FIELD MICE 



store-room is always closed when the wise little 

 owner travels abroad. During all the work of 

 destruction on the part of Mongola nothing 

 was seen of the owners of this mysterious, wind- 

 ing, underground mansion. We had about 

 concluded that the home had been deserted 

 when our little companion dug into a chamber 

 larger than the others and disclosed something 

 new. In the center lay a round ball of soft 

 grass. In an instant the skunk had sprung 

 forward and seized it in his mouth. As he did 

 so the tiniest little gray thing sprang from the 

 meshes of the ball and dashed off through the 

 grass. Mongola dropped the nest and in one 

 leap caught the dainty little mother-mouse be- 

 tween his paws and then savagely tore it to 

 pieces with his sharp teeth before our astonished 

 eyes. It was done so quickly that had we been 

 alive to the situation and tried to save the tiny 

 thing it would have been impossible. The little 

 life had been sacrificed to the needs of another 

 animal, stronger and its natural enemy. Before 

 we realized what the skunk was about he had 

 again taken possession of the grass nest and had 

 torn it apart. Out rolled six little balls of fur 

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