Atalapha, a Winged Brownie 
low and tempt the Trout to leap. None but the 
largest would rise to such a bait. But rise they 
did, and nothing saved the king of the air from 
the king of the pool but a marvellous upward 
bound of lightning speed. There was no lack of 
excitement in it, but when at last a little Bat was 
caught and gulped by a Trout of arrowy swiftness, 
and Atalapha himself had the skin ripped from his 
tail tip, the sport of trouting lost its charm. 
Atalapha’s den was now a knot-hole in an oak. 
The doorway was a tight fit as every cave-dweller 
desires it, but inside was ample room and every 
comfort that shape and sheltered place could give. 
But on a luckless day it occurred to an unscrupu- 
lous Flicker with defective property instincts that 
he could improve this hole by enlargement and 
convert it to uses of his own. So after listening 
to his nagging tap, tap, tap, all one day, and seeing 
the hole get unpleasantly large, Atalapha was 
forced to seek another den. 
The place of his choice was not unlike the first, 
but the entry and den both were larger. Yet the 
former was too small to admit a Red Squirrel, and 
the Bat moved in. 
Next morning when he returned from his early 
meal and was going off to sleep, he was aroused 
by a peculiar scratching. Then the hole was 
171 
