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diff --git a/old/53812-0.txt b/old/53812-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 65e74c4..0000000 --- a/old/53812-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5297 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Book of Clever Beasts, by Myrtle Reed - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Book of Clever Beasts - Studies in Unnatural History - -Author: Myrtle Reed - -Illustrator: Peter Newell - -Release Date: December 27, 2016 [EBook #53812] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOK OF CLEVER BEASTS *** - - - - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -[Illustration: - - “She made them gallop around an imaginary ring.” - - See page 79.] - - - - - The Book of Clever - - Beasts - - - Studies in Unnatural History - - - By - - Myrtle Reed - - Illustrated by Peter Newell - - [Illustration: wolf drawing] - - G. P. Putnam’s Sons - New York and London - The Knickerbocker Press - 1904 - - - - - _By_ Myrtle Reed - - --- - - Love Letters of a Musician - Later Love Letters of a Musician - The Spinster Book - Lavender and Old Lace - Pickaback Songs - The Shadow of Victory - The Master’s Violin - The Book of Clever Beasts - - [Illustration: cat drawing] - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1904 - BY - MYRTLE REED - - Published, October, 1904 - - [Illustration: crow drawing] - - - - - Dedicated to - Lovers of Truth - Everywhere - - [Illustration: owl drawing] - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. LITTLE UPSIDAISI 1 - - II. JAGG, THE SKOOTAWAY GOAT 22 - - III. SNOOF 51 - - IV. KITCHI-KITCHI 82 - - V. JIM CROW 108 - - VI. HOOP-LA 136 - - VII. JENNY RAGTAIL 168 - - VIII. HOOT-MON 198 - - IX. APPENDIX 225 - -[Illustration: bear drawing] - - - - - ILLUSTRATIONS - - - PAGE - - “She made them gallop around an imaginary ring” _Frontispiece_ - - “Instinctively, I followed them” 20 - - “There was something very human in the grateful 36 - look he gave me just before closing his eyes” - - “Her little hand rested confidingly in his great 68 - paw” - - “She arrived on the fair, open page of my 94 - observation ledger, sooty, panting, but - thoroughly happy” - - “Put the crotch under his wing, and with this 116 - improvised crutch, went back to the cabin” - - “Hoop-La sat beside me, with her hands on her 154 - sides, rocking and swaying in a spasm of - merriment” - - “In plain sight of the whole school, punished him 186 - severely with a lady’s slipper” - - “Coquetting like lovers on a moonlight night” 204 - -[Illustration: rabbit drawing] - - - - - BIBLIOGRAPHY - - -Although practically all the Nature Books of recent years have been -carefully studied in order to gather material for this volume, the -author desires to make grateful acknowledgment of her indebtedness to -the following works, which have proved particularly helpful and -suggestive: - - JOHN BURROUGHS: - _Squirrels and Other Fur-Bearers._ - “Real and Sham Natural History,” _Atlantic Monthly_, March, 1903. - - WILLIAM DAVENPORT HULBERT: - _Forest Neighbours._ - - ERNEST INGERSOLL: - _Wild Life of Orchard and Field._ - - WILLIAM J. LONG: - _A Little Brother to the Bear._ - _Beasts of the Field._ - _Ways of Wood Folk._ - _Wood Folk at School._ - _Secrets of the Woods._ - _Wilderness Ways._ - “The Modern School of Nature Study and its Critics,” _North - American Review_, May, 1903. - - CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS: - _The Heart of the Ancient Wood._ - _The Kindred of the Wild._ - - ERNEST THOMPSON-SETON: - _Wild Animals I Have Known._ - _Lives of the Hunted._ - - MASON A. WALTON: - _A Hermit’s Wild Friends._ - -[Illustration: duck drawing] - - - - - THE BOOK OF CLEVER BEASTS - - [Illustration: goat drawing] - - - - - LITTLE UPSIDAISI - - -I shall never forget the day I first saw him! That, indeed, was a day to -be marked in my note-book with a red cross. I kept red ink and maltese -ink in my cabin, to be used when things did or did not happen, as the -case might be. By this simple method I was enabled to keep track of the -notes suitable for the magazines which pay the best, reserving the -others for the periodicals which reimburse their army of contributors at -the starvation rate of a cent a word, no distinction being made between -long and short words. It is depressing, when you think of it, that a -long scientific name brings no more than a plain Anglo-Saxon word in one -syllable, and that only a cent apiece is paid for new words coined for -the occasion and which have never before been printed in any book. - -But I digress. It was early in the Spring when my physician said to me: -“My dear Mr. Johnson-Sitdown, you are getting dashed dotty.” This was a -pleasing allusion to my employment, for, as the discerning reader has -long since guessed, I was a telegraph operator in a great city, where -the click of the instrument was superadded to the roar of the elevated -trains, the rumble of the surface cars, and the nerve-destroying -concussions made by the breaking of the cable during rush hours morning -and evening. - -“What you need,” said this gifted scientist to me, “is absolute rest and -quiet. If you do not pack up and take to the woods within three days -from the receipt of this notice, I will not answer for the consequences. -Your brain is slowly but surely giving way. Your batteries are becoming -exhausted and must be renewed if measurable currents are to be expected. -I recommend new cells, rather than recharging from a dynamo. Get busy -now, and let me see you no more until September first.” - -Face to face with my death warrant, as it were, I unhesitatingly obeyed. -Fortunately, my grandmother had left me a small log cabin in a clearing, -this being her ancestral domicile and the only piece of real estate she -possessed at the time of her long-delayed demise some months back. -Without waiting to inspect it, I hurried to my new home, accompanied -only by a few books on Natural History—which, as I afterward discovered, -were by ignorant and untrustworthy writers, seeking to prey upon the -credulity of the uninstructed public,—and Tom-Tom, my Cat. - -I had not intended to take Tom-Tom, but his fine animal instinct warned -him of my impending departure, and he sat upon my bookcase and wailed -piteously all through my packing. My foolish heart has always been -strangely tender toward the lower animals, and I hastened to reassure -Tom-Tom. After a little, I made him understand that wherever I went he -should go also, and he frisked about my apartment like a wild thing at -play, waving his tail madly in the exuberance of his joy. - -Among the ignorant, the waving of a tail by any member of the Cat family -is taken to mean anger. According to my own observations, it may also -indicate joy. Darwin has distinguished several canine emotions which are -distinctively expressed in the bark. Correlatively, I have tabulated -eight emotions expressed by the _caudalis appendagis felinis_, according -to the method of waving it—down, up, right, left, twice to the right, -once to the left, then up, and so on. These discoveries I reserve for a -future article, as I began to tell about Little Upsidaisi. - -When I reached my home in the wilderness, it was nearly nightfall. I had -only time to unpack my books, place them upon a rough shelf I hastily -constructed, draw out the rude table which happened to be in a corner of -my cabin, and place upon it my observation ledger, my pocket note-book, -and my red and maltese inks. - -Tom-Tom watched my proceedings with great interest, and after I had -built my camp-fire, just outside the cabin door, we ate our frugal meal -of bologna, wienerwursts, pretzels, and canned salmon, relying upon the -cracker-box for bread, which Tom-Tom did not seem to care for. I was too -tired to make either bread or coffee, but promised myself both for -breakfast the following morning. - -Before retiring, I made a pilgrimage to the beach and secured nearly a -peck of fine sand. I scattered this all about my cabin, that in the -morning I might see what visitors had left their cards, so to speak, -upon this tell-tale medium of communication. - -My first night in the clearing was uneventful. The unusual quiet kept me -awake, and I thought that if someone would only pound a tin pan under my -window, I could soon lose consciousness. The Cat purred methodically in -the hollow of my arm, but even with the noise of my Tom-Tom in my ears, -it was four o’clock, according to my jewelled repeater, before I finally -got to sleep. - -When I awoke, it was broad day, and after dressing hurriedly, I ran out -to look at the sand, which the Cat had not disturbed, being sound asleep -still. Poor Tom-Tom! Perhaps he, too, found a cabin in the wilderness an -unusual resting place. - -Much to my delight, though hardly to my surprise, the sand was covered -with a fine tracery, almost like lace-work. The prints of tiny toes were -to be discovered here and there, and now and then a broad sweep, -evidently made by a tail. - -I would have thought it the work of fairies, dancing in the moonlight, -had I not dedicated my life to Science. As it was, I surmised almost -instantly that it was the Field Mouse—the common species, known as -_rodentia feminis scarus_, and reference to my books proved me right. - -By measuring the prints, according to the metric system, with delicate -instruments I had brought for the purpose, I soon discovered that these -tracks were all made by the same individual. The Bertillon method has -its uses, but unfortunately I was not sufficiently up in my calling, as -yet, to reconstruct the entire animal from a track. I have since done -it, but I could not then. - -Tom-Tom came out into the sunlight, waving his glorious, plumed tail, -yawning, and loudly demanding food. I called him to me, using the old, -familiar Cat-call which I have always employed with the species, and the -faithful pet made a great bound toward me. Suddenly he stopped, as if -caught on a foul half-way to the grand stand, and began to sniff -angrily. His back arched, his tail enlarged, and began to wave in a -circle. Great agitation possessed Tom-Tom, and he, too, was scrutinising -the sand. - -Wondering at his fine instinct, I hastened to his side, and, thereupon, -my pet unmistakably hissed. It required a magnifying-glass and some -reconstruction of line before I could make out what had so disturbed -him, but at last I discovered that a rude picture of a Cat had been -drawn in the sand, evidently by a tail tipped with malice, immediately -in front of my cabin door! - -Truth compels me to state that the hideous caricature was not unlike -Tom-Tom in its essential lines. No wonder he was angry! Before I could -get a photograph of the spot, however, Tom-Tom had clawed it out of -existence. Nothing remained but to soothe his ruffled feelings, which I -did with a fresh Fish newly caught from the lake. - -During the day, I meditated upon my nocturnal visitor. Evidently he had -drawn the Cat in the sand as a warning to others of his kind, as some -specimens of the genus _homo_ mark gate-posts. That night I made the -sand smooth before retiring, and in the morning I looked anxiously for -further messages, but there was nothing there. A charm had evidently -been set against my cabin door. - -I began to consider getting rid of Tom-Tom, feeling sure that the Mice -would know it if I did so, but after long study, I concluded that it was -better to keep my faithful companion than to wait in loneliness for -problematical visitors. - -The health-giving weeks passed by, and I gained in strength each day. -When I went there, I was so weak that I could not have spanked a baby, -but I soon felt equal to discharging a cook. - -Frequently I went far away from the cabin, in the search for food and -firewood, leaving Tom-Tom at home to keep house. The intelligent animal -missed me greatly, but seldom offered to go along, his padded feet not -being suited to the long overland journeys. I made him some chamois-skin -boots out of some of the Natural History Shams I found in print, and, -for a few times, he gallantly accompanied me, but it soon became evident -that he preferred to stay at home and bear his loneliness, rather than -to face dangers that he knew not of. - -When I returned from my hunting trips with a string of Fish, a load of -wood, a basket of Quail on toast, or some other woodland delicacy, -Tom-Tom, who was watching from the roof of the cabin, would sight me -from afar off, and after putting on his boots to protect his tender -feet, would come to meet me by leaps and bounds, purring like a -locomotive under full steam. Words cannot describe my joy at this -hospitable greeting, and I made up my mind that I would love and cherish -Tom-Tom, even though I never saw a Mouse again. - -However, as we became accustomed to our new home, Tom-Tom regained some -part of his former courage, and at times would wander quite a distance -from the cabin. His method was really very original and deserves -recording, as I have not since found it in any book on Natural History. -At the time, I marked it among my own observations, appropriately -enough, with a maltese cross. - -With the long, prolonged howl which meant farewell, Tom-Tom plunged into -the depths of the forest, stopping at the first tree to sharpen his -claws. Suspecting that he was in search of game for our Sunday dinner, I -followed him cautiously at a respectful interval. Strangely enough, I -found that the trees leading to the left, for a long way into the wood, -were scarred with Tom-Tom’s claws. It was some time before the -significance of this burst upon me. He was blazing his trail through the -woods that he might not get lost coming home. - -As time went on, these absences became more frequent, and once he even -stayed out all night. In the morning the delicate tracery was again seen -in the sand around my cabin door, only this time there was no picture of -a Cat. - -While I was engaged with my household tasks, I felt myself observed. -Turning, I saw upon my door-sill a little white-throated Field Mouse, -sitting upright, and waving a friendly paw at me in salutation. It was -Little Upsidaisi! I always called him that, thinking the Indian name -much more musical than our own. - -As soon as he saw me looking at him, he hurried away, but the memory of -the hunted look in his bright eyes haunted me for many a day. - -I saw very little of Tom-Tom now. For days together he would remain away -from home, and I was lonely indeed. Late one afternoon, as I returned -from my hunting trip, I saw a picture of a Cat newly drawn in the sand, -and after it, very distinctly, was placed a large interrogation point. - -Fully understanding the work of that wonderful tail, I took the point of -my umbrella and printed in large letters, “NO,” underlining it to make -it more emphatic. After that, Upsidaisi came every day, selecting such -times as the Cat was out. He seemed to feel that he had a friend and -protector in me. - -Before many weeks had passed, Upsidaisi had become more bold. He -practically lived in the cabin, and took refuge in my sleeve or trouser -leg upon approach of the Cat. Tom-Tom, engrossed with affairs of his -own, seemed unconscious of his rival’s presence, and this was well, for -Upsidaisi was faithful and Tom-Tom was not. - -How well I remember the day when Tom-Tom came in suddenly, and saw -Upsidaisi sitting on the edge of my plate, helping himself daintily to -fried bacon with a straw from the broom neatly slit at one end! There -was a low growl from the Cat and a snort of terror from Upsidaisi as he -ran down my neck for safety. I wore larger collars in those days, that -the panics of my little friend might not cause a stricture in my -œsophagus. - -After that, it was war to the knife, as I too well understood, and I -could only tremble and wait for the end. Both of my pets were aflame -with jealousy, and there could be but one result. The end of a wild -animal is always a tragedy. - -One day, when Little Upsidaisi was asleep in my hat, I followed -Tom-Tom’s trail into the woods, paying close attention to the marks upon -the trees. Far away, so far away that I no longer wondered how the Cat -had worn out eight separate and distinct boots in as many weeks, I came -upon a nest at the foot of a pine tree, in the hollow formed by the -outspreading roots, and lined with the fragrant pine needles. - -A large, matronly, black and white Cat sat proudly on the nest, brooding -over her young. She trembled at my approach, but did not seek safety in -flight. With a few kind words I lifted her, and discovered six squalling -little ones under her. One black, yellow, and white egg was not yet -hatched, but I could see that very soon a little tortoise-shell kitten -would claim her maternal care. - -So this was the explanation of Tom-Tom’s defection! Where he had found -his mate, I did not know. Close by was a square of red blanket, which -had been mysteriously cut out of my bed covering, and my best tin cup, -freshly filled with cream, was within the mother’s easy reach. One of -Tom-Tom’s worn-out shoes, at a little distance from the nest, completed -the evidence. - -I took pains, after this, to scatter desirable food and clothing for -mother and children along Tom-Tom’s ghostly trail. The next day these -were always missing, and Tom-Tom seemed grateful in his dumb way, though -he presumed too far upon my sympathies and took to petty larceny. - -For instance, I had a little black box, with a hinged cover, upon my -table. I kept in it pens, postage stamps, and other small implements of -the writer’s craft. One day I found my pens neatly piled upon my table -and the stamps blowing about the cabin. Upon searching for the box, I -found it, carefully placed at the foot of a tree, and freshly filled -with catnip. Upon the cover were scratched these words: “Magdalene -Tom-Tom, from her devoted Cat-band.” I inferred from this that the -tortoise-shell egg had hatched and that the seven youngsters were all -lively. I meditated reclaiming my property, but after thinking it over, -concluded to let the incident pass without comment. It might be in -celebration of some sentimental anniversary, and Tom-Tom’s peace of mind -might be at stake; but I took the precaution to lock up everything else -which I wished to keep. - -Upon the shelf in the cabin was a cigar box where Little Upsidaisi -slept. I had made a very soft nest for him with some returned -manuscripts, and endeavoured to keep food and drink in one corner of it. -Thus, at any hour of the day or night, he might be safe from the Cat and -well provided for. - -After a little, as the trying duties of paternity relaxed, Tom-Tom, thin -and pale as he was, took to spending a part of his evenings at home, and -I trembled lest his acute senses should lead him to the cigar box. It -was tightly closed, except for the little opening gnawed just below the -cover, which made sort of a slot for Little Upsidaisi’s tail and kept it -from being pinched when he got into the box. - -Still, things went on smoothly, and Tom-Tom claimed his old place in my -affections, ignorant of the fact that his rival slept in the cigar box -above. There was a period of three days, once, when Tom-Tom did not -leave the cabin, and I did not go out either, as I thought it safer to -remain. There was no telling what might happen in my absence. - -At the end of the third day, I sat at my little table, recording various -valuable observations in my ledger, when suddenly a terrible thought -struck me. I had forgotten to feed Little Upsidaisi! - -I dared not make any attempt at it while Tom-Tom was watching me, and -though I tried more than once, I could not decoy him out of the cabin. I -wondered what had become of my little pet, and feared to find him -stretched out stark and stiff upon the returned manuscripts. My heart -reproached me bitterly. - -Strangely enough, I was recording in my journal at that instant the fact -that the Field Mice seemed to have no method of communication with the -outside world, except the picture language made with the sharpened tip -of the tail. While I was considering what to do, and whether or not to -use force and temporarily eject Tom-Tom, a faint, far-away tapping -assailed my ears, which my anxious mind soon traced to the cigar box -upon the shelf. - -At the succession of taps, my hair stood up in astonishment and I rose -to my feet with such violence that Tom-Tom was frightened. _Little -Upsidaisi was attempting to communicate with me by means of the Morse -code!_ - -I am well aware that this will not be believed by the reader, but I can -only set down my own observations and trust to later explorations to -substantiate my claims. - -Tap-tap-tap, the ghostly message came, and, trembling with excitement -though I was, I managed to make out the words: - -“What do you take me for? Do you want to starve me to death? Can’t you -get rid of that blanked Cat?” Courtesy to my readers compels me to use -the word “blanked” in place of the profane adjective Little Upsidaisi -applied to Tom-Tom. - -A desperate expedient possessed me. After tapping out a few words for -Upsidaisi’s comfort, I made a low Kitten cry, such as used to perplex my -teacher in my younger days. With every sense instantly alert, Tom-Tom -erected his tail and started off down the trail like a blue streak. - -I supplied the exhausted Mouse with food and drink, and bade him be -patient until the following day, using the form of speech which he so -readily understood. - -Tom-Tom soon returned with the air of a fire engine which has just -chased up a false alarm. He watched me very closely, and the following -day, as I tapped out a message of hope to Upsidaisi, I noted a gleam of -intelligence in Tom-Tom’s green eyes. I began to wonder, but I had no -time to frame a definite thought, for, with a prolonged meow, Tom-Tom -scratched on the floor vigorously, and my accustomed ears soon made out, -through the bewildering succession of dots and dashes, another message -in the Morse code. - -“Where is that blamed Mouse?” it said. “My Kittens are about to be -weaned and require solid food.” - -There was a terrible cry of pain from the shelf, and before I could -protest or interfere in any way, Little Upsidaisi was out of the cabin, -running like mad, with Tom-Tom in full pursuit. - -Instinctively, I followed them—through the dense undergrowth, over open -fields, through barbed wire fences, along unblazed forest trails, and so -on, with Upsidaisi always several lengths in the lead. - -Even if I would, I could not interfere, and I had long since learned -that it is the truest kindness to let the animals fight it out among -themselves, since the fittest must survive and the weakest be crushed to -the wall. - -Now and then I heard a sob from the grass, where the Mouse was running -in deathly fear, and deep, harsh breathings from Tom-Tom, who was now -gaining his second wind and plunging ever closer to his hapless victim. -A little ahead was the railroad track, which much surprised me. I had -been so interested that I had kept no account of the distance and it -came to me with something of a shock that we had run over ten miles. - -On went the mad struggle for life. There was a whistle near by, and I -knew the express was coming. Upsidaisi was nowhere in sight, and Tom-Tom -was nosing through the long grass eagerly. Then there was a little -glimmer of white and silver in the sun, and Upsidaisi flew across the -track just as the express rounded the curve. Tom-Tom followed, heedless -of his danger, and the cow-catcher, striking his tense body, threw him -so far up into the air that the corpse has not yet been recovered. - -I stood aghast at the fiendish cleverness of it. Little Upsidaisi had -decoyed his enemy to the track, at the very moment the express was to -pass! - -Scarcely conscious of what I did, I picked up the exhausted Mouse and -walked home in a brown study. My soul was torn with grief at the loss of -my pet, but the new facts in Natural History that I had learned were -worth some sacrifice. - -As I sat at my table, writing in my journal, I heard a low, mournful -sound from the shelf and then the words, tapped out in the Morse code: -“Forgive me; I had to do it.” - -[Illustration: “Instinctively, I followed them.”] - -I foolishly paid no attention, but went on writing down the noble ideas -that surged hotly through my brain. Later on—I shall never know how much -later—I heard the dull sound of a falling body, and the pungent odour of -cyanide of potassium filled the room. The bottle of it which I kept on -the shelf to attract butterflies had been opened and drained to the -dregs. - -Close by it, with the glaze of death over his bright eyes, lay -Upsidaisi. Heart-broken by my coldness, the little Mouse had committed -suicide. - - * * * * * - -Little feet, little feet, shall I see your delicate tracery no more -around the door of my cabin in the wilderness? The end of a wild animal -is always a tragedy. - -[Illustration: cat drawing] - - - - - JAGG, THE SKOOTAWAY GOAT - - -After the tragical deaths of Tom-Tom and Upsidaisi, my life was -strangely lonely. No one who has not experienced it can realise the -subtle, almost spiritual attachment which may exist between man and his -kindred of the wild. The Squirrels barked at each other, but there was -no bark for me except on the oak tree at my cabin door. The little Birds -sang, but not for me. Whenever I approached a thicket where the woodland -chorus was in rehearsal, trying to learn the Bird-calls which are -printed in the books, there was a spontaneous silence which seemed to -possess a positive rather than a negative quality. - -I felt like a marked man. In my fevered fancy I could hear the wood -creatures saying to one another: “There goes the man who lived with -Little Upsidaisi. By the way, have you seen Upsidaisi lately? What a -brute the man looks, to be sure! Come, let us skip, while we have the -time.” - -So it was that I seemed to be the centre of an ever-widening circle of -departure. Feet pattered away from me in a continual diminuendo, dying -at last into that mournful, unchanging silence which encompassed me like -a blanket of gloom. - -It is not my intention to depress the reader, but the scientific -observer must make accurate records, and my mental state at the time may -have been partially responsible for what followed. - -Regularly, I took my walk of fourteen miles into town. At first I had -contented myself with weekly visits to the post-office, but as the -returned manuscripts augmented, I went every morning and took my simple -breakfast at a restaurant. For some occult reason, I have never been -able to make coffee even remotely resembling that customarily prepared -by my immediate ancestor on the feminine side. - -The long, business-like envelopes which I received every morning -contributed largely to my local importance, and the gossip of the place -buzzed eternally about my head. According to some, I was an insurance -agent. Others admitted me to the bar without examination, and a certain -keen observer, well up in the guileful ways of commerce, thought I had -paid two dollars to get my name on somebody’s “list,” thereby being -guaranteed “lots of mail.” - -Fortunately, no hint of my true calling escaped, and the rejection -blanks continued to accumulate. I have preserved these with the idea of -incorporating them in a psychological treatise on _The Gentle Art of -Turning Down_, which will be printed as soon as I get a publisher for -the noble, epoch-making volume upon which I am at present engaged. - -I had learned that editors were variable, and were not always what they -seemed. A rejection was merely an indication of the man’s mood at the -time he got my piece, and I have, more than once, sold the same thing to -him later for a goodly sum. I offer no explanation of this, as my field -is limited to animal, rather than human observations, and the Labour -Union to which I belong is very strict in such matters. I may be -permitted to add, however, that one editor, to whom I sent a mental -fledgling for the second or third time, wrote me a personal letter in -which he said that he was no more of a fool now than he was three months -ago. I do not know what he could