HUNTING THE SNOW 11 



racy tracks which, had they not been evidently 

 those of a smaller squirrel, would have read to us 

 most menacingly. 



As this was the mating season for squirrels, I sug- 

 gested that it might have been a kind of Atalanta's 

 race here in the woods. But why did so little a squir- 

 rel want to mate with one so large ? They would not 

 look well together, was the answer of the small 

 boys. They thought it much more likely that Father 

 Squirrel had been playing wood-tag with one of his 

 children. 



Then, suddenly, as sometimes happens in the woods, 



** 



** 



the true meaning of the signs 



was fairly hurled at us, for 



down the hill, squealing and 



panting, rushed a full-sized gray squirrel, with a red 



squirrel like a shadow, like a weasel, at his heels. 



For just an instant I thought it was a weasel,*so 

 swift and silent and gliding were its movements, so 

 set and cruel seemed its expression, so sure, so inev- 

 itable, its victory. 



Whether it ever caught the gray squirrel or not, 



