NOTES BY THE WAY 159 



as a fieldcimck. Occasionally, however, one seems 

 to prefer the woods, and is not seduced by the 

 sunny slopes and the succulent grass, but feeds, as 

 did his fathers before him, upon roots and twigs, 

 the bark of young trees, and upon various wood 

 plants. 



One summer day, as I was swimming across a 

 broad, deep pool in the creek in a secluded place in 

 the woods, I saw one of these sylvan chucks amid 

 the rocks but a few feet from the edge of the water 

 where I proposed to touch. He saw my approach, 

 but doubtless took me for some water-fowl, or for 

 some cousin of his of the muskrat tribe; for he 

 went on with his feeding, and regarded me not till 

 I paused within ten feet of him and lifted myself 

 up. Then he did not know me, having, perhaps, 

 never seen Adam in his simplicity, but he twisted 

 his nose around to catch my scent ; and the moment 

 he had done so he sprang like a jumping- jack and 

 rushed into his den with the utmost precipitation. 



The woodchuck is the true serf among our ani- 

 mals; he belongs to the soil, and savors of it. He 

 is of the earth, earthy. There is generally a de- 

 cided odor about his dens and lurking places, but 

 it is not at all disagreeable in the clover-scented air; 

 and his shrill whistle, as he takes to his hole or 

 defies the farm dog from the interior of the stone 

 wall, is a pleasant summer sound. In form and 

 movement the woodchuck is not captivating. His 

 body is heavy and flabby. Indeed, such a flaccid, 

 fluid, pouchy carcass I have never before seen. It 