have meant by the statement, but I -record it in the hope that someone else may. - -For a long period there had been nothing in my note-book but maltese -crosses and items pertaining to the weather and to my daily tasks. One -morning it rained so hard that I was obliged to postpone my walk to town -until afternoon. I made the journey in the usual time, secured the -customary number of returned manuscripts, and bought stamps to send them -out again. I thought, as I turned away, that the pursuit of literature -was little more than sending out manuscripts to get money to buy stamps -to send out manuscripts to get money to buy stamps to send out -manuscripts to get money to buy stamps to—but I forbear. My meditations -ran on like this for three pages or more, and the end was like the -beginning, so what’s the use? - -As I approached the station, I saw several of my fellow-townsmen headed -for the north-east. They had a determined, yet pleasantly excited air -which interested me, and I went back to make inquiries of the -postmaster. - -“Where are they going?” I asked. - -“Hey?” - -“I asked where they were going.” - -“Who?” - -I inclined my head toward the company on the far horizon. I could not -incline it much, for it was heavy, being full of books. - -“Oh,” said the postmaster. “Them. Over to Porcupine Hill.” - -“Porcupine Hill!” I repeated in astonishment. “Where is it?” - -“Follow your nose,” he replied, somewhat brusquely, slamming down the -window in a way which indicated that the interview was ended. - -My pulses throbbed with new joy, for here, at last, was a diversion. I -lost no time in following my nose, first taking the precaution to point -that useful organ in a bee-line with the disappearing company. -Ultimately I joined them, to their surprise if not their pleasure. - -“We’re late,” said one of them. “The show’s just beginning.” - -I quickened my steps to a run, and was presently brought up with a round -turn against a rope stretched across the foot of the hill. Several -strange-looking balls were rolling from the crest toward us, and a man -with a note-book was registering bets, all of which, however, were in -small coin. - -“What is it?” I inquired in a loud, clear voice which commanded instant -attention. - -“Porcupines,” answered a courteous gentleman in blue overalls, a hickory -shirt, and one suspender. “Every afternoon at two, when it ain’t -raining, they roll down that there hill.” - -“You be n’t a detective, be you?” asked an agitated voice at my elbow. -It was the postmaster. - -“I am not,” I returned, with freezing dignity. - -“All right,” continued the postmaster. “Here, bookie, ten to one on -Salina Ann. Salina’s a high roller,” he explained, turning to me, “but -she ain’t in this race.” - -The Porcupines came in at our feet, a huge dark one rolling under the -wire three lengths ahead. Dizzy, exhausted, and panting, he sat up -straight for a moment, launched a playful quill at the bookmaker, and -shambled off around the hillside. - -Upon the crest of a distant hill, a single figure sat in monumental -silence. It had two points at the top, and I wondered what it might be. -At last I concluded that it was a rock. - -Throughout the long, sunny afternoon, I watched the interesting pastime -with keen enjoyment. Had not my exchequer been so pitifully low, I -should have staked a dime or so myself upon Salina Ann. She won three -races in succession and finally retired, giddy, but triumphant. - -When the last race was over, as much as four dollars had changed hands, -and there were loud protests against the system of bookmaking employed. -As an outsider, I was appealed to, but I declined to interfere, and, -remembering the long fourteen-mile walk which lay between me and my -cabin, I loosened up for the home stretch, noting, as I started, that -the peculiar, pointed rock had disappeared from the opposite hill. - -During the ninth mile from the Porcupine track, I was acutely conscious -of observation. Little Brothers of the Woods can always feel the bright -eyes that are turned upon them from the thickets. I paused several -times, but heard nothing and saw nothing, though I put on my glasses and -thus gained a sort of second sight. - -Afterward, I meditated. Perhaps the ban upon me had been removed and the -forest folk no longer feared to look at me. I made one maltese cross in -my note-book, drawing a red circle about it to indicate possibilities, -and entered a full account of the Porcupine race, which so far, -according to my knowledge, has been described by only one other writer. - -My sleep was more nearly normal that night than it had been since the -lamentable occurrences chronicled in the previous chapter. - -For a time, my life was as usual. I arose in the morning, just before -sunrise, and took a cold bath in the lake. Then I built a fire and made -coffee. I had postponed my trips to town until afternoon in order to -attend the Porcupine races, and this condemned me to drink my own -coffee, but many sacrifices must be made by the earnest student. I would -wash the dishes, swishing them back and forth in the lake, sweep and -dust the cabin, and, by nine o’clock, be ready to devote myself to -literature. - -I worked until twelve, when I prepared luncheon, cleared up again, cut -wood if I needed it, and started for town. I had timed myself and -learned that it took me just forty minutes to walk the fourteen miles. I -thus had ample time to go to the post-office, and usually reached -Porcupine Hill a few minutes before the entertainment began. - -It must have been two weeks later that, in the same section of the -homeward trail, I again felt myself keenly observed. It was disquieting, -more especially as I beat about among the bushes for a long time without -finding anything. I meditated that night in two separate meditations of -one hour each, but came to no conclusions. - -By the pitiless light of high noon and the baldly truthful report of my -grandmother’s cracked mirror, opportunely left in the cabin, I -discovered that I was moulting at the top, and cast about for some means -to remedy the condition, not caring to be a front row observer at the -noble drama of Unnatural History. While in town that day, I purchased a -small flask of whiskey, as I had seen in the beauty columns, more than -once, that it was a good hair tonic, but I did not know whether to apply -it internally or externally. - -I attended the Porcupine race that afternoon, and lost forty-three cents -on Salina Ann, who flunked miserably every time. Much depressed, I -started homeward, just at sunset, and, in a quiet place, I attempted to -improve my spirits by taking a teaspoonful of the hair tonic. I learned -immediately that the remedy was not meant to be used internally, and I -did not doubt that external application would produce a crop of tresses -which might well be the envy of a professional musician. - -A little nearer my cabin than before, I was once more conscious of the -fact that I was not alone. Somewhat excited, I crept into the thicket -and swung my knapsack about violently. I distinctly detected a strange -odour, which was like nothing else on earth, but otherwise all was as -usual except for an inexplicable breeze blowing directly against the -wind. - -Fancy an Indian blanket, of Angora wool, which has been used by three -tribes indiscriminately, year in and year out, in sickness and in -health, hanging on a clothes line with a high wind blowing. Let the wind -be blowing from the east and the scientific observer be standing just -west of the blanket. It will give you a faint idea of what I met in the -thicket, though at the time I wrongly attributed it to the -misapplication of the hair tonic. - -On reaching my cabin I discovered that the flask had dropped out of my -knapsack when I swung it through the undergrowth, but, rather than go -back, I determined to spend another fifty cents the next day, provided -that I could do so without drawing upon myself unjust suspicion. - -The next day—ah, with what emotion I write those words! How little do we -dream, as we close our eyes in peaceful slumber, what the next day may -bring forth! Careless, happy, even whistling as was my wont, I performed -my simple household tasks, rejoicing in the fragrant morning air, the -cheery chatter of the Squirrels, and the progress of the pan of bread I -was baking over my open fire. - -From the woods at the left came a brisk breeze. Someone seemed to be -airing a blanket such as I have described above. Before I had time to -investigate, a huge white ball rolled toward me, with no visible means -of propulsion. There was no incline and the speed of it was tremendous. -Deep, pointed excavations marked the trail over which it came, and my -hair was raised far beyond the potential power of the lost tonic. So -swiftly that I was breathless with wonder, the thing rolled into my -fire. - -Then there was a shrill cry of pain, but the momentum was too great, and -it went straight on through, stopping on the other side of my woodland -hearthstone, singed, and apparently dead. Trembling with excitement, I -made my way toward it, but before I could offer my sympathetic -assistance, it had assorted itself and was standing up on four singed -and shaky legs. - -It was Jagg. - -How a Goat had penetrated that fastness, where the hands of few white -men had ever trod, was beyond me, but it was a condition and not a -theory which confronted me. Here, at my hospitable door, so lately made -desolate by the departure of Tom-Tom and Little Upsidaisi, was a new and -wonderful creature. The singeing had overpowered the Indian blanket -_motif_ and made way for the softer notes of the hair tonic. Jagg was -plainly intoxicated, and immediately upon my recognition of it, I named -him. - -His suffering was pathetic. The burns were merely superficial, but he -was very much soiled, and his head was swollen far beyond its normal -limits. His tongue, which he promptly offered for my inspection, was -dark brown and fuzzy. He sat down, stroked his brow wearily with one of -his four feet (fore, if you prefer), and stuttered out an hysterical -bleat. - -My friends in the telegraph office used to characterise me occasionally -as a Goat, and I am not prepared to admit that there is not something in -the theory of reincarnation, for at that moment a great pity dominated -me. - -“Jagg, old man,” I said, tenderly, “you have misjudged your capacity and -you are full. Come.” - -He followed me into the cabin, eager, yet shamefaced, and I lifted him -to my bed. I anointed his burns with carron oil and tied a cold wet -bandage over his temples. He was only an ordinary Goat, with the -customary tuft of spinach in the maxillary region, now badly singed, but -there was something very human in the grateful look he gave me just -before closing his eyes for twenty-one hours of sodden sleep. - -I rolled up in an extra blanket that night and slept on the floor of the -cabin, rather than disturb Jagg. We might have slept together without -violating any of the precepts of _The Ladies’ Own_, for, even in high -circles, people often sleep with Kids, but my natural instincts were -against it and I let Jagg have the bed. - -In the morning, I closely scrutinised the ground over which my -butter-ball had come. At regular intervals were the deep, pointed -excavations before referred to, and I surmised that they had been made -by his horns. In them I appropriately planted goatsrue. My grandmother -had left some seeds of this herb on the shelf in the cabin, and I had -been intending to plant them for some time. - -I followed the trail into the woods until I came to the thicket where I -had felt myself observed. The empty flask lay on the ground and -corroborated my suspicions. The branches were broken down all through -the shrubbery, and the bare earth was thick with tiny hoof-marks in -prints of two and three which were strangely suggestive of a waltz. - -When I went back, Jagg came out of the cabin, very pale and repentant, -blinking sleepily and wagging his insignificant tail. I spoke a few kind -words to him and we breakfasted together. - -In less than a week he had recovered his spirits, and his devotion to me -was really extraordinary. He followed me like an unpaid bill and never -took his eyes away from me except to sleep. At night he lay like a dog -in my cabin door, whither he had dragged his bed, and usually waked me -by prodding me playfully, in some sensitive spot, with the sharp tip of -one of his horns. - -[Illustration: - - “There was something very human in the grateful look he gave me just - before closing his eyes.”] - -There was something mysterious in his eyes. They were fairly human in -their expressiveness, and his intelligence was also of that high order -which Man proudly claims as his own. I discovered it accidentally. - -Most hermits, I find, are wont to relieve their solitude by declaiming -poetry, and I was no exception to the rule. I knew all of _Thanatopsis_ -and most of _The Ancient Mariner_. When I recited these, Jagg always -listened with an air of polite interest. One morning, however, as I -built my fire, I chanced to repeat Cowper’s beautiful lines beginning: -“O for a lodge in some vast wilderness!” - -Immediately my attention was attracted by Jagg. He tore about madly, -giving every evidence of joy, bleating loudly, and furiously wagging his -stub of a tail. He stood on his head, rising at once to the -perpendicular, then as swiftly reversed. Something happened then which I -could not explain, and I rubbed my eyes in wonder. A moment before he -had been there and now he was nowhere in sight. I never learned how he -did it, for he moved too rapidly for the eye to follow, but, according -to my theory, he put his four feet together and with a single powerful -muscular effort shot himself into space, alighting perhaps a quarter of -a mile distant, and returning when he pleased. This gave him his -sub-title in my records: “The Skootaway Goat.” - -At first I was overjoyed to have the faithful animal with me, but, by -insensible degrees, his companionship began to pall. He went with me -once to the Porcupine race, but speedily made both of us unpopular. -Again, I locked him into the cabin, but no sooner had I returned than I -regretted it. He ate one of my note-books and thereby many priceless -observations are lost to the world. - -I bought a rope and tied him to a tree, but he joined me at Porcupine -Hill with evident satisfaction at the reunion. I got a long chain from -the village and this foiled him only once. He filed it apart with tooth -and horn and acquired so insatiable an appetite for cold metal that he -even hunted my pockets at night for coins. Canned goods were eaten, tin -and all, as soon as I brought them home. I began to perceive, dimly, -that I must part with Jagg, and ultimately regarded the notion as a -relief measure passed by an overwhelming majority. - -Yet ways and means were lacking, and also, possibly, the initiative. He -had grown into a very handsome animal by this time, and I was so -accustomed to him that the woods had an unfriendly, alien smell when I -fared forth alone. I had given up the thought of tying him, and he -usually went with me, quite as a matter of course. - -At the post-office one morning, I received a letter from my lawyers, -stating that I had fallen heir to another ancestral estate about one -hundred miles south of my present habitation. My grandfather on my -mother’s side had just been reaped, and this testimonial of his -affection was left to me. I folded the letter idly and stood for some -moments, lost in deep thought. Jagg snatched it out of my hand and ate -it, but not before I had made myself master of its contents. Later on, I -was thankful for the ponderous verbiage with which the idea was -practically swamped, though, as it happened, the obscurity was useless, -the legal description of the property being appended. - -Jagg ruminated for some time upon the letter, but experienced no -personal discomfort. He was very intelligent and doubtless believed, -with the great Macaulay, that “a page digested is better than a book -hurriedly read.” - -Still we lived together—that is, Jagg lived, and I existed. The sight of -him, through constant attrition, became an annoyance, and finally an -irritation. He ate my clothes, tore all the love scenes out of my small -but choice library of fiction, and took my article on Natural History -Shams to ornament the head of his bed. - -Before long I discovered an infallible method of communicating with him. -I would write my remarks on a small slip of paper, in my fine Italian -hand, and feed the paper to Jagg. As soon as it was assimilated into his -system, he understood, but his answers were limited. He could shake his -head when he meant “no” and nod when he meant “yes.” A bleat, of -indescribable tonality, meant that he was unfamiliar with the topic, or -else prevented by his personal handicap from making any sort of an -explanation. - -For instance, one fine morning, just at sunrise, I wrote: “Jagg, I am -going to the village this afternoon. Will you be a nice Goatie and stay -at home?” - -At nine o’clock, he grasped my meaning. Coming close to my knee he -looked up into my face with an expression of adoring love, and sadly but -firmly shook his head. I never knew him to lie, and at noon, when I -started, Jagg rioted along beside me. - -In town, by this time, they had decided that I was an editor on my -Summer vacation, and they used to call us “The Two Bocks.” For some -reason, this irritated me to such an extent that I was ready to lay out -Jagg on his last bier, but I forebore to pull the trigger through a -lingering belief in re-incarnation. Suppose Jagg were my grandmother, or -some other distinguished ancestor? Moreover, I knew, through the subtle -workings of some sixth sense, that I could not lose him before his time. - -It happened that the county authorities stopped the Porcupine races by -building barriers of chicken-coop netting here and there across the -hill, and the inhabitants of the village, to a man, blamed me for it. I -protested my innocence, but I was an outsider and my efforts were -futile. The gambling laws are rightfully stringent, but Lambs gambol, so -why not Porcupines? - -“’Tain’t no use o’ lyin’ about it,” said the postmaster, shifting his -quid, “you’ve had it in fer us ever since Salina Ann lost you that there -forty-three cents. It was a day for the mud-larks and was heavy goin’, -and you should have known better than to bet on her, but you seemed to -have a hunch. It’s a gent’s sport, partook of by gents, and you’d orter -be able to take defeat like a gent, or else,” he added, with bitter -emphasis, “git!” - -Two days later, a boycott was proclaimed against me. I could buy nothing -in the village except postage stamps, and I must either move or starve. - -My heart was heavy, then I thought of my new possessions and the cloud -lifted. My medical adviser had chased me out of town until September -first, so I still had a month to live outdoors. I would go, I -decided—and I would lose Jagg. I did not doubt his ability to get his -living—he had got mine, whenever I had brought canned goods home. - -I wrote out one morning: “Jagg, I am going to clean house,” and fed him -the slip. An hour or so later he came to me and nodded intelligently, -but I could see the lingering sadness upon his visage and, for the first -time, it struck me that Jagg might once have been married. - -Under this safe disguise, I packed my things and swept out the cabin -with a broom and a pail of water. Jagg watched me intently, and I saw -that I would have to deceive him if I escaped. I pondered long after I -had resolved myself into a committee of ways and means, but my bright -ideas were all packed away with moth balls on the high shelf of my mind -until such time as I could get to my typewriter and begin anew the -bombardment of the magazines. - -That night we sat in darkness, for Jagg had made a light luncheon of the -only remaining candle, but I was patient and bided my time, knowing that -on the morrow I would give him the last slip. - -In the morning I began to scrub the cabin vigorously. When I went after -another cake of soap, I saw that there was nothing left but a piece of -the wrapper about the size of a curl paper, and, since I have the usual -masculine aversion to curl papers and wrappers, I gave an exclamation of -horror. - -Jagg’s guilty face betrayed him, and I hastened to my table. “If you ate -that soap,” I wrote, “you will have to stay here while I go to town for -more. If you ate it, nod, and if you are willing to stay, nod. It will -be better for you if you decide to stay.” These last words I underlined -with red ink to give them a sinister significance. - -After assimilation, Jagg came to me and nodded twice. He was evidently -sincere in his repentance, so I took my suit case, and my note-books, -and set out for the station with a light heart. He sat in the door of -the cabin, watching me wistfully, and the old, familiar, Indian-blanket -odour sensibly decreased as I progressed. - -When I boarded the train, he was nowhere in sight, and my pulses -throbbed with exultation. Freedom at last, after weeks of Jagg! It was -too good to believe. - -I found my new cabin occupied by a morose, hickory-shirted individual -christened “Abadiah,” but known simply as “Ab.” He refused to believe -that I was the rightful owner of the place, and I had no way of proving -it, as my evidence had been eaten. He said he’d just “squat” round there -until he saw a written order to move out, and I made the best of a bad -bargain. There were two cots in the cabin, so I did not mind -particularly, and it was not altogether unpleasant to have someone of my -own species with me after my long isolation. - -Weary, but foolishly light-hearted, I went to sleep. When I awoke, I had -the same old uneasy feeling of being watched, and, rubbing my eyes, I -saw, sitting on the foot of my cot—who should it be but Jagg, chewing -the cud of reflection? - -An old silk hat was wedged tightly over his horns, there was a baleful -gleam of mockery in his singularly human eyes, and around his neck was -tied an ordinary express tag, which was inscribed, simply: “Please pass -the Butter.” Where he had obtained it, I do not know, but he had -evidently taken the next train. - -When Ab woke up, he viewed the new arrival with disfavour, which was -promptly reciprocated by said arrival. - -“Likely lookin’ animile,” grunted Ab. “Whose is it?” - -“It seems to be ours,” I answered, with a hollow laugh. - -“Smells like thunder, don’t it?” asked Ab. - -Jagg bleated five times in rapid succession and plunged out into the -fresh air, then turned toward the spring where we got our drinking water -and took off the brakes. Before any one could prevent him, he had taken -a bath in the spring and emerged dripping wet, with his hat still on. - -Ab’s disgust knew no bounds. “Bilin’ the water won’t help it none now,” -he said. “Reckon we’ll have to drink bug juice.” He drew a flask from -his pocket and took a long draught, smacking his lips with evident -enjoyment. - -Here Jagg did his Skootaway stunt, and Ab blinked. There was not even a -glimmer of white in the air—one merely had the impression that something -had gone by. - -“Say, pardner,” said Ab, brokenly, “tell me the truth. Have I got ’em, -or was there a Goat with a plug hat on settin’ here a minute ago?” - -“The Goat and the hat were both here,” I assured him, and he sighed in -relief. “I suppose,” he continued, meditatively, “that we both orter -take the pledge.” - -Jagg returned in time for breakfast and sat opposite us. The dislike -between him and Ab speedily ripened into hate, and I could see that a -catastrophe was due before long, but I made no allusion to it. - -“What be you goin’ to call the beast?” asked Ab. - -“Haven’t thought about it,” I returned, shortly. - -“I suppose he wouldn’t need to be called,” remarked Ab. “He seems to be -here most of the time.” - -I smiled as pleasantly as could be expected under the circumstances, and -Ab went on with his part of the sketch. “Too bad he ain’t a Sheep.” - -“Why?” I asked, seeing that he was waiting for the question. - -“Had a fool friend once,” observed Ab, “with one of them high-toned -stock farms. He had one cussed old Sheep of some fancy breed that he -paid five thousand dollars for. The boys used to call him Hi-ram.” - -I made no answer, being busy with the dishes, and Ab retreated into the -shrubbery. “Say,” he yelled, from a respectful distance, “be you -English?” - -My blood burned to be at him, but I did not wish to quarrel with the -only human being for miles around, nor to lower myself to the level of -my kindred of the wild, who fight it out with claw and tooth and fang. -Jagg, who was sitting near me, snorted loudly with anger and the hair on -the back of his neck bristled. - -He came to me, and by repeated significant gestures made me understand -that he wished me to remove his hat. I did so, but with difficulty. - -When Ab appeared at dinner time, Jagg took no apparent notice of him. -The kettle was singing cheerily and the delicious scent of the frying -bacon was abroad in the landscape. “Ab,” I called, “get some more sticks -and put them on the fire.” - -He bent over the cheerful flame and replenished the blaze with an armful -of chips which he had found in the woods. Jagg was not a part of the -domestic scene and I did not know where he was, but I heard a loud -imprecation, saw Ab careening madly in midair, and fancied that I saw a -glimmer of white just over the shrubbery. - -My quick, active mind at once inferred that I should have to add Ab’s -biography to my great work: _The Lives of the Bunted_. - -Nothing was said, and on the surface, at least, all things were as -usual, but I saw the red gleam of implacable hate in the faces of my two -companions, and dreaded the deadly combat which must soon take place. - -For a week or more there was comparative peace, then, one morning when I -opened my cabin door to admit the fresh air of dawn, I saw a pathetic -sight. On my threshold, faithful to the last, was Jagg, stark and stiff -and cold in death. - -He lay flat on his back, his eyes wide open, and his feet were at right -angles to his body. The _rigor mortis_ had already set in to such an -extent that I felt as if I had struck a picket fence when I endeavoured -to pass. It was characteristic of him, perhaps, that he could not even -die without arranging some kind of a trap for me to fall into. I was -obliged to move him before I could get outdoors, and the undertaking -proved unusually difficult. - -I gave him a decent burial, and painted him a headstone, but I never saw -Ab again. The Goat’s body was bloated in a way which led me to suspect -poison, and, as time goes on, my suspicion becomes stronger, for the end -of a wild animal is always a tragedy, and Jagg was unquestionably wild. - - - - - SNOOF - - -I passed the remaining weeks of my exile in hermit-like solitude. I was -not disposed to make further studies in my chosen calling, and time hung -heavily upon my hands. I checked off the days upon my calendar with red -ink, so that I should not become confused and miss the date of my -departure. Having been shipped out of town until September first, to -save my life, I did not intend to sacrifice it by returning on August -thirty-first. “Whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well,”—a -trite copy-book maxim, that, but none the less a true one. - -The English language, vast as it is, can convey no adequate idea of my -longing for civilisation. The rush and roar of city life, the -loud-voiced clangour of commerce, and the fine, inspiring click of my -telegraph instrument would have been music to me. I packed up, ready to -start at one minute after twelve on the night of my release. Happily, -there was a train at a quarter past one, and I could get to town in time -for breakfast. - -From the time of my packing until I set off on the long trail, at one -minute after twelve, by my jewelled repeater, I experienced the -discomfort of those who have moved mentally, but are still clamped, -physically, to the places they have moved from. - -My stern fidelity to truth compels me to record the fact