime; and now the widow was 

 doing the best she could by her family in 

 the big gnarled tree. All went well for a 

 while, then one day, in haste maybe, 

 she broke an old rule in Squirreldom; 

 she climbed her nesting tree openly, in- 

 stead of going up its neighbor, and then 

 crossing to the den by way of the over- 

 head branches. The farm boy who saw 

 it, gave a little yelp of savage triumph; 

 his caveman nature broke out. Clubs 

 and stones were lying near, the whirling 

 end of a stick picked off the mother Squir- 

 rel as she tried to escape with a little one 

 in her mouth. Had he killed two dan- 

 gerous enemies the boy could not have 

 yelled louder. Then up the tree he 

 climbed and found in the nest two living 



[4] 



