XIX. WINTER ACTIVITIES OF WILD ANIMALS 



"Of all beasts he learned the language, 

 Learned their names and all their secrets, 

 How the beavers built their lodges, 

 Where the squirrels hid their acorns, 

 How the reindeer ran so swiftly, 

 Why the rabbit was so timid, 

 Talked with them whene'er he met them, 

 Called them 'Hiawatha's brothers'." 



— Longfellow {Hiawatha's Childhood). 



In winter, Nature puts most of her animal population to 

 sleep. In lodge and in burrow and under every sort of 

 shelter, they hibernate. This saves food at the season when 

 food is most scarce, and removes the less hardy, for a time, 

 from the stress of competition. Numerically, it is a very 

 small fraction of the total animal life that remains active 

 during the winter: only a few birds and mammals. Most 

 birds have gone far south, and many mammals lie, like the 

 woodchucks, dormant in their burrows. But more than we 

 are likely to see, unless we diligently seek them out, are active 

 in our midst throughout the season. 



After every snowfall, there is a new record made of the 

 winter activity of animals; and anyone, who knows the signs, 

 may read it. On the snow, as on a new white page, each 

 animal prints its own indisputable narrative. Its footprints 

 tell where and whence and how it ran. The leavings from its 

 luncheon tell what and where and how it ate. The chips 

 from its woodworkings, the scales from its hustings, or the 

 earth from its diggings, tell how and where and why it labored. 

 And if, by mischance, it fell a prey to some fierce foe, its 

 blood-stained fur or feathers by the wayside tell how its little 

 life ended in a tragedy. 



On the soft snow we may find the "signs" of animals that 

 we rarely meet. Where we have seen no rabbits, the brush- 



