FIELD MICE 



almost to the ground. On these occasions they 

 used their long tails to aid them in climbing by 

 giving them balance and also to twist about the 

 slender twigs. Whenever I placed flies and cock- 

 roaches in their cage they played a regular game 

 of hide and seek, or real tag, with the unfortu- 

 nate insects until all were caught and devoured. 

 One day, shortly before Mongola met his 

 death, Aunt and I found him standing upon 

 his hind legs peering through the fine wire 

 meshes with a longing hungry look in his bright 

 eyes. Within were the two little trembling 

 mice. Deacon was perched on a twig and grasp- 

 ing it very tightly. His whiskers stood out 

 straight from his face, and stiffly, and his little 

 eyes fairly bulged with fright. Down below 

 him, backed against a mound of dirt, sat Quaker 

 in an attitude of abject fear. As Mongola 

 uttered low, short grunts and moved about in 

 front of the cage the trembling little mice fol- 

 lowed him warily with their eyes. But Mon- 

 gola was not to end their lives in his usual way! 

 It turned out that this was the last time that 

 the unfortunate skunk even so much as feasted 

 his eyes on the mice. 



[239] 



