The Story of a Graysquirrel 



a veritable trail fork. Had Bannertail 

 been fed and full, the tiny little sense of 

 repulsion would have turned the scale, 

 would have reasserted and strengthened 

 the first true verdict of his guides — "Bad, 

 let it alone." But it had an attractive 

 nut-like aroma that was sweetly appetiz- 

 ing, that set his mouth a-watering; and 

 this thing turned the scale — he was hun- 

 gry. 



He nibbled and liked it, and nibbled 

 yet more. And though it was a big, 

 broad mushroom, he stopped not till it all 

 was gone. Food, good food it surely was. 

 But it was something more; the weird 

 juices that are the earth-child's blood en- 

 tered into him and set the fountains of 

 his life force playing with marvellous 

 power. He was elated. He was full of 

 fight. He flung out a defiant "Qua!" at 

 a Hen-hawk flying over. He rummaged 

 through the pines to find that fighting 



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