196 OUR NATIONAL PARKS 



and the acrobatic harlequin gyrating show he 

 makes of himself turns one giddy to see. The 

 gray is shy and oftentimes stealthy, as if half ex- 

 pecting to find an enemy in every tree and bush 

 and behind every log ; he seems to wish to be 

 let alone, and manifests no desire to be seen, or 

 admired, or feared. He is hunted by the In- 

 dians, and this of itself is cause enough for cau- 

 tion. The Douglas is less attractive for game, 

 and probably increasing in numbers in spite of 

 every enemy. He goes his ways bold as a lion, 

 up and down and across, round and round, the 

 happiest, merriest of all the hairy tribe, and at 

 the same time tremendously earnest and solemn, 

 sunshine incarnate, making every tree tingle 

 with his electric toes. If you prick him, you 

 cannot think he will bleed. He seems above the 

 chance and change that beset common mortals, 

 though in busily gathering burs and nuts he 

 shows that he has to work for a living, like the 

 rest of us. I never found a dead Douglas. He 

 gets into the world and out of it without being 

 noticed; only in prime is he seen, like some 

 little plants that are visible only when in bloom. 

 The little striped Tamias quadrivittatus is one 

 of the most amiable and delightful of all the 

 mountain tree-climbers. A brighter, cheerier 

 chipmunk does not exist. He is smarter, more 

 arboreal and squirrel-like, than the familiar East- 

 ern species, and is distributed as widely on the 



