XI 



A LIFE OF FEAR 



A S I sat looking from my window the other 

 -^-^ morning upon a red squirrel gathering hickory 

 nuts from a small hickory, and storing them up in 

 his den in the bank, I was forcibly reminded of the 

 state of constant fear and apprehension in which the 

 wild creatures live, and I tried to picture to myself 

 what life would be to me, or to any of us, hedged 

 about by so many dangers, real or imaginary. 



The squirrel would shoot up the tree, making only 

 a brown streak from the bottom to the top ; would 

 seize his nut and rush down again in the most pre- 

 cipitate manner. Half way to his den, which was 

 not over three rods distant, he would rush up the 

 trunk of another tree for a few yards to make an ob- 

 servation. No danger being near, he would dive 

 into his den and reappear again in a twinkling. 



Eeturning for another nut, he would mount the 

 second tree again for another observation. Satisfied 

 that the coast was clear, he would spin along the 

 top of the ground to the tree that bore the nuts, 

 shoot up it as before, seize the fruit, and then back 

 again to his retreat. 



Never did he fail during the half hour or more 