that my arrival -in the city was not as pleasing as I had fancied it would be. The noise -was terrible, and before eating my simple breakfast at a quick-lunch -counter, I was obliged to stuff cotton into my ears. This did not -prevent me from hearing the candid comments made upon my personal -appearance by the pretty waitresses. - -“Uncle Rube, from Hayville,” observed a dashing blonde to her giggling -companion. “Pipe the alfalfa on the jay’s mug,” said another. At this -there were hissing murmurs of: “Sh-h! He’ll hear you!” “Naw,” said the -speaker, “he’s deef. He’s calked his listeners with white fur. Bet his -wife had a hand in it. She don’t want him to bring home no gold bricks -in his carpet-bag.” - -The talk had risen to such a crescendo pitch that passers-by were fain -to take an interest in it, and it seemed to me that it was time to -interfere. - -“Young ladies,” I said, clearing my throat, “I have neither wife nor -carpet-bag. I have calked my listeners, as you concisely put it, to keep -the chatter of green parrots from interfering with my noteworthy -meditations. I am a Scientist—an unchristian Scientist, I may add, and I -shall take pleasure in sending a copy of _The Ladies’ Own_ to this -restaurant for the guidance of the help. Read it carefully, study it, -ponder over its noble precepts, and it will enable you to win the -respect of your employer and his customers.” - -In the midst of a profound silence I walked out, discovering two blocks -farther on that I still held the green check calling for fifteen cents. -I bought two copies of _The Ladies’ Own_ and sent a boy back with them, -thus more than repaying my indebtedness. - -I determined to report at my physician’s office before returning to my -apartments. In the reception-room of his suite, I first caught a glimpse -of myself in a mirror, and was compelled to admit that I looked seedy. -My hair, which had not been cut for over three months, hung down over my -collar in the manner of Buffalo Bill’s, and I had a thirteen weeks’ -growth of undisciplined beard upon my erstwhile smooth countenance. My -linen, also, was questionable. - -Finally, I was admitted, and my medical adviser gasped out something -which sounded like “gosh,” but which doubtless was not, since he is a -perfect gentleman. - -“Dear friend,” I cried, advancing with outstretched hands, “I have come -to thank you for my life!” - -“Don’t mention it,” he returned, modestly. “I assure you, it is nothing -worth speaking of.” - -“When I left you,” I continued, “I was a physical wreck. Behold me now! -I have lived next to the ground and studied the ways of those wonderful -creatures whom, in our arrogant self-esteem, we call the lower animals. -I have had for my friends all the wood folk—Upsidaisi, the Field Mouse, -Unk Munk, the Porcupine, Ka-Ka, the Pole-Cat, Tom-Tom, the _felinis -simpaticus_, Kitchi-Kitchi, the Red Squirrel, Hoop-La, Sing-Sing, -Pitti-Bird, Chee-Wee——” - -Here my medical adviser interrupted me. “Mr. Johnson-Sitdown,” he said, -wearily, “as this is my busy day, it will be a kindness if you will put -the remainder of that into a phonograph and have it sent. The collection -of Chinese laundry checks is doubtless interesting and valuable, but I -am obliged to specialise in my own line. Permit me to give you another -prescription.” - -He rose from his chair, handed me a bit of folded paper, and opened the -door. My Summer in the wilderness had so sharpened my naturally acute -senses, that I instantly perceived my friend’s wish to be alone, and -accordingly, with rare tact, I bowed myself out. How I pitied the man -who could not be a hermit except between patients! Nevertheless, one -must have patience before one can be a hermit. - -At the first drug store I handed in the prescription, and the clerk -returned presently with the remark that they did not keep it. I asked -him where I could find it, and he suggested a barber-shop. - -Outside, I opened the prescription. It read as follows: - - “1 bath, repeat twice daily, - 3 shaves, - 8 hair cuts, - New clothes.” - -I spent the rest of the day and all the money I had left in explicitly -following out the directions of my gifted friend. In the morning I was -back at my desk. - -Throughout the Winter I spent my evenings studying Natural History and -writing out my own experiences for the magazines. A boom was on in this -kind of literature and the supply was not at all equal to the demand, -so, in place of the returned manuscripts, I speedily acquired some sort -of a vogue. Doubtless the reader will remember that I had some pieces, -carefully edited, in _The Ladies’ Own_ and _The Girlie’s Close -Companion_. Meanwhile my income was pleasurably increased, and I shortly -became so independent that I wholly ignored those miserable sheets which -pay “on publication” and publish when they like. I planned to quit work -entirely during the warm months, and this choice morsel of news was -noised about among the literary editors. In more than one paper I read -that “Mr. O. Sitdown-Johnson Johnson-Sitdown, the well-known naturalist, -will spend the Summer in Yellowstone Park, studying the animals of that -region.” Before I left town, I had contracted for the publication of all -the work I could do—and more, too, as it afterward proved. - -That was a great year for Bears, and all through the West they were -unusually abundant. Cattle and sheep were killed on the range, chicken -coops rifled, and provisions stolen from the lumber camps. In fact, the -nuisance became so great that a bounty was put upon Bear pelts in more -than one State and every trail was practically barricaded with traps. - -Indians coming in reported that the woods were vocal with low, mournful -sounds which, in every case, originated at the Bear traps. When a Bear -was caught in a deadfall, his mate, or her mate, as the case might be, -would sit by, holding the poor head in tender arms, and rock back and -forth, moaning, until the men came to remove the body. Considerations of -safety alone would put the bereaved mate to flight. This is the law of -the wilderness—self-preservation first, the old, primeval instinct, -supported by claw and tooth and fang and the swift pace down the trail. - -Other observers have found two instances only of a Bear sitting by the -trap, holding its dead mate in its arms, and moaning. Whether I was more -fortunate or more observing, it is not for me to say, but that year, and -in that locality, the woods were full of it. - -Naturally, with all this material at my disposal, I made up my mind to -study Bears first. I had not been in the Geyser House three minutes -before I was out in the kitchen, making earnest inquiries of the cook -and scullery maids. I learned, to my delight, that Bears came to the -back door every day, and that by sitting on the step, I might see them. -One of the scullery maids suggested to me that I peel the potatoes as I -sat there. It seemed that the odour of this succulent root was very -attractive to Bears, and, in fact, they never came to the back door -except when potatoes were being peeled. - -There were few guests at the Geyser House, as it was comparatively early -in the season, but I studied the register carefully. Upon it, in an -angular hand, I noted the names of “Mrs. Miranda Kirsten,” and “Miss -Miranda Kirsten.” For some reason, these names moved me profoundly, and -I was still thinking of them when I fell asleep. - -In the morning, when I went down to breakfast, a lady and a child were -seated at my table. At once, I knew who they were. The mother ignored -me, but the little girl’s eyes were fastened upon me with tender -interest. While she was engaged in contemplating me, she choked on her -near-food, and doubtless would have strangled had I not with swift -presence of mind gone to the rescue. I grasped the child, reversed her, -and swung her back and forth by the heels until the section of straw -mattress which she had vainly attempted to swallow was dislodged from -the main line of her bronchial system. - -“Dear sir, kind sir,” said the mother, with tears in her eyes, as I put -the thoroughly frightened child into her outstretched arms, “how shall I -ever thank you for preserving my daughter’s life!” - -“Do not mention it,” I replied, in the happy and appropriate words of my -medical adviser; “I assure you, it is nothing worth speaking of.” - -“Sir-r-r-r!” exclaimed the mother, in a freezing tone. - -“I mean, dear Mrs. Kirsten,” I went on, in my best manner, “that I am -accustomed to it. From Maine to San Francisco, every Summer, it has been -my good fortune to save the lives of unnumbered children who have choked -upon near-food.” - -Here the little Miranda slipped out of her mother’s arms and came to me. -“Pitty man,” she said, placing her hand upon mine with tender -confidence. “Baby loves ’oo.” - -That settled it. I was at once restored to the mother’s good graces, and -we chatted pleasantly all through breakfast. - -Immediately afterward, with my camera and my note-books, I went out to -see Bears. I felt, rather than heard the animals, for, as every observer -knows, the soft, padded feet of a Bear make no noise whatever upon the -trail. - -I walked along as carefully as possible, but saw nothing to photograph -until the path turned. There, sitting up on her haunches, not twenty -paces from me, was a large black Bear! - -Her Cub, also upon his haunches, was about a yard and three-eighths -behind her, and I realised that my situation was serious. I had no -weapon—the authorities do not allow weapons of any description to be -carried in the Park, except the pen, which is mightier than the sword, -but no use to anybody in an emergency like mine unless it is a Bear pen. -If I turned and ran, she would doubtless follow me and overtake me long -before I reached the hotel. In fact, I was sure that I never should -reach it, if the Bear followed me. There was nothing left for me to do -but to try the power of the human eye. - -Now, as everyone knows, Bears are near-sighted, and I was almost upon -the animal before she saw me. Then she gave a loud “_S-n-o-o-f!_” and -ran into the depths of the forest, her Cub so hot upon her trail that he -might have stepped on it and torn it. - -So great was my relief that I laughed aloud, but I could not help -wondering what would have happened if the Bear had been more -near-sighted than she was. Nature gives the animals what they most -desire—the silent wing to the Owl, the keen claws to the Panther, and -the soft walk to the Bear. - -I walked about for some little time, but saw no more Bears. I chronicled -the incident in my note-book, immediately, naming the mother “Snoof,” -and the Cub “Snooflet.” I supposed she was one of those who had been -widowed by the traps in the forest outside of the Park limits, but -inquiry at the hotel assured me that both she and her Cub were well -known. I was told, also, that if I wished to see Bears, I must go to the -garbage heap, a mile away from the Geyser House. - -That night, as we sat upon the veranda of the hotel, I regaled Mrs. -Kirsten and the little girl with the story of my morning’s adventure. -The moon was shining brightly, and my fair companion had the immemorial -charm of the widow, with the added witchery of moonlight. Together, the -combination was a powerful one. - -Miranda climbed into my lap and nestled sleepily in the hollow of my -arm. “Tell me,” said Mrs. Kirsten, in a soft, musical voice, “why are -you here?” - -“Because you are,” I responded, gallantly. “Why are you here?” - -“On Miranda’s account,” she said, shortly. She snatched the sleeping -child out of my arms, and in less time than it takes to tell it, she was -gone. - -I waited nearly three hours, but she did not return, so I went off into -the Park a little way to compose my thoughts for the night. In a -clearing, four miles from the hotel, I came upon a strange sight. Snoof -sat on her haunches, with one arm around her Cub. With her free paw, she -was pointing to the heavens, outlining, as I shortly saw, the -constellations of Ursa Major and Ursa Minor for her offspring. -Reverently removing my hat, I tiptoed away. Truly, maternal devotion has -depths far beyond my ken. - -In the night, I saw Snoof and Mrs. Kirsten, Miranda and Snooflet, -waltzing around the garbage heap, and I was overjoyed to wake and -discover that the painful spectacle was merely a fantasy of sleep. - -It must have been two or three days later that I went downstairs very -early in the morning and found Mrs. Kirsten upon the veranda with her -little daughter. She was removing the child’s shoes and stockings, and I -did not make my presence known for fear of embarrassing them both. - -Miranda toddled off, and her mother sat down upon the top step, watching -her with agonised mother-eyes until she was well out of sight. Then a -dry, tearless moan welled up from the depths of her heart. A moment -later, her face was buried in her handkerchief, and she was shaking with -sobs. - -This was too much for me. I am a landlubber when it comes to salt water, -and have never been able to endure a woman’s tears. I hastened out and -put my hand upon her shoulder. - -“Mrs. Kirsten,” I said, very gently, “you are troubled. Let me help -you!” - -“Oh, sir,” she answered, breaking down utterly at the unexpected -sympathy, “you cannot help me—no one can! The most celebrated physicians -and alienists have given up the case.” - -“Dear Mrs. Kirsten, Miranda the First,” I continued, “you can at least -tell me. Two heads are three times as good as one if the extra head is -mine.” To the critical reader this may sound egotistical, but the -situation was tense, and it was no more than the truth. - -“Oh, how can I bear to tell you! I, who have always lived a decent, -respectable life, holding my head as high as my neighbours’ heads, I, to -have this shame, this fear!” - -“Dear Miranda the First,” I pleaded, forgetting all conventional forms, -“tell me! Believe me, I am your friend!” - -“I know it,” she cried, “but it is too terrible! Miranda, my darling -little daughter, my own and only child, is—is—is—is——” - -“Is what?” I demanded, excitedly. - -“A Little Sister to the Woods!” she gasped, then hid her face against my -shoulder. - -With rare comprehension, for a man, I only stroked the weeper’s spine -and said nothing. At last her sobs quieted. “You do not despise me?” she -asked, tremulously. - -“Despise you?” I repeated. “No, dear lady, no!” - -When she was calm, she told me the whole miserable story. From her -birth, Miranda the Second had been exceedingly fond of animals and had -refused to associate with children at all. She drew animals of all kinds -as a sheet of sticky fly-paper draws Flies. She made friends with -Lizards, Spiders, Toads, Bumblebees, Hornets, Foxes, Wasps, Rabbits,—in -fact everything that crossed her path, with the single exception of -Snakes. For three days she had been lost, and when she was finally -discovered, it was in the wake of an Italian who had a dancing Bear. -Miranda wept bitterly when the police took her home, and for over a week -she raged and screamed, demanding with every breath to be taken back to -the “pitty Bear.” - -It was only upon the promise of seeing plenty of Bears that she had -quieted down at all, and her mother had brought her to Yellowstone Park, -knowing that the animals there would be practically harmless, especially -to one of Miranda’s gifts, and in the hope that satiety might work a -cure. - -Yet every morning, for the three weeks they had been there, Miranda had -insisted upon going forth alone. “My baby,” sobbed the mother, “my baby, -out there alone with the wild beasts! I cannot go with her, for she is -safer without me. I am no relation whatever to the woods, to say nothing -of being a Little Sister.” - -“But her shoes and stockings,” I said, pointing to the soft bundle half -concealed by Mrs. Kirsten’s skirt, “why are they here?” - -“I do not know,” she answered, shaking her head, sadly. “It is possible, -of course, that they may insulate her, as it were, from her mother -earth, and thus make her so different from the other animals that they -could not recognise her as one of them. It is possible, also, that she -sees more Bears when she is barefooted.” - -There was a long silence, then the little toddler came within range of -our vision. She was accompanied by a huge grizzly Bear, who was walking -beside her on his hind legs. Her little hand rested confidingly in his -great paw, and I confess that the sight made me shudder. They came -together, the great Bear walking slowly to accommodate Miranda’s short -steps, until they reached a point half-way between the hotel and the -edge of the forest. - -Then the Bear stopped, pointed to us with his free paw, and Miranda -nodded, in token that she understood. She ran on ahead a little way, -then turned back. The great grizzly bowed very low, with his right paw -placed over the pit of his stomach, then came down on all fours and -ambled off into the forest. - -Miranda came to us, breathless and laughing. “Oh,” she cried, with her -face aglow, “pitty Bears! Booful, booful Bears!” - -[Illustration: “Her little hand rested confidingly in his great paw.”] - -“Pray, what does ‘booful’ mean?” I inquired in a low tone of the mother, -as she put on Miranda’s shoes and stockings. - -“It is early English for ‘beautiful,’” explained Mrs. Kirsten, her face -white with pain. - -Perceiving that it would be the truest kindness to the woman I had -learned to love, I stole away. My keen scientific mind quickly grasped -the possibility before me. Miranda might be of great use to me—so much -was plain—but would it be right? Then I saw that I could not hope to -cure Miranda’s malady until I had seen the working of it so often that I -fully understood its character and scope. Happy, happy thought! - -That afternoon, while Mrs. Kirsten slept the sleep of utter exhaustion, -I told Miranda the story of Goldenhair and the Three Bears, and so won -her childish affections forever. As yet, I dared not suggest my plan to -Mrs. Kirsten, but I felt sure that the time would come when I might -appropriately do so. - -The next day I went out to the garbage heap, and settled myself -comfortably under the tree nearest to it. I must have seen over two -hundred Bears, but I was near enough to none of them to make the -observations I desired. So, with the true Scientist’s fine disregard of -inconvenience, I made an excavation in the top of the garbage heap, -climbed in, and concealed myself as well as I might with the litter. I -do not claim that it was pleasant, but it was unavoidable. - -All day I saw Bears, meanwhile plying my camera and note-book -vigorously. They came and went, but before night I was so familiar with -the different individuals that I had named many of them and knew them -all by sight. I saw nothing of Snoof and Snooflet, however, and began to -wonder where they were keeping themselves. - -Shortly after sunset, the Bears disappeared from the garbage heap, -apparently with one accord. They moved so silently that I did not see -any of them go away. I waited half an hour but none of them came back. -Then I determined to extricate myself from my unsavoury predicament, but -some sixth sense bade me wait a few moments longer. - -Presently I saw the huge grizzly who was Miranda’s friend, cautiously -limping toward the garbage heap, and my heart grew heavy with portent, -for he was an ugly customer to meet without a weapon of any sort. He -pawed over the cans, setting some aside with evident care, and kicking -the others far away in disgust. I snapped my camera at him, and at the -click he pricked up his ears, then gave a deep, thunderous growl which -echoed and re-echoed through the silence. - -I scarcely dared to breathe. In my inner consciousness I promptly -christened him “Growler,” but I did not attempt to take his picture -again. - -Hard upon the roar came Snoof, and she instantly rushed Growler away -from the garbage heap. He made no defence, but simply slunk away, and I -gathered that he was a suitor of hers who had not as yet found favour. -He was old and rheumatic, and many a time, after that, I found him -wallowing in the hot mud around the sulphur spring to cure his -rheumatism, but this belongs in another book. - -She sniffed over the cans, and angrily thrust aside those that he had -gathered together, though I could see that some of them were nearly -full. She tasted here and there, but ate nothing, and presently went -back into the forest. - -Snooflet met her here. She washed his face after the manner of a Cat, -paying special attention to his neck, then began on his hands and nails. -I did not know that Bears did this, though I have since discovered it in -a new book on Natural History. Then, from its hiding-place at the root -of a tree, she took a comb, made from an Elk’s horn, and a very -creditable comb it was, too. She combed poor Snooflet until he howled, -then collared him and cuffed him, finally making him sit still until she -completed her own toilet. - -Together they approached the garbage heap, Snooflet sniffing loudly in -anticipation of the feast. He seized immediately upon a tin which had -contained maple syrup, and began to eat greedily, but his mother gave -him another pair of cuffs and took it away from him. - -I wondered what her object could be, but I was not long left in doubt. -Bidding him be quiet, she pawed over the rubbish until she found two -tins which had contained condensed soup. They ate the remnants of this, -polishing the inside of the cans with their rough tongues until the -metal shone like new. Then Snooflet had a salmon can and his mother a -lobster tin which contained little aside from the juice. Next they each -had an entire can of roast beef, which had somehow been spoiled in -transit, some cold potatoes, some peelings of raw potatoes, half a can -of peas, and a canned tomato or two. A dry cracker came next, with some -salad dressing and a hard rind of Roquefort. I wondered why she did not -make a presentable salad of the tomato and the dressing—salads are -always made of leftovers and these things had been left over a long -time, but I dared not make the suggestion for fear my first name would -have to be changed to Claude if I did so. - -Then came dessert. Snooflet had his maple syrup tin, and his mother the -remnants of a pot of raspberry jam. Having eaten their dinner in -well-bred seclusion and in the proper order, they went away together, -apparently happy. - -By this time I was hungry myself, so I climbed out and made my way to -the Geyser House. Mrs. Kirsten was on the veranda, and at the sight of -me she laughed the first hearty, unconscious laugh I had ever heard from -her lips. “Hello, garbage pail,” she said, merrily, when the paroxysm -had subsided somewhat, “why don’t you go around the back way?” - -I looked at myself. A sardine box hung on my tie, a lobster tin -protruded from my pocket, and I was covered from head to foot with melon -seeds. A cabbage leaf and a melon rind adorned my hat. - -Melancholy though I was, I was about to pass her in a frigid, dignified -manner, and go up to my room, but the stony-hearted manager of the hotel -interfered. “Here, you blamed old scavenger,” he cried, “this isn’t a -dump heap. Go and bury your clothes! Why you look like a guy, sir!” - -“Is not this the Geyser House?” I asked. The joke, which might have been -sold to a funny paper for three dollars, was utterly lost upon him. He -repeated his impolite suggestion about my clothes and said he would send -a boy to me with more. - -I had no choice but to obey. In my changed raiment I was allowed to go -to my room, where a bath, clean linen, and a shave speedily set me right -again. I had left my clothes in the woods for future expeditions of the -same sort. - -Elaborating my notes and developing my plates took me the better part of -a week, and all the time, there was a decided coolness between Mrs. -Kirsten and myself. Not so with Miranda. She loved me, if her mother did -not, and pleaded with me at every meal to take her with me when I went -to see the “pitty Bears.” - -The next morning I was sitting on one corner of the veranda and Mrs. -Kirsten on the other, with Miranda’s shoes and stockings in her lap. I -knew where the child had gone and surmised that a tempest was raging in -the mother’s heart, but she was too proud to turn to me for even a look -of sympathy. - -Presently Miranda came toward us at the top of her speed, with a Bear in -full pursuit. Man though I was, my heart stood still with fear. I had no -weapon—I was utterly helpless—and Mrs. Kirsten, literally paralysed with -horror, stood like a statue. - -The Bear was gaining at every step. Go it, Miranda! On, for Heaven’s -sake on! Heed not the thorns that pierce thy tender feet, but run, -Miranda, run! - -With an inarticulate moan, Mrs. Kirsten flew down the steps, her arms -outstretched, and I followed, willing to sacrifice my own life, if need -be, to save the child of the woman I loved. But we were too late. -Snoof—for it was she—felled Miranda to the ground with one blow, turned -her limp body over, face upward, and took something out of her hand, -throwing it aside with an angry sniff. - -In a twinkling, Miranda was on her feet, violently chastising the Bear -with her chubby hands. “Naughty, bad Snoofie!” she screamed. “Take -Miwanda’s bewwies!” - -Snoof cast a glance of peculiar intelligence at me, winked suggestively, -then ambled off into the forest to rejoin her Cub, who was calling her -plaintively. - -I hastened to find what the Bear had thrown away. It was a little china -mug, ornate with blue and gold, and the inscription, “For A Good Girl,” -lettered on it. All around were scattered the bright red berries which -Miranda had picked. At once I understood—they were poison, and Snoof had -saved Miranda’s life. - -In a few well-chosen words, I acquainted the mother with the facts. She -promptly spanked Miranda and carried her into the house, yelling like -any normal child. In an hour she returned, pale, haggard, and trembling -with emotion. - -“To think,” she said, brokenly, “that that old Bear should have saved my -child’s life! I will never doubt the wisdom of Providence again. Had it -not been for Snoof, Miranda would at this moment have been a cold, cold -corpse. The Little Sister of the Woods would have known the ‘pitty -Bears’ no more!” - -I was gratified at the change in my loved one’s demeanour, but the next -morning the bars were up again and Mrs. Kirsten treated me with the -barest politeness. - -Some days later the grizzly came up to the hotel, dressed in the coat -and vest, collar and tie, which I had left in the woods. He had -evidently found that the trousers did not fit him, for he had made no -more attempt than a Highlander to dress the rest of him, and went about, -with equal unconcern, in his bare legs. - -He coquetted around for a long time, watching for Miranda, then Snoof -appeared, with a tin pail in each hand. She had come to the hotel, as -she often did, for milk and molasses. Miranda came out and spoke in -friendly fashion with the grizzly, using a language I did not -understand, but she paid no attention whatever to Snoof. Having secured -her milk and molasses, Snoof went away, leaving her suitor conversing -amiably with Miranda, but I could see a red look in her eyes that boded -no good to anybody. - -The end came shortly afterward. Miranda and I had been playing croquet -and Miranda still kept her mallet in her tiny, chubby hand. Not -expecting visitors from the suburbs, Miranda wore her shoes. I mention -this, that the reader may judge whether or not it had any influence upon -what followed. - -We sat down upon the steps to rest a moment. The steps of the Geyser -House were very comfortable indeed, being made of soft wood and having -been given two coats of paint. - -Suddenly the grizzly materialised. You can never hear a Bear come. Now -you see it and now you don’t—they make no noise whatever. He had on my -coat and vest and was walking on all fours, but at the sight of Miranda, -he stood up and began to walk like a man—a man with the rheumatism. - -The child laughed gleefully at the sight. “Wait,” she said, “baby make -circus.” - -She called the Cat, set it upon the grizzly’s back, and made them