Bannertail 



into the trunk of a tall hickory where it 

 was dead. Once through the outer shell 

 the inner wood was rotten punk, too easy 

 for a Flicker to work in, but exactly right 

 and easy for a Graysquirrel. Here, then, 

 the two set to work digging out the soft 

 rotten wood till the chamber was to 

 their liking, much bigger than that the 

 Woodpecker would have made. 



March, the Wakening -moon, was spent 

 in making the home and lining the nest. 

 Bark strips, pine-needles, fine shreds of 

 plants that had defied the wind and 

 snow, rags of clothes left by winter wood- 

 men, feathers, tufts of wool, and many 

 twigs of basswood with their swollen 

 buds, and slippery-elm, and one or two 

 — yes, Silvergray could not resist the 

 impulse — fat acorns found from last 

 year's crop and hidden now deep in the 

 lining of the nest. There can be no hap- 

 pier time for any wild and lusty live thing 



[88] 



