io8 Next to the Ground 



if there is fair water within a mile. If they 

 came through the tree tops, it was in a line 

 almost as straight as a bird's flight. More 

 commonly they came along the ground, in 

 running leaps, rising upon the haunches every 

 little while to throw the ears back, listen, and 

 look around. Sometimes when dew was heavy, 

 a squirrel stopped to sip beads of it from the 

 edge of a broad leaf. At the waterside they 

 did not sip, but drank deep, bending far out 

 over the water, with tails laid flat and stiff 

 on the ground as though to anchor them. 

 Because of this fine tail, a squirrel is a very 

 poor swimmer. Old hunters declare that 

 when the little animals migrate, as sometimes 

 happens through the failure of mast, they cross 

 rivers by launching upon the water, sticks, bits 

 of bark and chips, to which they cling, keep- 

 ing their tails above water, and holding them 

 up as sails, until they drift across. 



Joe and Patsy inclined to believe the story, 

 although they had never seen such a thing hap- 

 pen. But they had seen the squirrels do other 

 things almost as wonderful — as for example 

 distinguishing between a gun and a fishing 

 pole, or just a plain stick. Sometimes when 

 they went through the woods, with sticks or 

 fishing poles, the squirrels really jeered at 

 them from low boughs, barking their loudest, 

 and even flinging down acorn hulls on their 



