f 



THE SNOW-WALKERS. 7 1 



sumes a tone of good-natured, child-like defiance and 

 derision. That pretty little imp, the chipmunk, will sit 

 on the stone above his den, and defy you, as plainly as 

 if he said so, to catch him before he can get into his 

 hole if you can. You hurl a stone at him, and " No 

 you did n't " comes up from the depth of his retreat. 



In February another track appears upon the snow, 

 slender and delicate, about a third larger than that of 

 the gray squirrel, indicating no haste or speed, but, on 

 the contrary, denoting the most imperturbable ease 

 and leisure, the foot-prints so close together that the 

 trail appears like a chain of curiously carved links. 

 Sir Mephitis chinga, or, in plain English, the skunk, 

 has woke up from his six weeks' nap, and come out into 

 society again. He is a nocturnal traveller, very bold 

 and impudent, coming quite up to the barn and out- 

 , buildings, and sometimes taking up his quarters for the 

 season under the hay-mow. There is no such word as 

 hurry in his dictionary, as you may see by his path upon 

 the snow. He has a very sneaking, insinuating way, • 

 and goes creeping about the fields and woods, never 

 once in a perceptible degree altering his gait, and, if a 

 fence crosses his course, steers for a break or opening 

 to avoid climbing. He is too indolent even to dig his 

 own hole, but appropriates that of a woodchuck, or 

 hunts out a crevice in the rocks, from which he ex- 

 tends his rambling in all directions, preferring damp, 

 thawy weather. He has very little discretion or cun- 

 ning, and holds a trap in utter contempt, stepping into 



