116 RIVERBY 



were large masses of wet, decaying fur here, and fur 

 pellets such as are regurgitated by hawks and owls. 

 In the nest there was the tail of a flying squirrel, 

 showing that the weasel sometimes had a flying squir- 

 rel for supper or dinner. 



I continued my digging with renewed energy; I 

 should yet find the grand depot where all these pas- 

 sages centred ; but the farther I excavated, the more 

 complex and baffling the problem became ; the ground 

 was honeycombed with passages. What enemy has 

 this weasel, I said to myself, that he should provide 

 ao many ways of escape, that he should have a back 

 door at every turn? To corner him would be im- 

 possible; to be lost in his fortress were like being 

 lost in Mammoth Cave. How he could bewilder 

 his pursuer by appearing now at this door, now at 

 that ; now mocking him from the attic, now defying . 

 him from the cellar! So far, I had discovered but 

 one entrance ; but some of the chambers were so near 

 the surface that it looked as if the planner had calcu- 

 lated upon an emergency when he might want to 

 reach daylight quickly in a new place. 



Finally I paused, rested upon my shovel a while, 

 eased my aching back upon the ground, and then 

 gave it up, feeling as I never had before the force of 

 the old saying, that you cannot catch a weasel asleep. 

 I had made an ugly hole in the bank, had handled 

 over two or three times a ton or more of earth, and 

 was apparently no nearer the weasel and his store 

 of mice than when I began. 



Then I regretted that I had broken into his castle 



