172 
NATURE NOTES 
gently past the tree again, looked up, and was rewarded by a 
good side-view of him, standing right across another fork. His 
head was partly hidden, but his pretty, pouting body filled up 
the angle nicely, and his tail swept out behind a prong of the 
fork, the lower half of it hanging down like a spray of dry 
bracken. The front part of his head I could not see, but his left 
ear was visible, and was listening most intently. Once or twice 
I saw it twitch, just as a horse’s does when disturbed by a fly. 
I feel perfectly sure he still thought me on the other side of the 
tree, for presently he ran up nearly to the top, waited a bit, and 
then took a pretty little canter along a branch that extended 
half-way across the open space, feeling certain, at last, that I 
had gone. He now enjoyed himself without reserve. 
“ How he darted about, visiting all the branches of the two 
large trees, stopping every now and then to sit up and eat 
something, not acorns, for he seemed to find his breakfast close 
to the large stems, not among the leaves. I believe he bit off 
young shoots, ate the tips— as we do asparagus — and threw 
down the stalks. I watched the pretty creature till five o’clock, 
then walked gently on, feasting my eyes and ears upon treasures 
that are hidden from none but the blind and deaf — and those 
who get up late ! ” 
(2) “Saturday, September 21. In the wood this morning 
soon after six. While walking beside the fir plantation I saw a 
squirrel cross the path, and then in a great fright hurry back 
again. Feeling sure I should be rewarded if I stopped, I put 
my bike against the fence and stood perfectly still, expecting to 
see the little fellow reappear out of the bracken and run up 
a pine tree. Still as a stone I stood and watched for some 
minutes, and then concluded that he was somewhere among 
the ferns — perhaps watching me ! Thinking he had probably 
seen enough of me, I moved towards the fence to take hold of 
my bike, when all at once a passionate ‘ chut, chut ’ sounded 
just over my head, like steam forced through a valve. By 
the way, the squirrel is no linguist. His little soul has been 
busy solving the problems of shape and speed, while that of 
speech has been sadly neglected. He seems to have no idea of 
a vowel, and treats the word ‘ chut ’ as if it were an acorn. He 
certainly kept the kernel, and threw only the husk at me ! 
There he was about four yards above me on a bare pine branch, 
letting off steam and writhing with fury or fright. He had not 
entered the bracken after all, but slipped up the first tree he 
could find — a short, deformed specimen that must have disap- 
pointed him sorely as soon as he began to climb and looked up. 
He could easily have made a better choice if he had gone 
farther; but being there, he had been trying to make the best 
of it, and he succeeded till he lost his head and made that 
splutter. The poor little chap was bursting with excitement. 
His beautiful tail was bunched out like a stiff cylindrical brush, 
and his little body was palpitating with fear, twisted up almost 
