SQUIRRELS INTERVIEWED 17 1 
midway between Bromley and Croydon, there is a charming 
wood (at West Wickham) in whicli squirrels may be seen on 
any morning fine enough for a spin on the bicycle by those who 
can get up early. That, at any rate, is my experience, and I 
have been there tw'ice a week before sunrise since the beginning 
of May (till October). Not once has little Shadow-Tail dis 
appointed me. Indeed, on several occasions I have seen three 
while sauntering through the wood, and without leaving the 
bridle- path. 
The following brief extracts from my note-book may be 
interesting to lovers of Nature and her ways : — 
(i) “ Saturday, July 6 . Rose at three, and got into the 
wood at four. I was walking as usual beside my bike in the 
bridle-path. About half-way through the wood, on the right 
side of the path, there are three oaks, the first small, the other 
two shapely, well-grown trees. Between and beyond these 
trees there is an open clearing. Just as I came up a squirrel 
was bounding across this, near the third tree. The little fellow 
saw me, and whisked round the back of the tree in a moment. 
I pulled up directly, lest I should frighten him back into the 
wood, and hoped he would climb into the oak and exhibit him- 
self. After waiting tw'o or three minutes, listening and looking 
for him in vain, I moved quietly past and watched on the other 
side of the tree. There was no sign of the little runaway, and 
I thought he must have gone back to the wood. I had been so 
careful not to offend him that I felt disappointed. Then I 
looked into the hazels near and wondered whether he had been 
foolish enough to take refuge among them. Finally, I went 
back to my first position between the two large trees and looked 
longingly up into number three again. 
“Now, I thought, the young scamp has dished me, but he 
may be somewhere among the branches at the top, hidden by 
the leaves. If so, he is very still, and I will wait till he moves. 
Presently a small object caught my eye. At the top of the 
trunk, in a hollow between two thick branches, I saw something 
like a short stump, about the size of a man’s thumb. At first 
I thought a small branch had been broken off short ; but would 
a branch grow out of a hollow like that ? Then I wondered 
whether a branch had fallen from above and got caught in the 
foliage underneath, its broken end showing just above the fork. 
1 watched this turned-up thumb for some minutes before I could 
catch any sign of life. At last there was a slight, quick move- 
ment in the fork. I had not stirred foot, hand or head, or even 
eyelid, though a hungry fly had been feasting on the back of 
my hand all the while. To bring matters to a point I suddenly 
shook my hand, and then realised that the rascal had been 
w'atching me all this time, for that little stump vanished as if by 
magic. I was now sure that he was in the tree, and that I had 
only to wait. I did wait for nearly five minutes, but the little 
fellow would not show himself. Where could he be ? I glided 