gallop -around an imaginary ring in spite of the grizzly’s loud yowls of pain. -While the fun was in full blast, Snoof appeared, aflame with hatred and -jealousy, and charged straight at Miranda. - -My tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth and I tasted blood, but -Miranda, with great calmness, raised her croquet mallet, and waited,—the -merest fraction of a second. At the proper instant, she brought it down -with a sounding whack upon the end of Snoof’s nose—her single vulnerable -spot. The great Bear fell to earth, stunned. - -I quickly finished the execution with my pocket knife. The grizzly, -frightened, tore madly off into the woods, forgetting his rheumatism, -and leaving us alone with the dead. - -It was not pleasant, even though the end of a wild animal is always a -tragedy. The only way to make a story of this kind untragic is to quit -before you get through. - -An astounding change was taking place in Miranda. She leaned over the -corpse, her eyes dilated and her small body tense. Her breast was -heaving and she shook like an aspen. I would have picked her up and -carried her to her mother, but I was fascinated by her face, and -moreover, I wanted to see what would happen. The true Scientist must -ever sacrifice his emotions to his reason. - -Gradually, the entire expression of her face altered. The eerie, wild -look had vanished completely, and in its place was a very normal fright. -“Tum!” she shrieked. “Baby ’fraid!” - -I took up the Little Sister of the Woods and ran into the hotel, -rejoicing in my heart that the child was cured. That evening, I proposed -marriage to Mrs. Kirsten, who was overjoyed at her child’s sudden -recovery, but my hopes were felled to earth as suddenly as Snoof had -been that very afternoon. - -“The bigamy laws are very strict,” she sighed, meditatively. “Do you not -find them so?” - -“What,” I gasped, “is your husband alive?” - -“Yes,” she returned, “if he hasn’t drunk himself to death since we came -here. If Miranda had only been able to charm Snakes,” she continued, “we -could have lived very happily with her Pa.” - -[Illustration: bear drawing] - - - - - KITCHI-KITCHI - - -Strangely enough, this episode made me very weary of the Yellowstone. -Mrs. Kirsten and the cured Miranda departed by the first train, leaving -a formal farewell for me with the hotel clerk, who grinned sheepishly as -he delivered the message. Republics are said to be proverbially -ungrateful, and women are proverbially uncertain. I concluded to trust -them no more, but to go back to one of my lodges in the vast wilderness -and spend the remainder of the Summer far from maddening woman’s ignoble -wiles. - -I paid my William at the hotel—I have too much respect for it to call it -a bill—and returned to my hermitage by the river and the little stream, -where Jagg lay buried. As before, I found that my cabin had recently -been occupied. - -Human belongings were strewn upon my cot, and a kettle, hung in gypsy -fashion, sang merrily over my camp-fire. I was righteously incensed, and -I determined to make Ab understand, once for all, that my possessions -were not to be trifled with. He had poisoned my pet, the principle -remaining the same even though I was anxious to rid myself of that -selfsame pet, and had made himself obnoxious in every possible way. With -every heart-beat my ire grew until it assumed fairly tremendous -proportions. - -I went back to my cabin in search of some sort of a weapon, muttering to -myself and savagely shaking my fists. When I came out, armed with a -base-ball bat, an Indian stood by the fire, regarding me with pained -astonishment. - -He was about six feet six in height, and wide in proportion. His hair -was short, and he wore no feathered head-dress, much to my surprise, for -I thought an Indian always wore a feathered head-dress to keep his -wigwa’m. His powerful bronze body was artistically draped in a Navajo -blanket, however, and he had moccasins on his feet, so he looked his -part. - -Students of psychology have often observed the inexplicable effect that -a surprise has upon the emotions. Frequently a complete reversal takes -place, and it was so with me. A moment before, I had been furious and -literally aflame with the lust of slaughter. Now I was conscious only of -a broad, far-reaching brotherly love, and a keen, deep-seated desire to -be friends with that Indian. - -Acting swiftly upon this impulse, I advanced with hands outstretched and -a smile of welcome upon my lips. “How!” I exclaimed. “The White Father -is overjoyed to find his brother, the Red Man, sharing his humble -hospitality. Too long have the feet of the palefaces had the right of -way upon the trail. The woods are lonely without their brothers, the Red -Men, and together we will live in this peaceful solitude until -Bliz-Bliz, the snow-bird, spreads his wings and brings the cold. In my -knapsack I have ample provisions to make the heart of my noble brother -glad—Ma-Ma, the white bread, Bow-Wow, the Bologna sausage, -Fishy-Can-Dish, the sardine, a package of the famous Polly crackers, -Ah-Sid, the lemon, and a fragment of Phew-Phew, the well-known German -cheese. Strange lands have sent their best viands to grace this notable -occasion. Will not my brother, the Red Man, accept these small gifts -until such time as I can go to the city after more? This very night I -will set out upon the long trail, returning upon the wings of the wind -with further tokens. If this is pleasing to my brother, I will now -spread the evening meal, and after it, while the Night Owl searches for -his prey, we will smoke the Perfectos of Peace. Will not my brother, the -Red Man, tell the paleface his name?” - -“John Baldwin,” said the Indian, very quietly. “Carlisle, ’99. Centre -rush on the team.” - -When I came to my senses, he was fanning me with a corner of his -blanket, and moistening my numb lips with brandy. Presently I was able -to sit up against a pine tree, though still weak, and take notice. - -“Are you—?” I stammered. “Are you civilised?” - -“No,” returned the Indian, with well-bred composure. “Are you?” - -I could not tell whether I was or not, and with the swift, silent -movements peculiar to his race, Mr. Baldwin emptied out the contents of -my knapsack. He squeezed the lemon over the sardines, rubbing the -mixture to a paste, cut the bread in very thin slices, and expeditiously -made a pile of sandwiches. He brought me one on a burdock leaf. - -“How,” he said. “Fishy-Can-Dish make paleface strong. Heap good -sandwich.” - -Trembling, I ate, and the stony features relaxed into a smile. “What -part of the country did you come from?” he asked. - -“All over it,” I answered. “The world is my country, humanity my people, -and studying Natural History my job.” - -“Oh,” said Mr. Baldwin. “I see. There was one of those blokes at -Carlisle, but the boys chased it out of him.” - -I would fain have risen to my feet, but I was held back. “Don’t get -excited, partner,” continued my friend, who had one of his huge paws -laid on my shoulder in a way that implied intimacy. “Whose cabin is -this?” - -“It was mine,” I explained, “until you came. Now it is yours.” - -“No,” replied Mr. Baldwin, “it is still yours. You are off your trolley -there. I beg your pardon for my intrusion, and to-morrow I will leave -you. I would go to-night, but there is no train, and I must perforce -trespass upon your hospitality a little further.” - -“You are welcome,” I said, feebly. “It is the greatest joy of my life to -have you here.” - -“I do not doubt it,” he rejoined. “No one who heard your simple, sincere -words could think otherwise. Such fine feelings are rare in the prosaic -age we live in, do you not think so?” - -I could only acquiesce. In fact, every time he said anything, I found -that I had precisely the same point of view, and he must have thought me -a very agreeable companion. - -My night’s rest was illuminated with vivid dreams in which the war-whoop -and the tomahawk played a star part, but whenever I started from my cot -with my hair bristling, I was reassured by the peaceful breathing of my -companion, who slept soundly on the other cot on the opposite side of -the room. - -In the morning he explained his Summer adventuring as a reversion to -type. He was a lawyer in Oklahoma, but nevertheless he had been consumed -with the longing to live as his ancestors did and to dress as they -dressed. He had felt the call of the wild while he was toiling over -briefs and contracts, and so far he had carried out his plan, omitting -only the murderous features of his forefathers’ working days. - -As his train did not leave until afternoon, he spent the time from -breakfast to luncheon in my society, and afterward I was glad that he -did so, for I learned many curious facts which I might otherwise have -missed. - -The trees around my cabin were so full of Squirrels that you could -hardly see the leaves, let alone the branches, which were obscured by -the bark of the Squirrels until their native covering was wholly hidden. -The chatter was incessant and was like nothing so much as the composite -sound one hears at the entrance to the Dog Show. Perceiving that I was -interested, Mr. Baldwin very kindly gave up a little of his time to the -Squirrel proposition. - -“What is the Indian name for Squirrel?” I asked. - -“Kitchi-Kitchi,” he replied. - -“How did it happen?” I inquired. “What is the application?” - -With a fine smile upon his bronze face, he went to the foot of a tree, -where the Squirrels were having a nutty argument, and called very -softly, using a language I did not understand. Then he retired almost to -the door of the cabin, and sat down, still making the same peculiar -call. Presently, with a swift, searching glance from a pair of bright -eyes and a soft rustle like that made by a new silk petticoat, a lady -Squirrel, of the red variety, came down the tree and ran straight into -his lap. - -“Kitchi-Kitchi,” said Mr. Baldwin. - -At this the Squirrel turned over, and the Indian, with a playful -forefinger, tickled her in the ribs, again saying, “Kitchi-Kitchi.” The -Squirrel shrieked with delight and ran away, returning almost -immediately to have the pleasant pastime repeated. - -The argument in the tree broke up, and Mr. Baldwin tickled Squirrels, -each time saying, “Kitchi-Kitchi,” until his finger must have ached, -strong though it was. - -I was very much astonished and keenly interested. From his ancestors, -all of whom belonged to the First Families of America, this young -Carlisle man had inherited the wonderful lore of the woods. What could I -not hope to accomplish if I had him with me! - -When I broached the subject, he frowned, and said he must be going. -Within four minutes he was gone, as completely as if the earth had -swallowed him. I was left alone with my books, a half-eaten sardine -sandwich, Kitchi-Kitchi, and my thoughts. - -I devoted some days to replenishing my larder. It was only twenty miles -to the nearest village and I went every day, bringing back all I could -carry each time. I laid in a liberal supply of pemmican, army beef, -home-made biscuits, and other condensed foods, and rolled a barrel of -flour before me on one of my last trips home. On the very last trip of -all, I brought a bushel of shelled corn and two bushels of nuts for the -Squirrels. - -For a few days there was silence in the branches, then the racket began -once more and from that time on there were plenty of Squirrels. My -affections, however, were principally engaged by the bright little lady -Squirrel I had first seen and whom I named “Kitchi-Kitchi.” She was a -beautiful creature, in her mahogany-coloured coat with its fine -markings, her dancing eyes, and her magnificent tail. She had all the -airs of a soubrette and continually played to the front row. - -I soon identified many of the Squirrels and singled them out from among -their fellows. One of the red Squirrels I named “Meeko,” because he was -far from meek, and because it is an Indian word meaning -“mischief-maker.” Another one, also a red Squirrel, was called -“Bismarck.” These two were suitors for Kitchi-Kitchi’s hand. She had -other admirers, of course, but the race soon narrowed down to these two. - -It was Bismarck who greeted me one afternoon when I ran my canoe ashore -near camp. He stood on his hind legs, on the sandy beach, barking and -gesticulating furiously. When I landed, he went to a log near by and ran -the whole length of it three times, barking madly meanwhile, then back -to me, then to the log again. It was not until he sat up on the log and -beckoned to me with his right paw that I discovered what he meant. He -was asking me, as plainly as any Squirrel could, to follow him. - -With every sense instantly alert, I did as he wished me to. He led me to -a hole he had dug in the leaves and pointed to it, still barking. I bent -over it and found a Toad, which had been bitten through the back and -could not hop. - -I picked up the Toad and held him in my hand, meditating upon the -mutability of all earthly things, and Bismarck almost went mad with -excitement. He had evidently found the strange creature and bitten it -through to make it lie still until he could find me. Now he was asking -me what it was and whether or not it was edible. - -By signs I made Bismarck understand that it was not edible in its raw -state, and that I had no inclination whatever to cook it for him. I put -it back into the hole, covered it, and went off a little way. Bismarck -uncovered it, bit it once more, and was immediately taken very sick. He -was well satisfied to leave it alone after that, and I made a corset of -splints for it, lacing it on with a bit of twine I happened to have in -my pocket. This done, the Toad hopped off in a great hurry, not even -staying to say “thank you.” He evidently had no desire to pit his feeble -strength against Bismarck again. - -At the time, this whole incident was new to me, but after reaching home, -I discovered much the same thing in a new book on Natural History. The -other observer had found a Lizard in the hole, instead of a Toad, and he -made no corset for the injured animal—at least if he did, he did not -record it, but I always record everything. - -Every morning, at four o’clock, Meeko, Bismarck, and Kitchi-Kitchi would -waken me by giving a dance, with quadrille calls, on the roof of my -cabin. I soon formed the habit of early rising and once I was up, ready -for the day’s toil, before three. In order to let them know how it -seemed, I pounded with an axe on the trees where the three had their -nests, and they all scampered down, very much frightened. After that, I -was not disturbed until half-past five, when they insisted upon my -rising, and to which, as a compromise measure, I did not in the least -object. - -Kitchi-Kitchi, Meeko, and Bismarck would come into my cabin several -times each day to be tickled. At first I found the novelty of it rather -amusing, but at length it became wearing, and I was obliged to shut the -doors and windows in order to have any time to write. Even then, they -would dance on the roof and pound on the window glass in a way which was -exceedingly disturbing to one of my artistic temperament. - -My table was near the fireplace and Kitchi-Kitchi came in one day by way -of the chimney. She arrived on the fair, open page of my observation -ledger, sooty, panting, but thoroughly happy, and demanded to be -tickled. - -After that, the others came in that way, and even when the doors and -windows were wide open, they would sometimes come in by the chimney -route just for the fun of the thing. - -[Illustration: - - “She arrived on the fair, open page of my observation ledger, sooty, - panting, but thoroughly happy.”] - -It is not generally known that the Flying Squirrel has not a monopoly of -the aërial navigation business as far as mammals are concerned. His -body, it is true, is especially constructed for flying. The loose skin -with which his legs are connected spreads out in falling, parachute -fashion. Perhaps the other Squirrels have learned this from him; perhaps -they learned it independently, but it is certain that a Squirrel can -fall from almost any height without apparent inconvenience. They flatten -their bodies and tails against the air and sail triumphantly downward, -alighting easily and scampering off unhurt. - -I did not know this before, but now I saw it done repeatedly. It was one -of Kitchi-Kitchi’s favourite amusements to send Meeko and Bismarck to -the topmost branch of a lofty oak near by, and at her signal make them -jump. The one reaching the ground first was rewarded with a nut and a -playful, coquettish pat. - -Like the Chipmunks, the Squirrels hide their food, though it is done -differently and on a much smaller scale. The Chipmunk will hide much and -all in one storehouse; the Squirrel hides very little and everything in -a different place—an ear of corn in the crotch of a tree, a handful of -acorns under the eaves of a barn, bits of bread between two twigs, -relying on the spring of the wood to keep it in position, and nuts -everywhere. - -I saw a terrible quarrel once, between Bismarck and a Blue Jay who -raided his bakery. When it was over, Bismarck had four pecks on his body -and one peck of feathers for his nest. The Bird immediately started -south, though it is not common for this species to travel in the -altogether. He was naked and very much cast down—in fact, the bluest jay -I ever saw. - -One day I did something for Kitchi-Kitchi which won her eternal -gratitude. We had gone fishing together, as we often did, and she sat -upon the gunwale of my canoe, sorely tempted to rock the boat, but -obedient to my expressed command not to. Presently, by gestures, she -made me understand that she was thirsty. I dipped up a cup of water from -the lake on which we were rowing and offered it to her, but she put it -aside with disgust. So I put a little brandy from my flask into the -water and offered it to her again. She was indignant and scolded me -violently—her language was positively scurrilous. When we landed she -still insisted that she was thirsty, and, at my wits’ end, I drew some -of the sap from a tree for her and offered it to her in the cup. - -She drank every drop and whisked about madly to express her joy. She -nibbled at my ears and put her cool nose into my neck, then tried to -tickle me under the chin with her paw, making a noise, meanwhile, that -sounded like “Kitchi-Kitchi.” It was unpleasant, but I understood the -spirit of it and forgave the means. - -The same afternoon, she led her admirers a pretty chase. Fleet as they -were, Kitchi-Kitchi was more fleet. Nothing except Atalanta or an -automobile gone wild could run as she did that afternoon. I had -previously wished I knew the Squirrel language, and now I saw that in -order to converse intelligently with Kitchi-Kitchi, I must learn -Russian. Finally, in a bacchanalian frenzy of action, she ran to the top -of a lofty oak and prepared to jump to the next, folding her tail -daintily about her as a fine lady does her skirts at a muddy crossing. - -Meeko screamed in terror and Bismarck fainted, but Kitchi-Kitchi made -the jump safely with several inches to spare. After that, whenever she -wanted to bring them to terms, she took the high jump. The scheme always -worked, but it was a terrible leap, even for a Flying Squirrel,—fully -twenty feet,—and Kitchi-Kitchi had no wings except her youthful spirits -and her bounding energy. Many a time have I seen her upon a lofty -branch, swinging by one hand, and waving the other at Meeko in a tree -close by. He was fain to follow her, but she was always about four trees -ahead. - -Never have I seen the sweet influence of woman more beautifully -exemplified. When she was with them, Bismarck and Meeko treated one -another like long-lost brothers. The three took many a promenade -together, arm in arm, Kitchi-Kitchi folding her tail over the hollow of -her elbow as though it were a train. When she went away for her -afternoon nap, or to gather some choice morsels for her evening meal, -they invariably fought. - -I kept court-plaster and bandages on hand to repair the damage that was -always done on such occasions, and Kitchi-Kitchi never appeared to -notice it except once. When Bismarck called upon her with a -blood-stained bandage tied over one eye, she shrieked and kicked him -outdoors. He fell to the ground like a dead weight, I suppose because -his heart was so heavy—but fortunately was not injured further. Meeko -had her to himself for a week after that, then Bismarck, the bandage -gone, resumed his place at her side and upheld his right to it in many a -scrimmage. - -The two vied with each other in bringing dainties to tempt her appetite. -Robins’ eggs, with the top part of the shell removed, all ready for -sucking, mushrooms, nuts, berries, apple seeds, pop-corn, and the -thousand other choice bits her educated palate was accustomed to, were -laid at the door of her nest, high in the branches. It was Meeko who -accidentally brought her a poisonous mushroom which made her so ill that -for days her life was despaired of. She forgave him, however, and used -to sit in the sun, very thin and pale, with two devoted attendants to -wait upon her. - -Naturalists who think that Squirrels eat Birds are very much mistaken. I -have seen Meeko pounce on a wayfaring Bird hundreds of times, but -curiosity has always been the motive. They will not eat Bird unless it -is properly cooked. I know, for I have tried them with bits of a raw -Crow, that had died from natural causes. The fact that Birds are not -afraid of Squirrels triumphantly proves my theory, in spite of the fact -that the eggs are occasionally taken out of the nest. Whenever a -Squirrel has visited a Bird’s nest, after the young were hatched, -curiosity and friendly interest in the welfare of the young have been -the sole reasons in every case. - -Meantime, my fame as a tickler had spread abroad, and I used to give up -hours to it each day. I might better have spent the time in writing, but -it was so noisy that I could not write, except to make hasty notes in my -note-book, and I was there to study Natural History. An old grey -Squirrel from the next county brought her entire family of young for me -to tickle, and when I refused, she bit one of my ears until the blood -came in a bright red stream. Bismarck drove her away and Kitchi-Kitchi -stanched the bleeding with a bit of Rabbit fur she brought from the -woods for the purpose. - -Kitchi-Kitchi was devotedly attached to me. She would stop eating a nut -any time to scamper down the tree-trunk and perch upon my arm or -shoulder. She would sit upon my shoulder while I performed my manifold -household duties, and would occasionally precede the broom, sweeping the -floor with her tail. She would stay in my cabin long after I had told -her to go home, and when I put her out, she would return by way of the -window or chimney, cross the room, climb me, and put her head down -between my collar and neck, barking meanwhile unless I spoke to her, -stroked her, or tickled her. It used to give me an uncanny feeling when -she ran up my spine while I was writing in my ledger—in other words, the -climate disagreed with me. - -It fell to my lot this Summer to hear a Squirrel singing a duet with -itself. It sounds as though the voice were split, the high part coming -through the nose, and the low tones through the throat. It is always a -lively tune, perfectly rhythmical, interspersed with gales and gusts and -cyclones of very human laughter. It is not generally known that -Squirrels sing, but Little Brothers of the Woods can find out a great -deal if they only give their minds to it and buy plenty of books. - -At length, I missed Kitchi-Kitchi, and my heart grew sick with -foreboding. I feared lest one of those terrible tragedies of the woods -had taken place and my little friend’s life had thus been sacrificed. -The end of a wild animal is always a tragedy—the pitiless law of the -wilderness, supported by claw and tooth and fang, has so ordained. - -Meeko and Bismarck were as usual, except that they carried a great many -nuts and mushrooms up one particular tree. Determined to find out, I -climbed, and there on her nest, pale and worn with the long vigil, but -still cheerful, sat Kitchi-Kitchi. - -She would not let me lift her, protesting loudly when I tried it, but -when I tickled her in the ribs she moved enough to give me a glimpse of -the eggs under her. Very few observers have ever seen a Squirrel’s egg. -They are about the size of a Turkey’s egg, a dark brown in colour, with -a long, handle-like projection, fully as long as the egg itself, at the -wider end. This undoubtedly holds the tail of the baby Squirrel. - -Six weeks later she came down—a mere shadow of her former self. In three -weeks more, the babies were able to come also, and they made a pretty -group, playing in my dooryard and falling over themselves at every step, -not yet having learned how to manage their tails. I would have tickled -them, gladly, but I already had my hands full and I did not wish the new -generation to acquire the habit. - -Things went on as usual until late in the Fall. Summer lingered long -that year, and the woods were a golden glory almost until November, but -the Birds had gone and the Squirrels were making ready to follow. - -One morning there was a great chattering, and I was so sure that -preparations for departure had begun that I gave up my work entirely and -went out to investigate. A few moments of close, quiet observation -proved my hasty surmise correct. - -From every conceivable corner were brought large, flat chips. They were -fully six inches square and much worn, as if they had been used often. A -depression in the centre was the only variation from the flat surface. - -Such a time as there was! The woods seemed to be one solid Squirrel in -multitudinous attitudes. The scene would have been very perplexing to -any but a perfectly sober man, and at intervals I even doubted the -evidence of my own senses. - -The older and larger Squirrels dragged all the chips to the brink of the -river, which flowed from north to south, and then, at last, I began to -understand. So poor are our weak wits in comparison with the denizens of -wood and field, whom, in our pitiable self-conceit, we call “the lower -animals.” A Squirrel is normally a much higher animal than any of us, -excepting only the tree-dwellers on the Orinoco. - -Some of the chips were fastened together with strands of wild-grape -vine, and were heavily laden with nuts and corn. Others were passenger -boats and sailed proudly alone. The young ones were put on the chips -before they were launched, and screamed in terror as the little craft -slid into the current. - -The commissary fleet, in charge of an old grey Squirrel, who was -perfectly calm, was launched first, then the chips bearing the small -fry. The passenger boats were last to go, and the travellers swam out -into the stream to catch them. One grey Squirrel missed his boat -entirely and was drowned. It came ashore four miles farther down and I -still have it among my most-prized possessions. - -As long as I live, I shall never forget that sight. The day was -glorious, with never a hint of frost in the air, and the woods, -strangely silent, now that the Little People were gone, echoed and -re-echoed when a nut dropped on the fallen leaves. - -Down the stream sailed the Squirrel fleet—brave little mariners, these, -with tails proudly spread to catch each favouring wind. Bismarck did a -wonder of navigation, tacking repeatedly and coming up beside -Kitchi-Kitchi under full sail. Meeko was stationed at her other side and -his boat went at exactly the same speed as hers. Close together, as -married lovers down the stream of life, the three sailed, with the -family of young ones on a large chip just ahead, where the anxious -mother could keep an eye upon them. - -I stood watching for over an hour. The current was swift and bore them -away all too soon, but with my powerful field-glass I kept them in sight -until the tears blinded me and I had to wipe my eyes. - -The only way to make an animal’s story untragic is to finish before you -reach the end, so I shall leave them here—that little