H FOLLOWING 
THE DEER 
carry his flock safely through the 
winter's hunger? That was a story, 
waiting somewhere ahead, which 
made me hurry away from the foot- 
written records that otherwise would 
have kept me busy for hours. 
Crossbills called welcome to me 
high overhead. Nothing can starve 
them out. A red squirrel rushed 
headlong out of his hollow tree at 
the first click of my snowshoes, fir- 
ing a volley of abuse at me for some- 
thing I'did last fall and raising a shrill 
pother about some acorns that the 
jay had stolen. Nothing can check 
Meeko's curiosity or his scolding ex- 
cept his wife, whom 
he likes, and the 
