204 AROUND AN OLD HOMESTEAD. 



my face with the most beseeching appeal, and I could 

 not resist such language as that. So he stayed, and 

 was even more quiet than I was, following in my steps 

 like an Indian. But there ! the gray had heard us. 

 Three big leaps ! In the last he sprang from the hickory 

 toward a large branch of a maple, some thirty feet 

 away, but missed his judgment, and passed beyond 

 to the trunk, to which he clung, and disappeared around 

 on the other side in safety in a twinkling. I have 

 killed squirrels on the run, and that with a rifle, but 

 I do not care ordinarily to risk the shot with a single 

 ball, and so I let him go. The dog leaped and barked 

 and became perfectly wild with desire, so strong is the 

 dog's instinct for hunting and wild life. He took a 

 run, with a short, passionate bark, and leaped up on 

 the tree trunk nearly ten feet, dug into the bark with 

 his nails, and strained every fiber to reach the squirrel, 

 who long ago was safe away in his hole and chuckling. 

 But it was a vain struggle ; he was made to be a runner, 

 not a climber. In justice to the dog, however, it should 

 be said that in the end we did not return home empty- 

 handed, and that he had his full share of the spoils. 



I used sometimes also to divide with the cat, and 

 he certainly did enjoy my hospitality. More than milk, 

 more than scraps of any description, did that old Mal- 

 tese like to eat squirrels — even the fur, — crunching it 

 down as if he recognized their relationship to the 

 mouse, and so, in a sort of penance, in lieu of the little 

 mice, made greater havoc by proxy. But he got so 

 that he would follow me to the woods, and yowl and 

 skip and scratch about among the leaves, and so I 

 desisted, and remanded him to the milder effects of his 

 previous diet of bread and milk. 