company of -fur-clad, bright-eyed captains, making the long journey southward before -the frost should come. Far down the stream was a bend, where the fleet -turned, and even with the field-glass I could not see around a corner, -so with one last lingering look and a deep sigh, I gave it up. - -But a glimmer caught my eye, and, trembling with excitement, I raised my -glass once more, fixing it upon the bend of the river, where the last -boat was just rounding the curve. - -Was it fancy, or did Kitchi-Kitchi stand up, wave her hand at me, and -across the boundless waste of waters that lay between us, send me a -parting smile? - -[Illustration: squirrel drawing] - - - - - JIM CROW - - -I always called him that because he was so dark and because I have no -race prejudice whatever. People used to allude to him as my Crow, but -the real truth lay much deeper than that. If there was any idea of -possession in our somewhat singular relationship, I was Jim’s—he was not -in the least mine. - -He adopted me one day at sight. I was walking through a pasture about -fourteen miles from my cabin, when I saw Jim sitting upon a rail fence. -He did not move at my approach, and I thought he must be a stuffed -animal, put out to dry by some taxidermist in the neighbourhood. I -walked up to him and, at length, stroked his head gently. At this, he -opened his eyes, yawned, and with a sleepy “_Caw-w-w-w_,” perched upon -my shoulder and so rode home with me, in spite of my protests. - -To this day I have never been able to solve the mystery. I examined him -carefully for signs of damage, but to all intents and purposes he was -sound in wind and limb, free from pink-eye, string-halt, or glanders, -and not afraid of automobile or steam roller. - -He ate plentifully of the simple meal I cooked over my camp-fire, and, -while I washed the dishes, followed me around like a devoted dog. I -suppose he must have recognised me as a Little Brother of the Woods—at -any rate, he stuck to me closer than a brother while our strange -attachment lasted. - -When I perceived that Jim had no intention of leaving the cabin, I went -outside, shook him off my shoulder, and ran back, closing the door -gently but firmly. Imagine my surprise to hear a loud, jubilant “Caw!” -from the rafters. Jim had anticipated me, and had flown in—when, I did -not know. Three times this was repeated. At last, I thrust my head and -shoulders through the window and remained there some time, enjoying the -landscape and the Summer moonlight. Jim, still on my coat collar, -finally went to sleep, and this time I easily dislodged him, then -quickly closed the window with a triumphant bang. - -Outside, everything was suspiciously still, and I began to wonder -whether or not Jim had taken offence and left me for good. I was still -meditating when there was a crash of glass, and Jim, having broken the -window, joined me with every evidence of pleasure. I saw plainly that I -must make the best of a bad bargain for the night, and the next day, or -as soon as possible, put crowbars on all the windows of the cabin. - -I retired, but not to sleep. Jim followed me into my cot, stretched -himself full length on my pillow, and put his cold, clammy feet on my -cheek. When I moved, Jim flopped. When I turned over, burying my face in -the pillow, Jim sat on my head, scratching constantly. I tried to put a -bit of the sheet between us, but it was useless. Presently, Jim slept, -as his snoring unmistakably proclaimed, but as soon as I moved, he woke -and resentfully pecked at my face. - -So I lay there, miserably enough, until dawn. Jim woke of his own -accord, took away his feet, which were warm by this time, yawned, -stretched himself, and demanded breakfast. I took my time about -preparing the meal, but Jim made such a racket with his caws of -complaint that I determined to be more prompt in future. - -That day I barred up all the windows, and at night, after two hours of -strategy that would have done credit to the commanding general of an -army, I found myself in the cabin, with doors and windows locked, and -Jim on the outside. - -He tried all the windows, but my barriers held. It was suffocatingly -close in the cabin, but I knew that the chimney would furnish a draft -and keep me from being poisoned by the impure air. Then a terrible -thought struck me—suppose Jim should come in by the chimney route, as -Kitchi-Kitchi and her friends were wont to do, and, sooty though he was, -insist upon sleeping with me! - -This did not occur to him, however, or perhaps he knew a better way. He -made night so unspeakably hideous with his loud and vociferous calling, -his vicious pecks at the glass, and the beating of his wings against the -door, that at last, in sheer desperation, I got up and let him in. - -I slept the sleep of utter exhaustion that night—with Jim’s feet on my -cheek. As the weeks went by, I got used to it, though it was never -pleasant. We can get used to almost anything, if we have to. - -I tried to find consolation in Jim’s cunning tricks, of which he had a -great many. A Crow is about the most intelligent wild beast I have ever -come across, and, after study, becomes fascinating. It added a -pleasantly human element to my solitude in the wilderness, for Jim was -as unexpected, as unreasonable, and as incomprehensible as a woman. - -When I planted my garden, he watched me, and afterward he dug up the -seeds and ate them. By way of atonement, he brought me some crocus bulbs -from somebody’s else garden. I was never able to find out where they -came from and so I could not return them. - -He made deep excavations into my potato hills and ate the eyes out of -the potatoes, passing by the Bugs, which I could never induce him to -touch. He would eat the Worms I gathered to go fishing with, and -afterward would caw repeatedly, with bated breath. Mosquitoes, Flies, -Potato-Bugs—all these he disdained, but he would eat anything which he -could eat without being of indirect use to anybody. I discovered later -that after he had gorged himself with the eyes of the potatoes, so that -he could not hold so much as another eyelash, he would keep on digging -until he was exhausted, merely to make a nuisance of himself. - -I stretched a white cotton string across my dooryard, between two trees, -and taught Jim to jump over it, turning a double somersault in mid-air. -Some choice tidbit rewarded him for this, and he got so that whenever he -was hungry, between meals, he would run up to an imaginary string, take -the flying leap, turning the double somersault before he touched ground -again, and walk up to me, cawing loudly with pleasure in his -performance. I always praised him, and sometimes stroked his head or -back, whereupon he would demand the tidbit, which was generally -forthcoming. Sometimes it was a bit of raw bacon, a small dish of pork -and beans, or a cold pancake, liberally sweetened with molasses. - -On one of these occasions, Jim broke his leg. While turning the -somersault he missed his calculation by a hair’s-breadth, and caught a -claw on the string, which happened to be a little heavier than usual. He -fell heavily to the ground with a yell of pain which brought me -instantly to his side, but he would not let me touch him. Whenever I -reached forth my hand, he gave a cry of alarm which warned me very -effectually to keep away. - -Half flying, half walking on the other foot, he made his way to the -river bank, where he took some soft clay from the edge of the water and -with his bill made a little mound of it. Then, by the same methods of -locomotion, he went away a short distance and gathered some grass of a -particularly tough variety. All the time he was seemingly oblivious of -me, though I was close by and, as the reader may well imagine, watching -him intently. - -Returning to the river bank with a liberal supply of the grass, he first -washed the broken leg thoroughly in the stream. Then he smeared the -broken place with soft clay, working fibres of grass into it meanwhile, -then more clay, grass, and so on in distinct layers until the -enlargement was about the size of a butternut. All the time he was pale, -but very brave. - -It took him fifteen minutes by my jewelled repeater to set the leg. -Afterward, for exactly one hour, he sat under an overhanging shrub with -the injured member stretched out in front of him. His eyes were closed -but his face wore an expression of great suffering. At the end of the -hour, which must have been agony to him, he fluttered up into the -nearest tree, and with great effort sawed off a small branch which had -just the proper crotch. He stripped this of its leaves, put the crotch -under his wing, and with this improvised crutch, went back to the cabin. - -He lay down on my pillow unrebuked, and I brought him a cup of water to -moisten his parched lips. He gave me a thirsty peck, then drank eagerly. -Poor Jim! That night, and indeed many a night afterward, my calloused -cheek missed one of the firm, small feet to which it had become -accustomed. - -He used the crutch constantly, and every day he examined his leg with an -expression of deep personal concern upon his dark countenance. Its -progress seemed to satisfy him and at the proper time he took off the -clay cast. The leg seemed as good as ever, though a little stiff, but I -could never get Jim to jump over the string again. He seemed afraid of -it and shared the same fear regarding anything white. Waving my -handkerchief at him would frequently drive him away from me for hours -together, and thus I gained time to write, and to put down in my -observation ledger priceless records, made on the spot, of the great and -glorious panorama of wild life which was passing under my gifted eyes. - -Naturally, I was proud of my pet. When I returned to the city, however, -and resumed my researches in the library, I learned that this method of -setting a fractured limb was well known among the Birds. One of the new -books on Natural History described at great length the setting of a -Woodcock’s leg by the same means, the operation having taken place under -the writer’s own eyes. The only difference was that the Woodcock used no -crutch. I learned, further, that hunters often shot Woodcock, Grouse, -Snipe, and Quail who had been repaired in the same way. To many of these -Birds remnants of the clay casts still clung; others bore only slight -evidences of the fracture, which, in knitting, became perfectly smooth. - -[Illustration: - - “Put the crotch under his wing, and with this improvised crutch, went - back to the cabin.”] - -Every one knows how a Chicken’s leg is sometimes broken, and, in -healing, is twisted to one side. This, of course, refers to very young -Chickens. I have seldom had one on my own plate whose leg could have -been broken by anything short of a butcher’s cleaver. The legs of fliers -and the wings of walkers are choice morsels, but of the legs of walkers -and the wings of fliers, the less said the better, and the more polite -when at the table. - -To return, not to our mutton, as the French have it, but to our Crow, as -the politicians say. - -Jim had a great many friends among his own race, and after they learned -not to be afraid of me, they used to call upon him at stated intervals. -Often I have gone out in the morning and found my dooryard black with -Crows holding a caucus. Some Unnaturalists have it that every Crow is an -independent caucus, but I am not prepared to make any positive -statements on this point. - -It was by watching these assemblies that I learned the Crow language. -Every student of Natural History admits that Crows have a way of talking -to each other and making themselves understood. It has remained for me, -however, to tabulate these utterances in suitable lists, and by the same -method pursued by Champollion with the Rosetta Stone, together with the -system of cipher-solving elucidated in _The Gold Bug_, arrive at the -inner meaning of their language. - -A few keen-eyed Little Brothers of the Woods, working independently, -have discovered with me that _caw_ is only one syllable of a somewhat -complicated speech. They often say _ker-ker_, _ah-ah_, _cluck-cluck_, -_haw-haw_, and _ha-ha_, making in addition several other sounds which -are difficult to describe adequately in print. - -I took the precaution to use a phonograph, and thus secure exact -records. The entire subject, treated scientifically, and at the proper -scientific length, will be found in my volume published last year, under -the title: _The Nature, Habits, and Language of the Crow Indians, as -Seen by a Scientific Observer Cooped up by Them on Their Reservation: -Together with Exhausting Notes Concerning Their Songs, Ballads, Dramas, -Customs, and Crafts_. - -My publishers thought the title was a little too long, but I pointed out -to them that many scientific works have even longer titles, and that -when anybody pays two dollars for a book, it is with the expectation of -securing two dollars’ worth of language. - -Not to weary the reader with details, and to interest the general public -in the more expensive book, I transcribe below a few of the more -prominent words of the Crow language. - -_Caw_—Has as many uses as the Latin verb _fero_, and the precise meaning -depends largely upon the tone of utterance. In a loud, clear, cheerful -tone, it means, as nearly as can be expressed: “Good morning, Carrie.” - -_Caw_—Fortissimo, means: “Man. Might be dangerous. Keep sharp lookout.” - -_Caw-Caw_—In sharp, imperious accents, means: “Man has gun. Fly the -coop.” - -_Caw-Caw_—In a tone of contempt, means: “Gun is only umbrella. Stay -where you are.” - -_Haw_—“Horse in off field very sick. Watch.” - -_Haw-Haw_—“Donkey instead of horse. Wouldn’t that jar you?” - -_Ker_, naturally, means “dog.” _Ker-Ker_ means two dogs. _Haw-Ker_ means -travelling salesman or man practising music. - -_Ha-Ha_ indicates laughter, as all through the brute creation. - -_Cluck_ means Chicken, _Cluck-Cluck_ two Chickens. Two Crows together -indicate a Rooster. - -_Ah-Ah_ shows deep astonishment, mingled with pain. - -_Ker-Cluck_, from its root derivation, would mean _Dog-Chicken_. In -other words, a lower form of Chicken, something which is smaller and -equally edible. Also, onomatopoetically, a Frog. - -_Caw-Ker_ means the best thing of its kind, whatever it may be. Students -of philology will note the resemblance to an Aryan word still common -among the lower orders of English-speaking peoples. - -_Ah-Ker_ means a sore place. Example, a broken leg or aching tooth. - -It will be seen that the language is very condensed and in a few -syllables may epitomise an entire conversation. For instance: - -“_Caw. Caw-Caw. Haw. Ker-Ker. Haw-Haw. Cluck-Cluck. Caw-Ker._” Freely -translated, this runs as follows: “Good morning! How do you find -yourself this morning? Don’t get excited, that two-legged thing is only -a Man with an umbrella. There is a sick Horse in yonder field that I -have my weather eye on, also a dead Donkey. Two Dogs are watching, and -there are a couple of nice Chickens that appear to be spring broilers, -trotting peacefully around the farmyard. The Horse is a Donkey, too; -wouldn’t that make you sick? Nevertheless, those two Chickens are -corkers and I intend to have them before my feathers turn white with old -age and theirs fall out for the same reason.” - -From this brief instruction, the intelligent reader will be able to -translate the Crow language. Just here, perhaps, I ought to mention the -fact that I gave Jim an anæsthetic one day and slit his tongue, hoping -that he could speak English. Some of our words, as is well known, are -tongue-twisters. Whether it was to spite me or not, I shall never know, -but I record the painful fact that Jim never learned any English except -my last name. Whenever I did anything that displeased him, he would -shriek out “SITDOWN!” in a loud, compelling tone that I invariably and -instinctively obeyed. Then, with a merry laugh, he would flutter off -over the trees to tell his friends about it. - -When a Crow sings, it reminds you of a cornet half full of molasses. -They only sing when they are courting, which is extremely fortunate. If -I were a lady Crow, wooed with song, I should take vows of eternal -celibacy. They may not be saddest when they sing, but other people are. - -I shot one of them one day, when they were doing too much singing, and -the rest of the company called an indignation meeting on the spot. -Having decided that I was the criminal, they sentenced me to have my -eyes pecked out and appointed six of their number as executioners. -Happily, I had on my spectacles, and when they had broken and eaten the -lenses, they were satisfied. That night six more Crows died in great -agony from the eating of broken glass. They did not molest me further, -but buried their dead comrades with great pomp and ceremony. - -Very few observers have ever seen a Crow funeral, but it fell to my lot -to be present at this one. It was a bright moonlight night and I -crouched behind a stump in a pasture lot, partly screened by the -undergrowth that had sprung up around it, and had an unobstructed view -of the entire affair. - -Sometime during the day, a long, transverse trench had been dug and -lined with leaves. The seven corpses, feet upward, were lying on burdock -leaves at a distance of about seventeen feet from the trench. A long -stem was left on each burdock leaf, and to it was tied a long, stout -string which shone whitely in the moonlight. I did not know what it was -for, then, but later I understood. - -Seven of the oldest and most prominent Crows, at a given signal, -advanced to the dead. Each one took the end of a string in his beak and -stepped over it in such a way that the cord passed straight under his -body. I noted with a thrill of pride that Jim was in the lead. - -The rest of the Crows were in tiers a little to the left. At another -signal, Jim and his followers began to march, to a low mournful tune -produced by the other Crows, swaying their bodies in time to it. In my -note-book I hastily jotted it down. It went like this: “_Caw-Caw, -Caw-Caw, Caw-Caw, Caw-Caw_,” the first syllable of each foot being -heavily accented. It was not until they reached the third measure, -which, I noted, had eight feet instead of four, that it dawned upon me -that they were marching to the solemn and beautifully appropriate -measures of Poe’s wonderful poem, _The Raven_. It was so touching that -the tears blinded me, and when I could see again, the procession was -well under way. - -Shall I ever forget it, I wonder—those stately marchers convoying their -dead? Each one of the seven Birds was drawing a large burdock leaf, on -which lay the remains of his dead friend. When they reached the trench, -the bodies were all laid in, in an orderly row, covered with burdock -leaves and then with earth. - -The simple ceremony over, they dispersed, silently and solemnly, but it -set me to thinking and wondering if, after all, man had any right to -kill the lower animals for any reason whatsoever. I was brought, also, -to a new comprehension of the law of compensation. I had lost a pair of -spectacles, and, in return, I had speedily witnessed another spectacle -which was indeed wonderful and which set me upon a lofty height, far -above my fellow-observers. - -It was a day or two before Jim came back to me. He had a strand of black -yarn tied around his left leg which he would not suffer me to touch, and -which, at the end of the thirtieth day, he removed of his own accord. -For a week or more he was sad, then he gradually chirked up and began to -act more like himself. He ate Thrushes’ eggs, tweaked wool off the backs -of the farmers’ Sheep, and stole countless small articles out of my -cabin. - -I came upon his hoard one day in a hollow tree which had been struck by -lightning and broken off about eight feet above the ground. He had -pebbles, clam shells, strings, my diamond scarf-pin, a bit of the mica -from the front door of my stove, two pieces of broken glass, a square of -blue glass I had brought to observe an eclipse with, a blue-bottle Fly, -a piece of resin, some bits of bright coloured wool, the handle of a -china cup, a cordial glass, a choice collection of white Rabbit fur, -which he was evidently saving for his nest, and, vanity of vanities! a -triangular piece of broken looking-glass, which was carefully laid -across the top of the collection. It was the sunlight playing upon this -which led me to the spot. I took out my diamond pin and the cordial -glass, leaving the other things undisturbed, but the next time I -investigated, there was nothing there. He had moved his treasures to -some safer place. - -Jim Crow had peculiar notions about his eating, being especially fond of -’possum, sweet potatoes, watermelon, fried Chicken, corn bread, corn -fritters, and molasses. Seeing that his tastes ran that way, I baked -some Johnny-cake on purpose for him. He pecked at it politely, but truth -compels me to record the fact that it was very hard—almost too difficult -for solution. - -At length he took a large piece in his bill, having chiselled it away -from the main formation, and flew away slowly. He could not go fast, for -the bread was not light, save in colour. Wondering, and quickening my -footsteps to a run, I followed him to the river. He selected a place -where the current was swift, hovered over it a moment, then dropped the -bread squarely in. - -I was hurt—I do not deny it, but later developments showed me that I had -no reason for it and that Jim had sufficient cause for his action. -Keeping his eye on the bread, which, to my surprise, floated, Jim flew -down stream, cawing loudly. With nice calculation, as it afterward -proved, he sat down on the bank at exactly the right place and waited. - -In a few minutes, the bread came ashore, soft and palatable. Jim ate it -with great relish, then, seeing me peering at him through the shrubbery, -he distinctly laughed, and flew back home again. When I got there, he -had soaked the rest of the bread in a pan of milk which I had left in an -exposed position, and was finishing up with molasses. - -He did a great many things which at first puzzled me, but which I -afterward understood. I had taken down his perch, which was merely a -branch nailed across one corner of the cabin, thinking to get a fresh -one the next time I went out. Days passed, and I forgot it, but Jim -called my attention to it in rather a curious way. - -I had been fishing one afternoon, returning about five o’clock with a -fine string of Fish which I intended to cook for supper. Jim lit on one -of them and refused to budge. I picked him up and he pecked my hand so -severely that I was glad to put him down. He let me take the other Fish -without protest, but camped on this one until bedtime, cawing loudly at -intervals of three minutes or less. When at last he flew in to take his -accustomed place on my pillow, I picked up the Fish to see if I could -solve the mystery, and, in an instant, my quick, active mind began to -work. The Fish was a Perch—the only one I had caught—and Jim was doing -his best, in his poor weak way, to remind me of my shameful neglect. - -The brilliant Bird had his reward, and, that very night, before I slept, -I fixed his new perch across his old corner of the cabin. Jim watched -me, with something very like a smile upon his face, making sleepy caws -of gratitude all the time I was at work. When I went to bed, he tickled -my face playfully with his tail and caressed me with his beak, to show -his appreciation. - -We slept that night as we always did, with Jim’s feet high on my cheek. -I did not mind it then, but long afterward, when I went back among the -haunts of men, and discovered deep crow’s feet around my eyes, I wished -that I had broken him of the habit by any method, no matter how -desperate. It added years to my age and made it practically impossible -for me to get a position in a telegraph office. Fortunately age does not -affect literature. After a man is dead, he may continue in the business -and often rank higher than his living competitors. Mr. Plato and Mr. -Shakespeare are still formidable rivals of the industrious knights and -ladies of the pen. - -My knowledge of Jim’s epicurean tastes came about in a strange way. I -was preparing our simple repast one noon, when I felt the rush of wings -over my head. Before I had time to look up, something dropped with a -splash into the pan of bacon I was frying and then, from a distant -branch, Jim laughed gleefully. - -He had dropped a young Rooster, which he had just killed, into my hot -grease. He had made some attempt to take off the feathers but it was not -successful, and I removed it, to Jim’s great disgust. - -He talked so much and so long that I finally lost track of it, but I had -the main idea. He had killed the Rooster not only for the fried Chicken, -but to satisfy a personal grudge. I judged from Jim’s remarks, that this -young Rooster had crowed over him long enough and had come, by a swift -vengeance, to an ignominious end. - -We had the Chicken the next day, fried, with bacon and corn fritters, -and it was not half bad—rather less than a quarter, I should say, which -was all I could expect, since I had no ice and was obliged to keep it -over night in a warm climate. - -One other observer has found that Crows play games with each other, but -he has not specified the games. I have fully tabulated these and have -found striking resemblances to the games of children. Personally, with -my own eyes, I have seen a flock of Crows playing “Follow the Leader,” -“Puss in the Corner,” “London Bridge,” “Tag,” “Prisoner’s Base,” and -“Drop the Handkerchief.” The handkerchief was a bit of white wool -unwillingly contributed by some Sheep, a ball of hair from a Hare or -Rabbit, or a compact cluster of feathers from someone who had been -called down. - -Early in the Summer, Jim moulted. It was pathetic to see him going about -without his clothing, and I made him a red flannel jacket, such as the -kind ladies in _Cranford_ made for the Cow who fell into the lime. The -jacket and a good hair tonic, rubbed in thoroughly about every other -day, put him well in advance of the season, and long before the other -Crows had their new clothes, Jim was strutting about in the full glory -of his, as proud as a Peacock and fully as impertinent. He always -cherished the red flannel jacket. It hung from his perch for a while, -where I was not allowed to touch it, and then he flew off into the woods -with it, to pack it away, I suppose, with his other treasures. - -It grieves me to the heart to write of the end of Jim, that brave, gay, -mischievous Bird, who shared my bed and board for a Summer, and then met -the universal fate of the wild. The end of a wild animal is always a -tragedy and the only way to avoid writing tragedy is either to stop long -before you get through, or not to begin. I cannot stop before I get -through, on account of a habit I contracted when I was writing for the -magazines at a cent a word, and, moreover, I need the royalty on this -book. A big book can be sold for more than a little one, every time. If -you don’t believe me, go and price a dictionary. The cheaper books are -merely a part of the dictionary arranged in another order. - -Hitherto, I have failed to mention the fact that Jim was married. I knew -nothing of it until he was also a parent, and I never knew how much of a -parent he was, for he was singularly uncommunicative on the subject and -his nest was upon an inaccessible height. He stole an empty bottle out -of my cabin and kept it in a crotch of a tree near by, with the cork -which belonged to it tied to the neck by a string. Jim was a cautious -Bird. On nights when I left the pan of milk outdoors, Jim would not -sleep with me. When I discovered this, I set myself to figure out the -connection. - -I left the pan of milk in an open space in the yard one bright moonlight -night, and, as I half expected, Jim refused to share my pillow. I went -to bed as usual, but in a few minutes got up and watched him from a -secluded position. - -He walked around the pan of milk a few times, cawing under his breath in -an important, businesslike way, then flew off for the bottle. He -returned with it, and