NEIGHBOURS OF THE WINTER NIGHT 123 



moon last night. That was why the high school went 

 on a sleigh-ride, and why the deer-mice danced! Had 

 you been hidden at the edge of this bit of moon-blanched 

 open, you might have seen them, like tiny sprites, or like 

 dead, curled-up russet-brown oak leaves wind-blown 

 over the snow, with their tails for stems. Follow one of 

 the tracks back from the open. It leads to a rotten 

 old stump. Inside, somewhere, the mouse is sleeping. 



We have passed Mr. Weasel's wall, and the spot 

 where the deer-mice danced. Keeping our eyes to the 

 ground, we see innumerable squirrel tracks, groups of 

 four prints, sometimes three feet apart when the squir- 

 rel took a long bound, and every now and again they 

 disappear into a round hole in the snow. Usually there 

 is a second hole a few feet farther on. The squirrel 

 came up again probably with a cone. Follow his track, 

 and it will lead to the base of a tree or an old stump, and 

 there you will find fresh bits of the cone crumbs from 

 his table. You will find tracks of partridges, too, and 

 places where they have scratched the snow on a 

 southern bank till the fresh green of the partridge-berry 

 vines gleams through, and perhaps a red berry or two, 

 overlooked by the bird. Squirrels and partridges, to be 

 sure, are day neighbours rather than night, but you may 

 be certain they were up earlier than we were. 



The woods are getting a little wilder now. We come 

 upon an open place where the snow is trodden down by 

 large animals. In the centre are the remnants of a 



