198 OUR NATIONAL PARKS 



fluffy half squirrel, half spermophile. So gentle, 

 confiding, and busily cheery and happy, he takes 

 one's heart and keeps his place among the best- 

 loved of the mountain darlings. A diligent col- 

 lector of seeds, nuts, and berries, of course he is 

 well fed, though never in the least dumpy with 

 fat. On the contrary, he looks like a mere fluff 

 of fur, weighing but little more than a field 

 mouse, and of his frisky, birdlike liveliness with- 

 out haste there is no end. Douglas can bark 

 with his mouth closed, but little quad always 

 opens his when he talks or sings. He has a 

 considerable variety of notes which correspond 

 with his movements, some of them sweet and 

 liquid, like water dripping into a pool with tink- 

 ling sound. His eyes are black and animated, 

 shining like dew. He seems dearly to like teas- 

 ing a dog, venturing within a few feet of it, then 

 frisking away with a lively chipping and low 

 squirrelish churring ; beating time to his music, 

 such as it is, with his tail, which at each chip and 

 churr describes a half circle. Not even Douglas 

 is surer footed or takes greater risks. I have 

 seen him running about on sheer Yosemite cliffs, 

 holding on with as little effort as a fly and as 

 little thought of danger, in places where, if he 

 had made the least slip, he would have fallen 

 thousands of feet. How fine it would be could 

 mountaineers move about on precipices with the 

 same sure grip ! 