filled it from the pan, using his beak for the -purpose, and tilting the pan with his foot when the milk got shallow. - -When the bottle was full, he pounded in the cork, grasped it in his -claws, and flew away with it towards his nest. I surmised then that Jim -was so much of a parent that Mrs. Jim did not have milk enough for all -the little ones, and the husband and father was compelled to forage for -the balance. Deeply touched, I left a large can of malted milk tablets -on the window-sill, open. Within two days, they were all gone. - -It was Hoot-Mon, the great Owl, who put an end to Jim. Between the Owls -and the Crows there is lifelong enmity. An Owl will attack a Crow at -night and a Crow will attack an Owl in the daytime. I knew Hoot-Mon, of -course—every Little Brother of the Woods knows Hoot-Mon,—but an article -on him had not as yet been ordered, and so I made no special study of -him. - -It was my fault, too. After Jim was asleep, I put the pan of milk -outside for fear it would sour. When he woke and missed it, he scratched -my face violently. Trembling with rage, I put him out, saying, as I did -so: “You miserable, low-down, black beast, I wish I might never see you -again!” - -Unexpectedly my wish was granted. In my dooryard, in the morning, when -the blood-red sun rose out of the mists of dawn, I found poor Jim, torn -and mangled and irretrievably dead, lying beside the empty milk-pan. - -He had been slain by Hoot-Mon, who, after eating as much as he could, -had sailed away with beak and claws dripping, to wait for darkness and -further feasting. - -Even if Jim had not been so very dead I could not have saved him, for, -in the words of a rival Unnaturalist, “there are no hospitals for sick -Crows.” - -Poor Jim Crow! Time has softened your misdemeanours with its kindly -touch and my memory of you is a pleasant one! - - - - - HOOP-LA - - -When you meet a Fox, there are nine surprises. Five of them are his and -the other four are yours. You may be looking for him, but he is not -looking for you; consequently, he is more surprised than you are. - -The following Summer, when I went to my cabin, I found it occupied. By -this time I should have been accustomed to such things, but, strangely -enough, I was not. To make it worse, the new occupant was not one I -could turn out, being a relation. He had been a distant relation -hitherto, but was now a near one. - -Our family has intermarried a great deal with the descendants of -European royalties, and Uncle Antonio was of the great and well-known -family of the Cæsars, who, if my readers will remember, used to rank -high in Rome. The line of descent was somewhat blurred, it is true, but -Uncle had a Roman nose and was given to roaming about the country. - -By profession, he was a musician—one of those rarely talented people -whose genius is infinitely above such minor details as technique. -Rubenstein, according to his biographers, used to make bad mistakes in -reading his own music, and nearly everyone who has played him has, at -some time or other, followed in his gifted footsteps. - -Uncle was another Rubenstein, as regards the mistakes. His soul, lifted -above all mundane things, soared to meet the thought of the composer, -and his fingers stumbled over the keys. This would not have bothered -some people, but Uncle was sensitive and it annoyed him, so at length he -had an instrument especially made to suit his own needs. - -It was an organ of the regulation type, small and compact, yet with a -glorious volume of tone that would have delighted Wagner. Connected with -the interior by a wonderfully scientific system of levers, was the -motive power. The superior form of the instrument made possible some -changes in the manner of playing it. - -Instead of pushing on the keys, in the ordinary, common way, my Uncle’s -organ was played with a rotary sweep of the whole arm, the hand, -meanwhile, firmly grasping the lever. This enabled him to put more -expression into the music. I would like to say right here that my -Uncle’s organ was invented long before the day of patent piano-players, -and that we, as a family, have about decided to prosecute the makers of -these cheap, clap-trap instruments, in behalf of Uncle Antonio. - -It was gratifying to see Uncle’s face when he played. With all -mechanical difficulties overcome, he was free to give his entire -attention to the fine shadings and hidden meanings of the composition. -It was pleasing, also, to note how close he came to the hearts of the -people. Even the little children would come and stand around Uncle -Antonio when he played upon his organ, and musicians in the -neighbourhood, gnashing their teeth in jealous rage, would close their -windows to keep my Uncle’s notable accomplishments from belittling their -own. It is ever thus. Upon my own trail have sprung up a score or more -of writers on Natural History—but I must not say more, lest I be thought -too personal. - -Uncle Antonio, also, was a lover of the wild animals. He had one pet, in -particular, which meant much to him—a genuine African Monkey, imported -at great expense and difficulty. He had taught the intelligent animal a -great many cunning tricks—in fact, Jocko could do almost everything but -speak. Through Jocko I had first come to an understanding of Uncle -Antonio. There is an old saying to the effect that, in order to know a -man, you must first meet his Dog, and then see them together. In the -same way, you must have known Jocko in order to comprehend my Uncle. - -I was within a quarter of a mile of my cabin, my pulses bounding with -happy anticipation, when a low moan, which seemingly came from a broken -heart, struck my ear. I paused and stood like a marble statue—a trick I -had learned from my kindred of the wild. Then the curious sound was -repeated. - -Stealthily, I made my way toward the cabin, but I was not yet so skilled -in woodcraft that my feet made no noise. Before I reached the door, my -Uncle came out, and a glance at his face showed me that he had met with -a great loss. - -Like other geniuses, Uncle was somewhat careless in his attire. As a -family, we had often laboured with him on this point, but to no avail. -The unfettered spirit of the great will express itself in outward -semblance, and at length we gave it up. Uncle wore a pair of trousers -which, at first sight, did not appear to be his, and a negligee shirt, -wide open at the throat, like a poet’s. A bright red handkerchief, -carelessly knotted, took the place of a tie, and his coat was his velvet -one, to which he had been strongly attached for many years. Small hoops -of gold, similar to those worn by Venetian noblemen, hung from the -pendant lobes of his musical ears. - -Seeing me, he eyed me for a moment in great astonishment. “Hella da -dev!” he exclaimed. “What for you coma da here?” - -I can never hope to describe, in English, the charm of my Uncle’s -foreign accent. Long years of residence in this country had not -eradicated it, and his low, melodious voice, full of unexpected -harmonies, gave a lyric quality to his conversation. - -“I am here,” I returned, “because this is my cabin. I might ask the same -question of you,” I added, playfully. - -“Hella da dev!” said Uncle once more. This quaint, foreign phrase, -indicating a pleasant surprise, often appeared in his speech. “My -father-in-law, he giva da coop to you? It is astonish!” - -“Yes,” I sighed, “it is.” Grandfather was one of those thrifty pioneers -who held on to a cent until the Indian howled. - -Uncle sat down and wiped his forehead with the fancy, coloured -handkerchief which was an heirloom in his family. This was quite in -keeping with the situation, for I have often known the unexpected sight -of a relative to produce cold perspiration on the skin of a sensitive, -emotional person. - -“Listen,” said Uncle, struggling to his feet. “I tella you. Here I come -two, tree day back. Maka da gr-rand professional tour through ze back -countree, where zees poor pipple, zey haf no moosic at all. It ees -pitiful.” - -I nodded. Such generosity was like Uncle. - -“Getta da cent,” he resumed, “getta da tree cent. Zees grateful pipple, -what haf no moosic, zey nevaire giva da nick, no, nevaire! Wis Jocko, -zen, I meet zees place, where I stay for ze little res’ away from ze -unappreciatif pipple. An’ here, what you zink? Jocko haf been stole from -me!” Here his voice rose to an agonised shriek: “_Jocko haf been -stole!_” - -His grief broke through the dam and overflowed. The sight of a strong -man’s tears is always terrible, and I turned away until the first -outburst subsided. - -Then I advanced to comfort the stricken man. “Perhaps, Uncle Antonio,” I -said, kindly, “Jocko ran away of his own accord.” - -“Hella da dev!” cried Uncle, clenching his hands. “What are zees pipple -I haf been married to! Jocko, da monk, run away? Nevaire! Listen. Tree -year now, Jocko and I maka da professional tour together. Jocko getta da -cent from da audience, bringa him to me. Smarta da monk—weara da -asbestos glove, taka da warm cent also. Jocko run away? Nevaire! Jocko -haf been stole!” - -After long consideration, I thought so, too. I knew very well that if -any human being had stolen the Monkey, he would have been returned long -before this. My memory of the animal was that he was rather troublesome, -but of course I did not wish to say so, for fear of hurting my Uncle’s -feelings. - -Eliminating the human element from the proposition, there remained only -one possible conclusion. Some animal had done it, in response to that -merciless law of the wilderness, which bids the wood people seek and -slay and devour; the law of claw and tooth and fang, from which there is -no appeal. - -Jocko had not been taken from his high perch—this left tramps and -neighbours out of the question, also Coons and Owls. He had not been -left partly eaten, so that Weasels, Pole-Cats, or Minks were not -responsible. What animal could have taken Jocko away bodily? My quick, -active mind immediately answered: “A Fox!” - -I said nothing to Uncle Antonio of my suspicion. In the morning, when I -went down to the lake for my bath, I found a foxglove which surely had -not been there the night before. It was a mother, then, foraging for her -young. I wondered how they liked Jocko. He was so disagreeable to me, -personally, that he would certainly have disagreed with me, even if I -had eaten him. - -The next day, my suspicions were confirmed in an unexpected manner. The -ivy which grew around my door was pulled down and badly trampled upon. I -remembered the old saying, then: “Little foxes spoil the vines.” The -mother, growing bolder, must have brought her young into my dooryard. - -When you are troubled by a mother Fox, you may know that her den is far -away. She never draws attention to herself in her own neighbourhood. -When you are not troubled by a mother Fox, you may know that one is near -at hand. This great truth is familiar to every Little Brother of the -Woods. - -One bright afternoon, later in the week, I took my field-glass and went -to a lofty hill near by. I climbed to the summit and from that point of -vantage surveyed the surrounding country, looking for the den. I found -it, at last, under an overhanging rock, far to the south. - -The mother Fox sat in the doorway with her sewing, making another glove, -doubtless, to replace the one she had so strangely lost, while her -little ones gambolled about her. I never saw more than three at any one -time, and so I concluded that there were only three in the family. - -I felt wicked, spying upon this charming domestic picture, even though -it was through my field-glass and I was so far away that they would -never know they were observed. Here I was proved wrong, however. The -weary seamstress laid her work aside and stood up, brushing the threads -from her lap. She yawned, smoothed her back hair a bit, and was about to -go inside, when she paused. - -With every sense alert, she leaned forward, shaded her eyes with her -hand, and stared straight at me—the man with the field-glass on the -summit of the hill so far away. I was embarrassed, but I did not move. -When she had satisfied her curiosity, she grinned at me and then, -unmistakably, winked. - -She seemed to know that I was far different from that barbarous race of -men who would hunt her and her babies with dogs and guns. Her composure -was so perfect, her intuition so swift, and her wink so suggestive of -amiable deviltry, that I at once named her “Hoop-La,” which is an Indian -word signifying lady-like mischief, and so she remains in my annals to -this day. - -We knew where each other lived, and we were friends—so much was already -established. I felt sure now that Hoop-La would visit me when she knew I -was at home, perhaps bringing her little ones with her, but the question -quickly arose in my mind: how should I dispose of Uncle Antonio? - -That night, as delicately as I could, I told him that I had enjoyed his -brief stay with me very much and that I was sorry he must go. - -“Mus’ go?” repeated Uncle, pricking up his ears, “for w’y you say zis? I -haf no mentions made of ze departure—it is wis me you haf someone else -maka da confuse.” - -“Perhaps,” I answered, with rare tact. “My dreams are sometimes very -vivid.” - -“I see,” said Uncle Antonio, with a child-like smile upon his calm, -high-bred face; “you hitta da pipe.” - -I did not enlighten him, for it is bad manners to contradict a guest. -You must never insult people in your own house—always go to theirs. - -“I have come, dear Uncle,” I continued, “to study Unnatural History. It -is an absorbing pursuit, and I fear you will find me poor company.” - -“No,” returned Uncle Antonio, in his gentle, foreign way, “zat no maka -da dif to me. I lika you mucha da bet when you say nossing—nossing ’t -all. Ze more you keepa da still, ze more your Oncle lofe you.” - -With his fine comprehension, he had instantly penetrated to the heart of -things. “Staya da here,” he said, with touching dignity, “until Jocko -maka da return trip. Jocko always bringa cent when he coma da back.” - -In some way, it reminded me of those stories of New England, so -plentiful in our day and generation, and always so beautifully written, -where somebody is always waiting for somebody else, who never comes. In -those rare instances where the long wait is rewarded, the emotion of the -lost one’s arrival has always been attenuated into nothingness. In a -reminiscent mood, also, I mused upon an epigram my sister made, on the -tenth anniversary of her wedding day. “Before marriage,” she said, with -a little choke in her voice, “woman spends all her life waiting for her -husband. After marriage, she spends three quarters of it in the same -way.” My brother-in-law, I may say, in explanation, was one of those -people who make it the chief business of their lives to be late to -everything. - -I left a note for Hoop-La under a boulder by the path which I felt sure -she would take when she grew bolder and came to visit me. The next day, -when I went to look for it, it was gone, and I was pleased to think she -had it. At supper, however, Uncle Antonio produced it from the secret -recesses of his attire. - -“I getta da dead next to you,” he said, with a merry laugh. “You gotta -da sweetheart here. Zat is ze reason w’y you maka da chase of your poor -old Oncle out. Me no leava da monk.” - -The ensuing quarter of an hour was very unpleasant for me, though at -length I convinced him that I had nothing to do with the note. He would -not accept my word until I wrote a page or so for him, in another hand. -I was foxy enough to learn to write three or four different hands at -school and it has come in handy early and often since. - -I soon saw, however, that I should not be troubled much with Uncle -Antonio. Every day he took long, cross-country tramps, “to finda da -monk,” as he pathetically said, and often having disagreements with -cross country tramps whom he met on the road. But he did not mind, and -his faith and hope were absolutely without limit. - -Hoop-La came one day when he was absent. I first felt her bright eyes -upon me from a thicket close at hand, then I saw her tawny -orange-coloured fur, and presently she approached, walking on her hind -legs, with her magnificent tail thrown over one arm. Her tail was her -principal adornment; her paws were her chief features. She was doing the -kangaroo walk to perfection, and when I went in and brought out a paper -of cookies she did the cake walk also. - -She sat near me for some time, contemplating me gravely. She could not -speak my language and I did not know hers, nevertheless a perfect -understanding was soon in operation between us. A Fox looks beyond your -eyes to your inner thought, which is not especially difficult, for the -thought-tank, as students of physiology all know, is the padding around -the optic nerve. She had not brought her fancy work—I suppose she did -not feel that she knew me well enough, or else, like many human ladies, -she did not fancy work. - -At all events, it was a very formal call. At the close of it, she bowed -and went away with great dignity. Had I followed her I would have seen -capers, tail-chasing, quick turns, high kicks, and flying jumps, then a -mad gallop home, but I did not know this until I got back to the city -and read it in a book. Some of the Little Brothers of the Woods have -seen a great deal that I have unaccountably missed, but because they -have been more fortunate than I have, it does not necessarily follow -that they have lied about it. - -I never saw Hoop-La’s husband, and concluded, therefore, that she was a -widow. Her ways were sufficiently winning to justify my hypothesis, and -she was as clever as any of them. - -One time, she was unjustly suspected of stealing some Chickens, and the -Hounds were set upon her trail. I had gone to the hill I have spoken of -before, to add up my accounts on the summit, and I saw them, far in the -distance, headed straight for the open field just below me, where -Hoop-La was fixing up their day’s work for them. - -First, she ran all around the field three times, then took a long jump -toward the centre, and wove herself in and out in a circle. Then she -took another jump and wove more circles, and so on, for the better part -of an hour. All the time, the deep bellowing of the Hounds came nearer, -but Hoop-La did not seem to be at all alarmed. It was not until the -leader of the pack struck the field and caught the scent that she took -any notice of them at all. - -By a series of swift and wonderfully clever sorties, which included high -jumps and frequent wetting of her feet in the brook, she gained the -hill. Then she came up beside me, taking care, however, to keep on a -small patch of orange-coloured grass which exactly matched her coat. The -wonder of it was not that the grass should match Hoop-La, but that she -should know that it did. - -Down below, in the field, the hunt went on. There must have been five -hundred Dogs there, or else they ran so fast that they looked like more. -The pasture seemed to be one solid Dog, circling in and out, jumping, -leaping, and weaving strange designs upon the green sod below. - -Suddenly the significance burst upon me. With her own clever body, -sentient and alive from nose to tip of tail, Hoop-La had made a quilt -pattern, and the Dogs were following it. It was like a game of living -chess, such as the barbarian kings used to play before the Republican -party got into power. - -Have any of my readers ever seen a Fox laugh? Hoop-La sat beside me, -with her hands on her sides, rocking and swaying in a spasm of -merriment. Salt tears of joy rolled down her cheeks and made little -rivulets through her fur. By looking at these narrow lines, I perceived, -for the first time, the wonderful pinky fairness of her complexion. - -Meanwhile the Dogs wound in and out on the trail, the pattern becoming -more and more distinct every minute. When there was a space in the -swiftly moving mass, I could see deep scars upon the surface of the -field, and this seemed to amuse Hoop-La all the more. She laughed until -I was afraid her hysterics would bring the Dogs upon us. I was sure she -could take care of herself, but I was not anxious to have my own -footsteps dogged by that pastureful of howling fiends. - -One by one, the Dogs dropped out. Some of them lay flat on their backs, -utterly exhausted, and breathing like so many locomotives. Enough short -pants were made in that field that afternoon to clothe the inmates of -all the orphan asylums in North America, but Mother Nature is ever too -generous with her material—in spots. - -Hoop-La was still laughing and it got worse every minute. Remembering -her sex and thinking to divert her, I took a handful of coins out of my -pocket and laid them on the grass beside her. She pawed them over -without interest for a moment or two, then her eye lit upon a penny -which was evidently fresh from the mint. - -She played with it for a time, enjoying the glint of the sun on the -shining copper, then her face suddenly illumined with a bright idea. -Before I realised what she was going to do, she took it in her mouth, -walked over to the edge of the hill, sat down, and with a precision of -aim which was unusual in her sex, threw it straight down into the -pasture. - -I was aghast. Hoop-La had deliberately given the Dogs a new scent! - -Still, they received it without enthusiasm and she seemed very much -disappointed. I knew one thing that she did not; namely, that Dogs are -instinctively afraid of coppers. - -[Illustration: - - “Hoop-La sat beside me, with her hands on her sides, rocking and - swaying in a spasm of merriment.”] - -When the baffled animals went home, Hoop-La descended into the field and -retrieved her financial losses. I suppose she took the coin home to her -children, and after familiarising them with its outward appearance, she -told them: “_That is man-scent._” - -A week or so after that, when I sat upon the summit of the hill, with my -field-glass fixed upon the roomy piazzas of her home, it fell to my -good-fortune to see her teaching her little ones. She was a tender -mother, but a severe task-mistress, and plied the rod liberally when -they made mistakes. - -She taught them how to play dead, how to manage their trails so the Dogs -could not step on them, how to pick a Squirrel’s teeth and bones, how to -catch Field Mice without a trap, how to hunt Mares’ nests, how to play -Leap Frog, and how to sing the woodland spring song. I have jotted down -the words: - - “Tinkety tank, tinkety tink, - Haunt of the Weasel and haunt of the Mink; - Tinkety tank, tinkety tink, - Come little Foxes, come here and drink.” - -This is the water song of the Fox family and corresponds to a college -yell. Many a night, you can hear it over the hillsides, in deep, -loud-mouthed bays that brook no delay and harbour a sinister meaning. - -Among other things, she taught them these proverbs: - -“Never sleep on your track until you have curled it up so much that it -makes a soft bed. - -“When your leader fails you, shuffle the pack for a new deal and turn up -another trump. - -“Money may not be your best friend, but it is the quickest to act in -time of trouble. Therefore, trust your scent. - -“Dried up water never runs. - -“Do not sleep in the river-bed when the springs that used to be there -have rusted away. - -“Never travel by daylight if you can help it. Take the night express and -be there in the morning. - -“If you don’t know what it is, bring it to Mamma. She will put you on. - -“Never hunt for Hens in a boys’ college, nor for Mice in a female -seminary. - -“A gasolene automobile overpowers everything but a Skunk. - -“Don’t sit on the paint. - -“If you climb telegraph poles to do the tight-rope act on the wires, -don’t eat the currents. - -“Take a yellow journal with you when you are going where there is no -orange-coloured grass. - -“If you can’t smell anything, the wind is wrong, and other people are -smelling you. Turn around and it will be all right. - -“Never feel ashamed of your clothes. Fox fur may not be Sealskin, but it -is expensive enough to be decent. - -“Never throw an Indian off the scent. It is against the coin-mutilation -law. - -“Try to use other people’s experience and profit by bad example. Pattern -after the Indians, who never moccasin. - -“Let the Snakes alone; fur boas do not grow wild. - -“When you drop your Rabbit’s foot, look out for falling hair.” - -The instruction was interrupted by a strange animal flopping wildly -about in front of the den, as though attached to a chain. It was smaller -than Hoop-La and of a different colour. It had bright red on its head -and body, and, even at that distance, I could see a tail long enough to -make a three-volume novel. Then my heart gave a violent lunge into my -ribs. Unquestionably, it was Jocko! - -I put the glass down, my hands trembling. Why had Hoop-La monkeyed with -Uncle Antonio’s pet? And what would Uncle Antonio do if he should hit -upon the truth? Would he not shoot Hoop-La and all her children and make -a Winter coat for Jocko out of their complexions? Echo answered me—he -would. - -My quick, active mind was partially paralysed. The cogs were rusty and -the chains of thought creaked over them without producing any power. -What should I do? - -Should I remain silent, while my blood-relation ate his heart out and -all the provisions I could buy? Should I listen, night after night, to -the heartrending strains of _Bedelia_, syncopated by a strong man’s -sobs? Every night, when playing that painful melody, Uncle was overcome -at the line: “I’ve made up my mind to steal you.” “That is it,” he would -shriek, “my Jocko haf been stole!” By a wonderful modulation, too swift -for the ordinary ear to perceive, Uncle Antonio always changed off to -_Could Ye Come Back to Me, Douglas_, and played it twice before he -ceased. - -Obviously, it was up to me. In my hands were the tangled threads of -Fate, which I and I alone could unkink. - -I did not sleep for three nights. On the fourth day, I walked out a -little way from the cabin—perhaps eight or ten miles. In the woods I met -Hoop-La under strange circumstances. - -She was walking on her hind legs, carefully holding her magnificent tail -away from the dust and the cockleburrs. She may have believed in the -re-incarnation theory, but it was evident that she did not care to -become even a little burred. Upon her arm was an old Fox, with a scarred -face, blind and helpless, as I soon perceived. He was bald in many -places, had false teeth in both jaws, and his tail had only one new -sprout at the end of it. He paid no attention whatever to me, and I -quickly surmised that he had also lost the sense of hearing. - -I knit my brows in deep thought, then instantly unravelled them. The -express thundered around the bend, and, in a flash, I understood. He was -some poor old foxy grandpa, totally deaf, whom Hoop-La had found walking -upon the railroad track and was taking home. It gave me a new insight -into her kind heart, and I was sure that if I could only make her -understand how Uncle Antonio and I felt about Jocko, she would release -him, even though the children wanted to play with him. - -But to make her understand? Ah, measureless, impassable gulf that lies -between us and our kindred of the wild! - -Several days later I visited the den. I could hear Jocko flopping about -on his chain in the far corner, and hear the little Foxes screaming with -delight. I did not think Hoop-La was at home, and was about to crawl in -and kidnap Jocko. Just then, as if reading my thought, she came out. - -She looked at me disdainfully—contemptuously, I thought. Then she went -back, returning almost immediately with an old, worn-out rubber, which -she expressively dropped at my feet. I crept away in shame, fully -understanding her point of view. - -Eventually, the thing was solved, and in a strange manner. It came about -in this way. - -Uncle Antonio, like many foreign noblemen, carried with him a miniature -cooking outfit and some imported ingredients. He had said nothing about -these, being content to subsist entirely upon my humbler fare, but one -day, when I was about to start for the village, he came to me. - -“You goa da town?” he asked. - -I