MAMMALS OF THE MEXICAN BOUNDARY. 253 



flatten itself upon the ground and watch the rider, and I have known 

 it to allow itself to be struck with a whip rather than deviate "from 

 the course it meant to pursue. Seizing a favorable opportunity it 

 dashes for the tree which it originally intended to climb and seeks 

 concealment and safety among its lofty branches. It seldom enters 

 holes in the trunk or branches of the pines, but prefers, when pur- 

 sued by its natural enemies, to trust to its dexterity in whisking 

 around to the opposite side and then hiding. 



At times this squirrel is somewhat gregarious. Frequently an 

 entire family may be seen running together upon the ground, or a 

 Iialf dozen enjoying a frolic in a pine tree. In May, which is the 

 rutting season, whole troops of males are commonly seen chasing the 

 females. 



I spent the latter part of May, 1887, in examining the fauna at the 

 summit of the MogoUon Mountains, being camped on the old star- 

 route wagon pass. While there we experienced rain storms almost 

 every day, and occasional flurries of snow, after which the sun 

 would shine forth warm and bright. After these unseasonable 

 " April showers " every living creature on the mountain seemed filled 

 with unwonted excitement and activity. The woods resounded with 

 bird choruses, turkeys gobbled on the neighboring hillsides, and the 

 smaller squirrels chattered and chippered in concert. Then the 

 Abert squirrels were sure to come trooping about our camp, and their 

 cries — a loud squall resembling that of the eastern gray squirrel — 

 -mingled with the general medley of sounds. I have "a, note that 

 my m.en shot with their carbines from a single pine tree 11 Abert 

 squirrels, all of which were males, and that 47 were eaten by our 

 party in that one camp. They were first parboiled, and then fried 

 in batter. The flesh is light and delicate. 



At Humphreys " Peak, the highest point of land in Arizona, the 

 Abert squirrel only penetrates the fir and spruce forest as far as 

 scattered pines occur. The greatest altitude at which I found it 

 was nearly 9,000 feet. 



When in the San Francisco forest, early in June, I heard some 

 long-crested jays scolding with their usual spirit in a pine tree. On 

 walking to the spot I saw a nest and began climbing the tree. When 

 halfway up, the owner of the nest, which proved to be an Abert squir- 

 rel instead of the long-crested jays, passed me, coming down on a 

 neighboring trunk. We both stopped, when about to pass, and took 

 a good look at each other. I felt a supreme disgust at my taxi- 

 dermic productions when I looked at the living creature within a few 

 feet of me. The squirrel had taken forcible possession of the jays' 

 unfinished nest and had built a round nest upon it, composed entirely 

 of clumps of wire grass pulled up by the roots, having an entrance at 

 the side.' 



