ANGLES." 



CHAS. W. BERRY. 



The clouds which had hovered continu- 

 ously over the Capital City for nearly 3 

 weeks had dispersed, and in their stead 

 appeared the blue sky and sunshine of the 

 Southland, when, on the 10th of Novem- 

 ber, I proceeded on a day's outing, with 

 the anticipation of securing a few gray 

 squirrels for the home larder. 



The route taken was over the conduit 

 road which leads from Washington to the 

 Great Falls of the Potomac, some 18 miles 

 of well kept and extensively used roadway. 

 The objective point was a forest of about 

 800 acres situated on the East bank of the 

 Potomac river in Montgomery county, 

 Maryland, 14 miles distant from the city 

 limits. 



The ever-changing and beautiful scenery 

 of the Potomac, the variegated colors of 

 the foliage bordering the route, and the 

 exhilarating exercise Of wheeling caused 

 both time and distance to pass rapidly and 

 agreeably, and the desired locality was soon 

 in view. 



The wheel was stabled at the home 'of a 

 friend, the cycling costume changed for an 

 aged hunting suit, and in a short time I 

 was in the heart of the woods. The local- 

 ity selected was a hillside on which was a 

 rather heavy growth of hickory, chestnut, 

 oak and pine, free frOm underbrush, and 

 with a small stream of water cascading at 

 the foot of the elevation. 



Taking a seat on the body of a storm 

 smitten pine, I feasted my eyes on the 

 impressive scenes which the canvas of Nat- 

 ure disclosed. The high winds of autumn 

 had denuded the trees of their foliage. I 

 was congratulating myself on haying 

 chosen so admirable a place for squirrel 

 hunting when my attention was attracted 

 by the sound of rustling leaves; although, 

 try as I might, I could not discover the 

 cause of the commotion. Surely it was 

 not the touch of the wind? No; my ex- 

 perience in woodcraft promptly answered 

 in the negative. Again the sound comes 

 floating on the air, this time nearer and off 

 to the right. Another pause, and the cause 

 of my perplexity assumes tangible shape in 

 the form of a red squirrel, to which, evi- 

 dently, my presence was as yet unknown. 

 He runs along with that peculiar humpy 

 movement so characteristic of the sciurns, 

 now stops and sits bolt upright, his bushy 

 tail gracefully following the contour of his 

 back. He gives his marked attention tem- 

 porarily to a troublesome visitor on his 

 flank. Relieved of this incumbrance, he 

 springs quickly to the left and has a short 

 frolic with a fluttering oak leaf. Then a 



nut is found, he takes it daintily in his 

 paws, critically examines it, evidently con- 

 cludes it will just fit his restaurant de- 

 partment, deftly chips off a portion of the 

 shell, then suddenly transfers it to his 

 mouth, mounts the big log on which I 

 am perched and heads in my direction. I 

 remain perfectly motionless, determined to 

 sit the act out. He gallops rapidly and 

 gracefully toward me until within about 

 15 feet when he makes the discovery that 

 the title to his run-way is clouded by squat- 

 ter sovereignty. This was contrary to the 

 ethics of squirrel courtesy, and as unex- 

 pected to him as it was illegal. Quicker 

 than a flash he scampers to a neighboring 

 pine and is ensconced among its branches, 

 out of danger, as he has been from the 

 first, so far as his audience is concerned. 

 In his hasty departure, however, he has left 

 the nut on .the run-way, and even now, 

 hidden from my sight as he is, I can im- 

 agine the fertile schemes he is revolving in 

 his mind to regain possession of his prop- 

 erty. 



Silence reigns supreme for some minutes, 

 and I conclude that as the sun is getting 

 well toward 2 o'clock it would not be a 

 bad plan to emulate the example of my 

 little friend and partake of food. I in- 

 stinctively reach for my watch, but hardly 

 has the arm moved a foot when our red 

 friend in the pine makes his presence 

 known. He comes scampering out on a 

 lower branch extending in my direction, 

 and then proceeds to fan me with the choic- 

 est collection of red-squirrel billingsgate 

 to be pumped out of his magazine, punctu- 

 ating his staccato shots with vigorous flips 

 and jerks of his bushy tail. The atmos- 

 phere becomes so lurid and he is so thor- 

 oughly imbued with the justness of his re- 

 buke, and the absolute contemptibility of 

 the offense I have committed, that he can't 

 keep still. He waltzes up and down the 

 trunk of the pine and forward and back- 

 ward on the limb, aiming smokeless ex- 

 plosions at me until he gets a severe attack 

 of the hiccough. You needn't tell me a red 

 squirrel which has been defrauded of his 

 dinner, has had his personal run-way 

 squatted upon, and has been half frightened 

 out of his hide can't use unparliamentary 

 language. He expressed his supreme con- 

 tempt for mankind, taking me as a sample, 

 in general. Then he merged into person- 

 alities; reviled me, threatened all manner 

 of chastisement, and even dared me to come 

 up and give him the satisfaction of a gen- 

 tleman and a squirrel. Finding I was ob- 

 durate and not inclined to comply or re- 



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