nodded. - -“Looka da here,” pleaded Uncle Antonio. “You bringa sixa da pork chop, -two lar-rge can da tomat, one onion lika your head.” - -“What for?” I asked, suspiciously. - -Uncle Antonio’s face became radiant. “Hist!” he replied, in a stage -whisper. “Me cooka da spaghett! Nica da spaghett!” - -For the first time in my life, I felt deep and abiding love for my -Uncle. Needless to say, I hastened back with the required articles. - -In a kettle, over the fire, Uncle Antonio fried the pork chops and the -onion to a deep seal brown, then added the contents of both cans of -tomatoes. He salted the mixture liberally, then from his pack brought -two large cloves of garlic and a bottle of paprika. He sliced the garlic -in, sprinkled it with the paprika, and, by some means known only to -himself, decreased the heat. - -All day the appetising compound simmered. At night, Uncle Antonio -pressed the entire mixture through a sieve that he had in his kit, and -set it aside. Then he prepared a kettle of boiling water, with a -tablespoonful of salt in it, and from the inside of his organ took out a -great bundle of spaghetti, the tubes being very small, and something -over a yard and a half long. - -“Nica da spaghett,” crooned Uncle, stroking it fondly. “Maka da -wonderful moosic!” - -He boiled it twenty minutes by my jewelled repeater, drained it, put -some on my plate, poured a liberal quantity of the sauce over it, and -passed me a bottle of grated cheese, which, until now, he had kept in -his hat. - -I tasted of it with some misgivings, but instantly I was Uncle’s. -Through my system vibrated a single joyous thought—I had watched him and -I knew how to do it. - -I must have eaten nearly a peck of it. There was some left, and when I -went to bed I put it outside, for fear I should get up and eat it in the -night. - -In the morning I crept out, hungrily, thinking to steal a march upon -Uncle, but, to my astonishment, the plate looked as if it had been -washed, and all the sauce was gone! - -I made a loud exclamation of pained surprise, and Uncle Antonio came -out, fully dressed. He slept in his clothes to save time and trouble. -“Oh,” he shrieked, tearing his hair, “eet ees Jocko! Jocko haf been here -in ze night w’ile I sleep! Jocko lova da spaghett! He always washa da -plate for me!” - -He tore around like a madman, looking for his pet, but of course he -found nothing. I saw something, but wisely held my tongue about it. A -box of Hoop-La’s footprints had been left on the doorstep and there was -a bundle of her tracks a little farther on in the wood. - -Like Minerva from the head of Jove, a great scheme presented itself, all -ready to be worked out. That afternoon, I climbed to my observatory, and -with my powerful field-glass saw Hoop-La on the veranda of her home, -grinning, licking her chops, and occasionally patting her stomach with -an air of satisfaction. - -That night I said to my esteemed relation: “Uncle Antonio, if you will -fix up another pail of that spaghetti, borrow a Horse, and trust me -implicitly, I think I can restore Jocko to your empty arms.” - -He looked at me suspiciously, then assailed me with a torrent of -questions, to all of which I made no reply. He spent the night preparing -more sauce, and at dawn he set out for the nearest village, twenty-one -and a half miles distant, to borrow a Horse. - -About noon, he rode in, put up the Horse in the bridle chamber attached -to the premises, and cooked a savoury mess of spaghetti. My mouth -watered, but I dared not hesitate. I mounted, took the plate, and rode -off toward Hoop-La’s den. - -As I had hoped, she was at home. I tied the plunging steed, whose mouth -was dripping and who regarded the spaghetti yearningly, and advanced to -the front piazza. - -Sniffing hungrily, she came out, and I heard the frenzied clankings of -Jocko’s chain. “Come, Hoop-La,” I said, though my voice trembled. She -called her children, and in a moment they were all eating greedily. - -As I had planned, poor, imprisoned Jocko came out to the end of his -chain. It did not permit him to go farther than a foot from the -entrance, but that was sufficient for my purpose. Quick as a flash, I -unfastened the chain from his collar, took the thoroughly frightened -animal in my arms, and ran for dear life to the Horse. - -I was none too soon. With an angry snarl, Hoop-La followed me, but she -had already eaten too heartily to do her best work on the rough track -which lay ahead of us. She clung to the Horse’s tail, growling and -snarling in baffled rage, her claws and teeth urging the trembling steed -into a foaming gallop. - -My hat flew off and many of my most valuable ideas blew out through my -ears, never to return, but Jocko, terrorised into death-like stillness, -lay quietly inside my coat. - -Somehow or other, I kept my seat, and thus we dashed into Uncle -Antonio’s presence. When she saw the strange man, Hoop-La let go and -slunk back into the woods, defeated and ashamed. - -“_Jocko!_” screamed Uncle, in a passion of joy, as his long-lost pet -flew into his arms. “_Bambino! Cara mia!_” Fine family feeling compels -me to draw a veil over that affecting reunion. - -Just at sunset, they left me, marching southward, Uncle’s blissful state -of mind expressing itself in exultant strains from his organ. He read -meanings into the music that the composer, in his wildest moments, could -never have hoped to convey. It is a peculiarity of travelling musical -geniuses, like my Uncle, that they always begin a journey at sunset, -when the day goes. - -Growing ever fainter, the compelling strains of triumph broke upon my -listening ears, fortunately without doing any damage. Fortissimo, forte, -decrescendo, piano, diminuendo, pianissimo, peace—thus the clear -commanding notes died into silence, winding in a thread of silver melody -around the base of the distant hill. - -Night fell, but I dodged and it did not hit me. The quiet sweetness of -the woods was like a plaster on a sore place, and I enjoyed it to the -full. My conscience reproached me somewhat for betraying the trust the -tawny mother had reposed in me, and I felt, intuitively, that I should -never see her again. - -I never did, though I am always expecting to meet her in the woods, and -I never hear a _faux pas_ without thinking it maybe Hoop-La or one of -her children. - - - - - JENNY RAGTAIL - - -After my Uncle went away, the silence began to rasp on my nerves; it was -so different from what I had been accustomed to. I had that curious, -attenuated nervousness which is always expecting something unpleasant to -happen. This was especially acute along about seven in the evening, at -which time my talented relative was wont to begin his regular recital -upon the instrument he so thoroughly understood. - -From seven to eleven, the air would be full of faint, mysterious echoes -which had no discernible source. Fragmentary, disorganised phrases from -_Bedelia_, _Could Ye Come Back to Me, Douglas_, and the beautiful, -though familiar melodies from _Il Trovatore_, came in from the woods -around me and beat against the walls of my cabin. It seemed as though -some of Uncle’s music had been canned and the cans were exploding. The -effect was uncanny, to say the least. - -As time went on, it became evident that I must do something desperate, -or else become the star inmate of a padded cell. Those who do not -believe in personal influence should remain alone for a time in a place -which an uninvited relation has regretfully left. With nerves and senses -sharpened by the ordeal through which they have recently passed, they -will hear and feel some queer things, or I miss my guess. - -At the crisis of my unhappy condition, I remembered the old saying, -“Like cures like,” and I clutched at it as a drowning man grabs the -proverbial straw. “The hair of a dog will cure the bite,” continued my -inner consciousness. - -But what could I do that would even remotely approach the things that -Uncle did? I had no musical gifts, and an organ like his was out of the -question for about eleven hundred and eighty-nine different reasons. I -must have something, however; something distinctively Italian. Like -lightning the solution of my problem burst upon me. A concertina! - -Within a week I had procured a fine one, also an instruction book. The -new study became so absorbing that I forgot all about Unnatural History, -for the time being. It was not long before I could play _Down on the -Suwanee River_, _The Last Rose of Summer_, and _Home, Sweet Home_. The -instrument had a wonderfully fine tone, and, for the first time, I began -to understand the wild, universal passion to learn music. - -I discovered that the pleasure is mainly selfish, the joy being -principally that of the performer. The one who plays, or rather works, -an instrument of any sort, can never give others as much pleasure as he -gives himself. With the voice, the principle is the same, though greatly -intensified. Conversation exemplifies it in lesser degree, though not -much less. I remembered that when I was very young, a number of other -rising citizens used to battle with me for the control of the harmonica -which I found in my infantile sock one radiant Christmas morning. “The -child is father of the man,” said Wordsworth, though how much his word’s -worth it is not for me to say. - -As I played, one day, I felt bright eyes upon me. I was taking deep -accordion plaits in the silence, but I was not wholly oblivious to my -surroundings. “Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast”—how -wonderfully true that is! Already I looked forward to the time when all -the wood-folk should come and stand around me, open-mouthed and rapt, -while I worked my concertina. - -Every day, when I began to practise my technical exercises, I felt the -bright eyes. When an eye is laid on a Little Brother of the Woods, he -can feel it all through his system. I was not sufficiently interested, -however, to investigate. - -One bright morning, when I was practising that beautiful song beginning: -“Knock, and the world knocks with you; boost, and you boost alone,” I -heard a corroborative thump from the woods. - -It was really a tremendous noise and seemed as though it must have been -made by a Moose, an Elephant, or some animal equally large. At brief -intervals the sound was repeated and at last I concluded that someone in -my immediate neighbourhood was giving a pound party. - -The next day, according to the entries in my observation ledger, I had -filled the concertina with cooky crumbs and had begun to play a -cake-walk, adding a little milk to the interior occasionally to -produce a more liquid tone. From the distant shrubbery, from the same -quarter where I had repeatedly felt the bright eyes, I heard a -thump-thump-thump, perfectly metrical, and in time with my merry tune. -It was accompanied by a soft patter, seemingly from very small hands. -With a sudden reversion to my former interests I threw the concertina -aside, and dashed into the forest. - -There, beneath a bush, were Jenny Ragtail and her son, Chee-Wee, still -patting and thumping in the metre of the cake-walk and not knowing that -the music had stopped. It takes sound some time to travel and I have -always been very quick on my feet. - -As soon as they saw me, they vanished. - -When I returned to my instrument, it refused to work, and upon taking it -apart, I discovered that the milk had been churned to butter. I was -obliged to scrape the entire mechanism before I could play any more, but -there was a smile of satisfaction upon my face as I did so. I had always -known that the long ears of Rabbits served some good purpose in the wise -economy of creation, and now I perceived that they were ears for music. -A Donkey’s telephonic apparatus is constructed upon much the same plan, -and everyone knows how he can sing. - -I have not space to describe the gradual manner in which my acquaintance -with Jenny Ragtail progressed, nor how I learned all that I know about -Rabbits and their language. Suffice it to say that before many weeks had -passed by, she and Chee-Wee would scamper into my presence as soon as I -began the first notes of the cake-walk, and would sit very close to me -as I extracted the melody from the instrument, patting and thumping at -the accented notes. - -I remembered reading in my well-thumbed copy of _Uncle Remus_ that -“Bre’r Rabbit was always a master hand to pat a tune,” but I never -wholly believed it until I saw it done. Little Brothers of the Woods are -sometimes very incredulous of the observations of others, as my readers -have doubtless noted. - -In the remainder of this scientific treatise, though I may translate -freely and frequently from Rabbit into English, I shall say nothing that -the Rabbits did not say. Accuracy has always been a strong point with -me—in fact, I am rabid upon it. - -Jenny Ragtail was a large, well-shaped brown Rabbit. Her body tapered -slightly in at the waist line, and this led me to surmise that in the -privacy of her chamber she wore some sort of a corset. Her finale was a -gloriously beautiful tuft of white Rabbit fur, which led Chee-Wee in and -out of the mazes of the forest trails like a friendly beacon. Her eyes -were large and brown and motherly, and projected so far from her kind, -matronly countenance, that she could see behind her, in the same manner -that the ever-feminine of our own species can see around a corner or -through a stone wall. Jenny’s intuition was marvellous. - -Chee-Wee was almost infinitesimal in size. He looked like a baby Rat and -was once taken for one by a lady book agent, with a very dignified -carriage, who penetrated the wilderness as far as my hermitage. I never -knew whose Nature Library she was canvassing for, because, at the first -glimpse of Chee-Wee, she took the brakes off her carriage and fled into -the next county. Those who think that women cannot run should have seen -this book agent. - -Chee-Wee was not many weeks old, but already he was beginning to study -in the school his mother taught. There are schools of Rabbits, just as -there are schools of Fish, though it is not so generally known. They -learn by whisker touching, the sense of smell, telegraphy with the hind -feet, and by another method which I shall explain later. - -The first thing Jenny taught Chee-Wee was to play dead. One thump means -“freeze.” Two thumps mean “follow me.” Three thumps mean “danger—run for -dear life,” and four thumps mean “come.” The politicians who have their -ears to the ground are many times only Unnaturalists in disguise, -listening for Rabbit thumps. Then, when a valuable franchise comes -along, they are in a position to grab it. - -One day Chee-Wee had a dreadful adventure. He was in the woods near my -cabin and Jenny was out foraging. She had put him in a _crèche_ under -the roots of a pine and told him not to move a muscle until she came. A -terrible serpent, with a very bright head, was close to Chee-Wee; a -peculiar, striped serpent that made him stiff with fright. He had read -in his little primer about garter snakes, and in his childish ignorance -supposed this was one. He was scared almost to death, but he had enough -presence of mind to thump for his mother, who instantly left her -shopping tour and hastened to his side. - -He was partially right, though it was not a Snake at all and had been -dropped by the lady book agent in her mad flight through the forest, -but, none the less, Chee-Wee was soundly spanked for turning in a 4:11 -alarm for nothing more than a smoking chimney, while his mother was -engaged in chasing up a bargain sale. - -Those who have not lived near enough to the animals to know what they -are talking about will think I have made Chee-Wee and his mother too -human, but that little band of choice spirits who study the -encyclopedias all Winter and get out a Nature Book apiece every Spring, -will know that I have not so abased my high calling as to be inaccurate -in even the smallest detail. - -A Rabbits best friend is his brier patch and he is seldom more than -eight and one half hops away from it. Jenny Ragtail used to carry a copy -of that beautiful poem, _Brier Rose_, in her reticule, so that she would -always have a place of refuge in time of trouble. I know this, because I -wrote the piece out for her myself from my book of _Parlour Elocution_. - -Jenny was devoted to Chee-Wee. She loved him nineteen times as hard as -she could have done if his eighteen little brothers and sisters, who -were published simultaneously, had not died of a fever before they were -a week old. This was an epidemic which raged fiercely among the -Squirrels and nearly spoiled all the Rabbit stew. He got nineteen times -as much schooling and learned nineteen times as much as he could -otherwise have done. This accounts for anything that may seem unusually -intelligent in the future conduct of Chee-Wee. - -First, she taught him geography. With a toothpick I gave her, she drew -out a singularly accurate relief map of the surrounding country in the -sand at my door. I still have the toothpick and a small bottle of the -sand, which I kept to convince the doubting ones. She was a week or more -in making it, and I fear that Chee-Wee would have been very restless, -had it not been for the little silvery minnow in a glass of water at -Jenny’s elbow, which interested him greatly. She kept it there in order -that her map might be drawn to scale. - -When the map was finished, I was allowed to inspect it, and it was -really wonderful, though it was not at all the kind of a map that I -should have drawn. She had marked the brier patches, the dens of -Woodchucks and Weasels, the kennel of a distant farmer’s Hound, and a -log in the middle of a pond. This latter place was marked by a small -piece of flag-root which bore the picture of a Rabbit’s hind foot, and -meant “Last Stand.” It was well named, for no animal but a loan shark -could have found them there. - -She taught him to comb his hair, brush his teeth, wash his face, paying -special attention to his ears, and to curl his tail up over his back, -like a Squirrel. It was the merest stub of a tail and Chee-Wee got -vertigo once from chasing it round and round trying to get a good view -of it. Their comb was an ordinary curry comb, which presumably had -dropped from the vest pocket of some canine pursuer. - -Jenny saved her own combings, putting them carefully away in a box made -of Squirrel bark. I noted afterward that she had stuck little bits of -fur on some of the thorns in the brier patch where she and Chee-Wee -lived, after the manner of Hop o’ My Thumb, who dropped pebbles in the -wood that he might find his way home again. This was to guide Chee-Wee -to the family residence in time of need. - -It is not generally known that Rabbits make a blanket to cover their -babies out of tufts of fur which they pick from themselves. Jenny’s -blanket was a beauty and exemplified the arts and crafts movement among -the Rabbits in a particularly striking way. - -The background was white, and on it, in bold relief, was a large brown -Rabbit, just vanishing around the corner of the blanket. Below was the -motto, “Always Keep Your Front Feet off the Landscape.” - -When this blanket was soiled, she washed it in the brook, using a bit of -soap bark on the more soiled places, and hanging it out to dry on a line -from home. Thinking that Chee-Wee might possibly take cold, I offered -her a small square of brussels carpet for them to sleep under. It was -the best I had, but she disdained the offering, and upon examining it -closely, I saw why. Neither of them could have slept under it, because -the nap was all worn off. - -Rabbits love rose bushes and even that fine, new, man-made rose bush -which climbs all over the country—the barbed wire fence. Jenny taught -Chee-Wee how to lead his enemies into the fence and how to take the -flying leap through the wires, leaving not so much as a tuft of fur -behind to tell the tale. That summer Chee-Wee killed two Dogs, a Weasel, -a Skunk, and three Bull Frogs, who were chasing him across the country, -at different times, of course, by leading them full blast into this -dangerous fence. Here they always hung until some of their mourning -friends or relatives would come and cut down the body. - -A Rabbit’s nose is exactly like the paper pin-wheels the children make -and pin to the end of a stick. When the children run, with the stick -held straight out in front of them, the pin-wheel whirls merrily, as -everyone knows. A Rabbit’s nose has an interior formation of precisely -the same size and shape, which revolves on an axis of cartilage at the -slightest movement of the wearer. Thus does Nature care for her -children. - -Chee-Wee would never eat anything until his mother had certified to the -quality of it. She always had to taste of it first, to be sure that it -was all right, and frequently he took the food out of her mouth, in this -way becoming very fond of hash. I have often seen them nibbling the ends -of a long blade of grass, coming closer and closer together as the grass -got shorter, and finally ending in a very loving kiss. It was both -pretty and touching. - -One cold day, I prepared some spaghetti according to Uncle Antonio’s -method, though the pipes that I bought in the village were not at all -like those that he took out of the interior recesses of his organ. We -had it for lunch, Jenny Ragtail, Chee-Wee, and I, and we all ate -heartily. - -I was never more forcibly convinced of the truth of the saying that -“What is one man’s meat is another man’s poison,” than I was that -afternoon. Personally, I never felt better in my life. A warm glow of -brotherly love pervaded my entire system, and there was enough spaghetti -left for my luncheon the following day, if I could summon up sufficient -self-denial to keep it that long. - -But in less than an hour, Jenny and Chee-Wee were both very sick. -Chee-Wee lay on the ground at the foot of a pine tree, and his mother, -pitiable though her condition was, hobbled off to the marsh for some -medicine. - -When she returned, weak and exhausted, she had a large quantity of -teaberries. She brewed these into a strong, bitter liquid over my fire, -with boiling water from my tea-kettle. She dosed Chee-Wee with it -liberally, then drank some of it herself. In half an hour, they were -capering around as usual, and I was much pleased with Jenny’s -cleverness. - -Seeing that the mixture was a good Hare tonic, I rubbed some on my dome -of thought where the thatching was thin, but it did not work in the same -way. - -The next day, when I brought out the plate of spaghetti for my luncheon, -intending to divide, as usual, with my guests, they both scampered off -at such a mad pace that I could see nothing but a cloud of dust and the -gleam of light from their white tails. I did not know that anything on -earth could go at such a pace as that, though my mother used to tell me, -when she was making my gingham shirts, that brown and white were always -fast colours. I believe it now, but I did not then, for those shirts -never used to get me to school on time during the swimming season, and, -indeed, often delayed me, with unaccountable knots in the sleeves. - -Chee-Wee soon grew into a good-sized Rabbit. He used to stand up on his -hind legs and bite the trees as high as he could reach. One tree, a few -feet from my cabin door, is scarred with these tiny teeth marks from the -height of one inch above the ground, where he could just reach when he -was a little baby Rabbit, up to three feet and eighteen inches from the -ground, which measured his height in his prime. - -Any Rabbit, passing through the woods, would know that he was on -Chee-Wee’s reservation, and would stop to measure his height on the -tree. If he was taller than Chee-Wee, he would go on, and when they met, -they would fight it out with claw and tooth and fang and the wild rush -through the long-burrows that honeycombed the earth beneath my cabin. If -the trespasser was not as tall as Chee-Wee, he would go away, taking -long jumps that he might not leave any tracks. - -This custom is also followed out by Bears, as any writer on the subject -will tell you. I am always willing to give my fellow Unnaturalists -credit for what they see. Goodness knows it is little enough, compared -with what I have done. - -Jenny’s school was near the lake, beyond a hill, and securely sheltered -from observation except from the water. When a canoe approached, they -all had plenty of time to hide before it came near enough to be -dangerous. These brown, fuzzy things are so much like the landscape that -they are fully protected. - -Usually, a Rabbit does not travel much in the daytime. They are -nocturnal animals and by day they sit in forms, or cases, that they have -made of grass and leaves and their combings and stationed in secluded -spots. When they get tired of living in one place, they change their -spots, but it always means the building of a new form. - -The Rabbits were not afraid of me, however, and I shall never forget the -day that I rowed up silently along the shore and came upon Mistress -Jenny’s school. The baby Rabbits were all sitting on toadstools, with -their spelling-books held up close to their faces. One little Rabbit -missed a word while I was looking on, and was promptly put to bed on -account of his sick spell, as was quite right and proper. - -There was a large map made on the hill just back of the teacher’s desk, -and a tin pail, freshly filled with water, stood in one corner. They -drank out of a nutshell, cunningly chiselled by sharp little teeth into -the shape of a cup, and many were the trips to the corner. How it -reminded me of my own schooldays! - -Another little brown Rabbit, who seemed to be a very naughty bunny, -brought a Spider to school and put it in Jenny’s desk while she was -teaching the youngest class to count. Jenny learned what she knew of -arithmetic from an old Adder that lived under a log in the woods. When -she saw the Spider, she instantly called the culprit to her, and in -plain sight of the whole school punished him severely with a lady’s -slipper that I had unaccountably missed from my flower bed. - -[Illustration: - - “In plain sight of the whole school, punished him severely with a - lady’s slipper.”] - -Under Jenny’s careful tuition, all these little Rabbits learned things -that their own parents would never have had time to teach them. Children -are born so fast in Rabbit families that there is never an opportunity -for any one set of children to learn more than the merest rudiments of -education, and this school of Jenny’s was like a University Extension -Centre in an Esquimaux village. My cabin became a general meeting place -for the Rabbits of the neighbourhood, and at length they got to be -rather of a nuisance. Uncle Antonio had taken my only pillow with him -for Jocko to sleep on—dear Uncle was always so considerate of -animals!