Gm ecount with Mature 
home nest, where the family could get at their pro- 
visions in bad weather without coming forth. 
Had I removed the stones and dug out the nest, 
I should have found a tunnel leading into the ground 
for a few feet and opening into a chamber filled with 
a bulky grass nest, — a bed capable of holding half a 
dozen chipmunks, and adjoining this, by a short pas- 
sageway, the storehouse of the oats. 
How many trips they made between this crib and 
the oat patch, how many kernels they carried in their 
pouches at a trip, and how big a pile they had when 
all the grains were in, — these are more of the ques- 
tions I should like to know. 
I might have killed one of the squirrels and num- 
bered the contents of his pouches, but my scientific 
zeal does not quite reach that pitch any more. The 
knowledge of just how many oat kernels a chipmunk 
can stuff into his left cheek (into dot cheeks he can put 
twenty-nine kernels of corn) is really not worth the 
cost of his life. Of course some one has counted 
them, — just as some one has counted the hairs on 
the tail of the dog of the child of the wife of the Wild 
Man of Borneo, or at least seriously guessed at the 
number. 
187 
