THE SNOW-WALKERS. 69 



in the still October morning in quest of him ! You 

 step lightly across the threshold of the forest, and sit 

 down upon the first log or rock to await the signals. 

 It is so still that the ear suddenly seems to have ac- 

 quired new powers, and there is no movement to con- 

 fuse the eye. Presently you hear the rustling of a 

 branch, and see it sway or spring as the squirrel leaps 

 from or to it; or else you hear a disturbance in the 

 dry leaves, and mark one running upon the ground. 

 He has probably seen the intruder, and, not liking his 

 stealthy movements, desires to avoid a nearer ac- 

 quaintance. Now he mounts a stump to see if the 

 way is clear, then pauses a moment at the foot of a 

 tree to take his bearings, his tail, as he skims along, 

 undulating behind him, and adding to the easy grace 

 and dignity of his movements. Or else you are first 

 advised of his proximity by the dropping of a false 

 nut, or the fragments of the shucks rattling upon the 

 leaves. Or, again, after contemplating you a while 

 unobserved, arid making up his mind that you are 

 not dangerous, he strikes an attitude on a branch, and 

 commences to quack and bark, with an accompanying 

 movement of his tail. Late in the afternoon, when 

 the same stillness reigns, the same scenes are repeated. 

 There is a black variety, quite rare, but mating freely 

 with the gray, from which he seems to be distin- 

 guished only in color. 



The track of the red squirrel may be known by its 

 smaller size. He is more common and less dignified 

 than the gray, and oftener guilty of petty larceny 



