116 UNDER THE OPEN SKY 



trip, and found that he could stretch his 

 cheek pouches until he had stowed away 

 thirty-nine. This process made his cheeks 

 bulge until the shape of his flattened head 

 gave him a ludicrous, snake-like look. 



One of the daintiest wild sights I have 

 seen was that of a chipmunk who gleaned 

 a mountain lane after a wagon loaded with 

 wheat sheaves had passed by. The little 

 fellow would pick up a stalk of grain and 

 bite off its head. Then, holding it up with 

 the beard pointing downward and away 

 from his mouth, he worked quickly through 

 the entire spike. To see how the chaff flew 

 and his cheeks swelled with the store of 

 wheat kernels was most delightful. When 

 he had hulled three or four heads his pockets 

 would hold no more, so away he scampered. 

 Along the fence he ran in his quick, jerky 

 way, as if he never could assure himself of 

 his safety for more than five seconds at a 

 time. He would look about him, make a 

 dash, look about him again and take another 

 spurt. Still, I thought he soon learned 

 when one was friendly to him. He would 



