192 OUR NATIONAL PARKS 



back and listen, — a fine picture of vivid, eager 

 alertness. I sat perfectly still, and as my shirt 

 was colored like the juniper bark I was not easily 

 seen. After a little she came cautiously toward 

 me, sniffing the air and grazing, and her move- 

 ments, as she descended the canon side over 

 boulder piles and brush and fallen timber, were 

 admirably strong and beautiful ; she never 

 strained or made apparent efforts, although 

 jumping high here and there. As she drew 

 nigh she sniffed anxiously, trying the air in dif- 

 ferent directions until she caught my scent ; 

 then bounded off, and vanished behind a small 

 grove of firs. Soon she came back with the same 

 caution and insatiable curiosity, — coming and 

 going five or six times. While I sat admiring 

 her, a Douglas squirrel, evidently excited by her 

 noisy alarms, climbed a boulder beneath me, and 

 witnessed her performances as attentively as I 

 did, while a frisky chipmunk, too restless or hun- 

 gry for such shows, busied himself about his 

 supper in a thicket of shadbushes, the fruit of 

 which was then ripe, glancing about on the 

 slender twigs lightly as a sparrow. 



Toward the end of the Indian summer, when 

 the young are strong, the deer begin to gather 

 in little bands of from six to fifteen or twenty, 

 and on the approach of the first snowstorm they 

 set out on their march down the mountains to 

 their winter quarters j lingering usually on warm 



