THE MUSKRAT AND ITS HOME 



much damage to pasture-land and dams by under- 

 mining them in this way. On our way home 

 we noticed a large muskrat swimming toward 

 the opposite shore with some long, greenish- 

 white roots in his mouth. Presently he reached 

 an old stump that stood nearly a foot above the 

 water. He climbed upon it and began washing 

 the roots. When they were thoroughly cleaned 

 he ate them in a most greedy manner until the 

 last root was devoured. He then sat so perfectly 

 still that it was impossible to distinguish him 

 from a part of the stump. 



One afternoon in late September Joe and I 

 were picking wild grapes. We were anxious to 

 fill our baskets and so had remained at our task 

 until after sundown. Joe carried his own home- 

 made willow basket and we both carried mine 

 between us. As we tramped along in the dusk 

 of the early evening, catching our feet now and 

 then in wild cucumber vines, running into a 

 clump of cockle burs, or treading on a bunch 

 of sand burs, we rounded the bend of the stream 

 near a sandbar where the channel was narrow 

 and shallow enough to wade across. Splash ! 

 splash ! splash ! was the only sound that greeted 

 C'45] 