—and I was forced to make a pair of overalls do duty instead. I -used to roll these up at night, with a stray feather or two in the -pockets, and put my weary head down over all. Usually, I knew nothing -more until morning, when Jenny and Chee-Wee would come and pat my face -with their soft, velvety paws, and tell me it was time to get breakfast, -and, please, could we have breakfast food this morning? - -I used to explain to them that anything that was eaten in the morning -was breakfast food, but they were as keen for good cereals as the editor -of a popular magazine. - -One night my overalls were stolen, so gently that I did not know it. I -looked all over the premises for them and could not find them. Jenny -seemed troubled also, and after breakfast she and Chee-Wee went out to -look for them. - -In about an hour, they returned, Jenny with the trouser legs in her -mouth and Chee-Wee bringing up the rear. I should never have known them -for mine, had not the autograph of the laundry marker been travelling -with the band. They were torn, and had as many small holes in them as a -fly screen. I was angry and was about to wage a war of extermination on -the entire Rabbit tribe, but Jenny pleaded with me so effectively that I -refrained. A Rabbit is very cunning when he sits up on his hind legs, -with his paws folded, and looks at you eagerly with his bright eyes. - -These are all minor details, however, and have been commonly observed by -others. The only discovery of real importance which I made that Summer -was in relation to the Rabbit method of communicating with each other. -Fellow-Unnaturalists have written of the thumping, the whisker touching, -and so-on. Some have even attempted to tabulate the thump code, but with -only partial success. - -My discovery is entirely new and has never appeared in any book before. -Briefly it is this. Rabbits converse with each other by means of a -deaf-and-dumb alphabet, very similar to that made by mutes of our own -species, using their ears entirely. - -I have not space here to elaborate upon it, nor to explain how I -happened to discover it, but the entire subject will be found in a -monograph which will be published in pamphlet form as soon as my paper -on _The Rabbit Grammar_ has been read before the International Society -of Registered Unnaturalists. - -Jenny was very clever at making me understand her, even without -resorting to her own language. For instance, one day I had given her a -handful of salt, in response to unmistakable signs and gestures on her -part. She tasted of it, sniffed, then sat down upon it and began to sway -from side to side. I understood then that she preferred rock salt and -immediately gave it to her, but was it not clever? Could a human being, -without the power of speech, have done more? - -Among themselves, the talk of the Rabbits was astonishingly easy and -informal. After I learned their language, by watching Jenny, Chee-Wee, -and the friends who used to call upon them, I heard, or rather saw, many -amusing things. All unconscious of my familiarity with their speech, -they used to discuss me in my own presence. - -Once, after a long and prolonged wig-wagging on the part of an old, -grey-whiskered Rabbit, I made out this: “Say, Jenny, what earthly good -is that blamed hermit to you? Haven’t you influence enough to get us -some corn?” - -With a rare gift of repartee, Jenny replied: “You’re nothing but a pig. -You’ve had so much corn now that you’ll have to ride in a grain elevator -if you ever get home.” This Rabbit lived high up in a hollow tree to be -out of the reach of draughts, as he was old and rheumatic, and so the -speech had a double-edged meaning that set all the company to sneezing -with suppressed mirth. - -Other observers have described a Rabbit entertainment, but I doubt if -any of them have ever seen such a one as fell to my lot to witness and -even take part in, the night before I left my home in the wilderness to -take my vacant place in the city. I do not know that I had been missed -in the city, but it was pleasant to think so when the Fall rains fell -upon me, and the woods had a penetrating chill which my bravest fire -could not subdue. - -I was packing, and Jenny and Chee-Wee sat sadly by, heartbroken at the -prospect of separation. When I packed my little pincushion, Jenny went -out and got a few pine needles to put in; when I gathered up my pens and -ink, Chee-Wee scampered away to his treasure box and brought the skin of -a Field Mouse for a penwiper. He had prepared and cured the skin -himself, and I have it still. - -I sat down on the side of my cot, and using the deaf-and-dumb alphabet, -I spelled out with my fingers: “I would take you back with me, but you -would not like the town, and I shall return next Summer.” - -Surprised beyond measure, they were dumb animals for a moment, then -Jenny’s ears began to work nervously. “We would not go,” she answered; -“we have Winter flannels and are very comfortable here. There is going -to be a party to-night. Will you not come?” - -“Gladly,” I returned, with all sincerity. “What shall I bring?” - -With one accord, Jenny and Chee-Wee ran to the opposite corner of the -cabin and sat down on my concertina. They did not know how to spell the -name of it, so they chose the more primitive manner of expression. - -At eight o’clock they called for me. They were freshly washed and -combed, had picked all the burrs out of themselves, and looked very -spruce indeed. - -We walked about eight miles to a clearing in the midst of the woods—a -clearing where some hunters had once camped. This is the kind of a place -that Rabbits love. I had matches in my pocket, and as soon as I got -there I gathered materials for a fire, and peeled a large, straight -piece of very white birch bark, which I set up on a forked stick behind -the cheerful flame. This rude reflector served very well, and threw -great pieces of ruddy light into the black shadows beyond us. - -There were about twenty Rabbits in the gathering, all of whom I knew by -sight if not by name. Some were brown and some were white, and there -were an equal number of ladies and gentlemen. - -While preparations were going on, the ladies and gentlemen promenaded in -couples around the clearing, arm in arm, doubtless whispering tender -nothings to each other. They were not afraid of me at all, and some of -them would even come and jump over my foot as it was stretched out in -front of me. - -The first number on the programme was a tug of war engaged in by the -gentlemen Rabbits, brown on one side and white on the other. The rope -was a long strand of Virginia creeper from which the leaves had been -stripped. The brown Rabbits won, and Jenny wig-wagged to me with her -curiously intelligent ears that the brown Rabbits were the stronger, -because they did not bathe as often as the white ones. This was very -interesting. I believe there was some old Greek who renewed his strength -every time he touched the ground, and the Rabbits seem to have caught -the idea. - -Then there was a hurdle race, a game of Leap Frog, another of Follow the -Leader, and a very fine game of Base Ball. The ball was a perfectly -round gourd which they had found somewhere, and at the proper time -Chee-Wee brought in a stuffed Bat, which gave great interest to the -game. The old rheumatic Rabbit did not play, but continually made love -to Jenny while the sport went on. Poor Jenny! I hope she had too much -sense to go and be an old man’s darling. - -Presently the moon came up and I let the fire go out. It had warmed the -clearing pleasantly, and the birch bark reflector was charred so much -that it was of no further use. - -Refreshments consisted of clover blossoms, dried, preserved rose petals, -and toadstools. The lady Rabbits did not eat the toadstools, and when I -asked Jenny why, she patted her stomach suggestively, and then with her -delicate ears spelled out to me that they took up too mushroom. - -I was enjoying myself exceedingly, and after the refreshments had been -cleared away a committee of the gentlemen waited upon me, and, not -knowing that I understood their language, pointed suggestively to my -concertina. - -I took up the instrument and began to play the cake-walk which had first -attracted Jenny to my side. Instantly the clearing was full of flying -feet, and those who were not dancing were thumping with their hind feet -and patting out the tune with their paws. One Rabbit, who seemed to be -the clown of the party, would dash around the clearing like the ponies -at the circus, now and then taking a high jump, or two or three -ungraceful hops in imitation of a Bear trying to dance. It was very -amusing. - -Round and round they went, their mobile noses whizzing like an -automobile as they passed. It was like nothing so much as fireworks of -brown and white fur. - -When I changed the tune, they changed their steps also. There was a -minuet, in which the ladies did themselves proud, and a quadrille in -which all joined but the rheumatic Rabbit, who knew the calls and thus -served the first useful purpose of the evening. To do him justice, -however, I believe that after he had eaten all the clover he could hold, -he took a few choice blossoms to a little brown mouse of a Rabbit who -seemed not to know anyone. - -While the ladies were cooling off, there was a boxing match between two -of the most athletic of the gentlemen, and it was declared a draw at the -end of the fifth round. These gay young bloods refreshed themselves with -liberal draughts of beer, which was very innocent, however, being made -of Frog hops. I tried it, but it was not to my taste, being clammy in -flavour and not cold enough. - -The play lasted till long past midnight, and I do not believe the merry -party would have broken up then had I not risen to go home. My little -furry friends clustered around me with many unspoken regrets, but I fear -that the loss of the concertina was uppermost in their thoughts. They -had never had music to dance to before. - -My suspicion was strengthened the next day when I finished my packing. -As before, Jenny and Chee-Wee came and camped on the instrument, -refusing to move when I attempted to put it into my suit case. A -generous impulse struck me, and, attracting her attention, I spelled -out: “You can use it this Winter if you will be very careful of it and -not leave it outdoors. I shall want it again in the Spring.” - -They forgot me, then, and dragged it away to some secret treasure-house. -Such was the ingratitude of the beasts that I never saw either of them -again, not to mention my instrument, but there are drawbacks in all -callings, so why should there not be in mine? When you come to think of -it, the work of a concertina is wholly composed of drawbacks. - -Sometimes on moonlight nights, when the earth is exquisitely still, I -fancy I see the Rabbits dancing in the clearing, and when a faint, -far-off melody comes to my listening ears, so delicate that it might be -fairies touching cobweb strings, I think perhaps it may be Chee-Wee or -Jenny Ragtail, playing on my lost concertina. - - - - - HOOT-MON - - -I was in the woods one night at twilight, sitting on a stump, with my -face hidden in my hands, thinking. I had written about everything I knew -for the magazines, and my work was still in demand, but, seemingly, -there were no new animals. - -While I was thinking, I was knocked senseless by a blow on the head. -When I came to, there was nothing in sight, and no tracks on the smooth -mould around me. Only the blood which streamed down my face convinced me -that I was not suffering from an hallucination. - -The doctor who sewed up my head gave me a very queer look when I told -him how it had happened, and then tapped his forehead suggestively. I -suppose he was endeavouring to comprehend the situation and was trying -to stimulate the place in which the phrenologists have located the -faculty of comprehension. - -After my head got well, I went out and sat on the stump once more, -determined to pursue my investigations at whatever cost. Just as I -expected, I was hit again, only this time not quite so hard. I chased -around madly through the underbrush, but, as before, I saw nothing. - -That night, when I got up to put another bandage on my aching dome of -thought, an idea struck me. “You blithering idiot,” said my inner -consciousness, “it was an Owl that hit you on the head!” - -Of course it was—what else should it be? I went to sleep much reassured, -and in the morning I determined to prove myself right. - -It must have been my head that attracted Hoot-Mon. Owls live on Weasels, -Rabbits, Squirrels, and Hares. At dusk I took my grandmother’s old Mink -muff, tied a long string to it, and went out to the stump. I poised the -muff airily upon the undergrowth and retired to a safe distance. Then I -imitated the Owl’s song and twitched the muff a bit. - -A great white shape swooped down and took up the muff in its talons, -tearing at it until the interior fell out. Greedily, the Owl ate of -this, then immediately coughed and disgorged the whole thing. I laughed -wickedly. “Hoot-Mon, my dear old friend,” said I to myself, “that is the -time you muffed it.” I was fully revenged for his attack upon me. - -I followed him to his nest, which was in a birch tree about three miles -from my cabin. I made no attempt to climb to it then, deeming the -location of it sufficient work for the time being. His home was there; -his watch-tower was a blasted tree which commanded my front door. - -A few days later I made the ascent. Very few observers have ever seen an -Owl’s nest. This one was not round, but long and narrow, with a great -bundle of feathers at one end for a pillow. Hoot-Mon was asleep, lying -flat on his back, with a blanket made of Rabbit skins over him, and -snoring audibly. In the bottom of the nest was a Hare mattress. I did -not disturb him, for he works at night and needs his sleep in the -daytime. - -An Owl is really a very peculiar beast and one that will amply repay -study. His sight and hearing are wonderful, and his eyes are just as -good by daylight as by dark, some amateurs to the contrary -notwithstanding. - -The next time you get hold of a stuffed Owl, part the feathers and -closely examine his ears. You will find that they are long, -crescent-shaped excavations in his face, coming to a point over his -eyes. They are barbed with hairs which act like telephone wires and -double and redouble the intensity of every sound. His eyes are set in -deeply, so that when he wants to look around, he has to turn his head. -He cannot see behind him like a Rabbit, or a Horse without blinders. - -An Owl’s stomach is also very peculiar. The alimentary tract is shaped -like a wide-mouthed vase, with no intervening crop, as in most Birds. -Hoot-Mon packs his food into the flaring top, which is his mouth, and -without chewing, crowds it with one foot down through the narrow -opening, into the bulb-shaped base. In his stomach is a gland which -secretes hydrochloric acid. - -With this he digests practically everything but fur and feathers. The -facile stomach rolls these into small balls and pushes them out through -that same door where in they went. - -In fact, you can track an Owl by these little balls of undigested -securities. Sometimes they incorporate them into the lining of the nest, -but more often build a wall, like the defence of a fort, around their -homes. Seeing so much fur, the enemy is not disposed to go any further. - -I have often seen an Owl sitting on the lower branch of a tree in the -early dusk, and throwing these balls to his children, one at a time, as -though they were bean-bags. Once, when I was watching, one little Owl -mistook one of them for a Mouse and ate it. The father laughed heartily, -knowing that the plaything would soon be returned in the original -package. - -The white Owls are very scarce, but I saw a great many of them that -year. Summer was very late, and they had flown around the Arctic Circle -until they got dizzy and had come down to chase each other around the -larger meridians. In the Winter, they get their living by fishing. I -have often seen a big white Owl, sailing around on a cake of ice which -perfectly matched his plumage, taking his ease like any fisherman in a -rowboat. - -They are very clever with their claws and will bait their hooks with -Worms and Frogs which they have caught in the Summer and kept on ice -until they were ready to use them. It is a charming sight to see a white -Owl bait his hook, toss his line overboard, and wait, with sublime -patience, until there is a nibble at the other end. You can almost hear -his wild eerie laughter as he draws in his catch and eats it, bones and -all, without stopping to cook it. - -One Winter when some fishermen spilled a cargo of dead Fish overboard, -the beach was so thick with white Owls that you could not see the sand. -They used nets and gathered in the Fish by wholesale, though sometimes -an Owl would sail out over the water like a Seagull, catch up a Fish in -his claws, and come back, laughing, amidst the plaudits of his -companions who were waiting in a row upon the shore. No other observer -has seen this on so large a scale as I have, according to the books, but -I have a photograph of the beach and of one of the Owls, which I shall -be glad to show to the doubting ones. - -Once, while I was shooting Ducks, I had a strange experience. My decoy -was a lady Duck with a string tied around her leg. I had fastened the -other end to my boat anchor to restrain her natural wandering -propensities. She was sailing around on the cold water, protesting at -her unhappy plight, when a big white Owl heard her profane remarks. - -He sat on a dead branch and giggled for a while, then began to make fun -of her. At this her composure vanished and she began to sob, so he -rushed to her, on his big, perfectly silent wings, lifted her up, gently -and tenderly, with one great claw, poising her body meanwhile against -his wing, and with the file on the inside of his other leg, deliberately -filed away my string and gave her her freedom. - -I thought she deserved it, so I said nothing, and the last I saw of -them, they were walking down the beach together, wing to wing, -coquetting like lovers on a moonlight night. I never shot any more -Ducks, and refused, ever afterward, to wear Duck trousers in the Summer -time. These garments are really a luxury, being made of canvasback Duck. - -[Illustration: - - “Coquetting like lovers on a moonlight night.”] - -In the Winter, the Owls nearly starve, and get so thin that they cannot -fly. Their big wings overbalance them, like a craft carrying too much -sail, and the wind carries them in every direction. In the Winter, if -the wind is right, you can stand on the beach any day and more Owls than -you can ever hope to study will blow almost into your arms. They are not -good eating, however, for in the early Spring and late Fall they live -mainly upon mussels and this makes their bodies too muscular to carve. - -They get so hungry in the Winter that they will even eat Cats. In this -way I once lost a very pretty black and white pussy to whom I was much -attached. A red Squirrel had hidden some walnuts in a little cave near -my cabin door, and while he was digging them up, the Cat saw him and -began to stalk him, merely by way of amusement. Hoot-Mon swooped down -upon poor pussy, and she nearly scratched his eyes out. Both were game, -but he finally killed her with a terrific blow on the head, such as he -once gave me, and bore her away in triumph to his nest. - -I was inconsolable, and with the fine instinct of the animal, Hoot-Mon -must have known it. Two weeks afterward I found on my doorstep one -morning a small, soft, furry ball. I unrolled it and discovered that it -was the complexion of my lost pet, nicely prepared, a necklace made of -her delicate teeth, pierced and strung on a fine wire, with a locket -made of her claws. It was very pretty and touching. I would have been -glad to have had one of her eyes, for a cat’s-eye scarf-pin, but that -was too much to expect. I had long known that Owls make an ointment of -Cats’ eyes, with which they rub their own. It is this that enables them -to see in the dark. - -Once I had a very peculiar adventure. I had caught a Rat in my cabin and -had buried the body just outside, in some sand. In the night I was -awakened by a prolonged clucking and a long drawn _whoo-oo-oo_, the -characteristic hunting note of the Owl. Fortunately it was bright -moonlight. - -I looked out of my window and there was Hoot-Mon, a big white furry -thing, clucking like a Hen and scratching furiously in the sand, which -rose in a cloud around him and nearly obscured him from my scientific -gaze. My quick, active mind immediately guessed that he was excavating -for the Rat, and when the dust subsided, I saw that I was right. He took -his prize and hurried away, still clucking. Two weeks later, he brought -me the ball representing the inedible portions, but this I threw away, -having no sentimental attachment for the Rat. - -It is interesting to see Owls eat. When they are very hungry, they are -savage about their food and tear it apart like the other wild things, -but when their eagerness is partially satisfied, they are as dainty -about it as any lady. Once I gave Hoot-Mon a bit of nicely broiled -beefsteak and he received it with unmistakable notes of pleasure in his -clucking. - -With the file which Nature has provided on the inner side of his right -leg, he cut it into small, neat morsels and ate it with his left foot as -though it were a fork. Afterward he came and wiped his beak upon my -handkerchief. He had evidently enjoyed the meal very much and for some -days he hung about my camp-fire, watching eagerly for more. - -The following week he flew into my presence with a long stake to which a -link or two of chain was still attached. I recognised it as the peg to -which a neighbour’s Cow was fastened in a distant pasture. He had filed -off the chain, dug up the peg, and brought me the beef stake in the hope -that I would broil it for him. With gestures I made him understand that, -even so, it would not be edible, and he flew away, broken-hearted. - -An Owl moves so silently that you can never see him come. Where other -Birds have feathers he has hair, and this makes no noise when he moves. -You can hear the rustle of a Duck’s wings, the flutter of a Sparrow or a -Lark, and the wind fairly screams through the Eagle’s pinions when you -spend a dollar, but the breeze makes no more noise blowing through an -Owl’s wings than it does in passing over your own head. - -Owls are as fond of Rats as Chinamen are. If you can only catch an Owl -you will need no Rat-trap, for he will clear the premises of the vermin -in no time. I caught Bre’r Hush-wing once when I was a boy and put him -into our oat bin. When I went to get him again he was dead from -indigestion. I dissected him and found the heads of eighteen Rats in his -stomach. The skins of twenty-three more were tacked up around the oat -bin with their own claws. - -I have devoted the preliminary part of this paper to the general nature -and habits of the Owl in order that my readers may fully understand what -is to follow. I do not claim that my Owl was more brilliant than the -Owls of my fellow Unnaturalists, but only that I had superior -opportunities to study. When a Little Brother of the Woods sees anything -that I have missed, I do not call him a liar, and I expect others to pay -the same courtesy to me. - -I became so interested in Owls that I determined to spend the Winter in -my cabin. The Snowy Owl is abroad only in Winter—in Summer he is grey. -Nature changes his flannels for him to make him feel safer. “Death loves -a shining mark.” - -For two weeks and more I went to town every day, and each time brought -home all the provisions I could carry. I bought more ink, a ream of -paper, and a dozen blue pencils also, in order to anticipate the -editors. - -It is terrible to live in the woods and see Winter come. The Birds and -Squirrels go south at the first sign of changing foliage, but the -Rabbits, Weasels, Minks, and other small furred creatures remain. There -was no snow until late in December, but it was bitterly cold. When I -went out, my breath froze in lateral chunks and I would have to break -off the icicles with a hatchet before I could get into my cabin. I had -no idea that I breathed so much until I saw it in solid form. I had -piled enough wood at my back door to last an army all Winter, and I was -very glad indeed that I had it when the first snow fell. - -It was an unusually heavy storm for so early in the season, being nearly -two feet deep on the level. Nothing was left for the little creatures of -the woods but the rose hips, the seeds of the pine cones, and each -other. Indeed, it was scanty fare. - -That night while I lay in my warm bed, with the fire blazing merrily -upon my hearth, I heard the deep, long-drawn, sonorous notes of an Owl. - -Something in the sound filled me with foreboding. I felt that a -fellow-creature of mine was out in the woods starving. The impulse was -strong upon me to get up, put on my snow-shoes, and go out to find him, -but my reason battled steadily against it. - -The mournful cry was repeated, closer still, and at last I got up, threw -open the door wide, and imitated the sound as nearly as possible. Almost -immediately, cold, wet wings beat against my face and a big white Owl, -more dead than alive, fell full length on the floor of my cabin. - -I grasped my brandy bottle and poured a liberal quantity down the Bird’s -throat. Presently he sat up, blinked, dragged himself over to the fire, -and bowed twice to me, very gravely, as though to say, “Thank you.” - -All that night we sat there, watching each other. By nature we were -enemies; by force of circumstances we were friends. - -Toward morning Hoot-Mon got up and tried to dance, but fell over and -went to sleep instead. I fixed him up a bed on the floor and lifted him -over on to it. There he stayed, snoring loudly, until the middle of the -afternoon. Then he awoke, sighed heavily, yawned, and rubbed his eyes -with the backs of his hands. - -“Well, Hoot-Mon,” I asked, “do you feel better?” - -He came to me, sat down on the table in front of me, and nodded, with -something very like a smile upon his face. It could not rightly be -characterised as an exact smile, because he was too preternaturally -solemn. - -I fed him, then opened the door. “Do you want to go now?” I inquired. -With a scream of dismay, he flew back into the darkest corner of the -cabin and refused to budge. I understood then. He had made up his mind -to live with me. - -The next day, he found my watch and took it out from under my pillow. He -seemed greatly interested in the mechanism and held it to his ear that -he might hear it tick. I did not especially mind, for the wild animals -had always taken up my time, more or less, but I hid my jewelled -repeater and gave him the alarm clock, which did just as well. In time -he learned to set the alarm and would laugh like a Parrot when I jumped -out of my chair at the unexpected report. - -All that Winter, Hoot-Mon and I lived together. Often he got hungry for -his own kind of food, and at such times I would put on some red flannel -stockings I had made for him, without feet, a red flannel shawl, pinned -closely at the throat, and a face mask, also of red flannel, with -openings for the eyes and beak and those wonderful ears of which I have -spoken before. - -He got so that whenever he wished to go hunting, he would search out -these articles from the corner of the cabin where they were kept,—never -forgetting the safety-pin that fastened the shawl,—bring them to me, and -stand very still while I put them on. - -He usually had conspicuous success upon these hunting trips. He would -come back with three or four beach Rats, two Rabbits, the body of a -belated Squirrel who had not yet gone south, and more Weasels and -Muskrats that a person could count without more knowledge of arithmetic -than I had. Hoot-Mon would skin all of these animals, preferably doing -the work in the house, and then he would store them in a natural cave of -ice just beyond the wood-pile. - -He gave the skins to me, and I made a quilt of them for my cot. He -usually ate his own food raw, but once he dropped a Muskrat into the pot -in which I was making an Irish stew, and laughed loud and long at my -language when I took it out. - -He had many mischievous tricks and would often hide my pens, tip over my -ink and track it all over the fair, smooth pages of my observation -ledger. At other times, he made himself very useful to me, especially on -sweeping day. Strutting around gravely on one leg, Hoot-Mon would sweep -the floor first with one great wing and then with the other, pushing the -dirt always toward the door. When he had it all in a neat pile and the -corners were perfectly clean, he would make a signal to me. I would open -the door, and with a great, forward sweep of both wings, Hoot-Mon would -brush all the dirt outside, meanwhile saying something that sounded like -“shoo!” It was clever of him, but it wearied him greatly and he would -always take a long nap afterward, though he never slept on my bed. I was -very grateful to him because he was willing to sleep in his own corner, -remembering a previous unhappy experience. - -That Winter, also, he made me a rag carpet. I had a great many pieces of -old worsted garments, some of them being left by my grandmother and -others being discarded wearing apparel of my own. I had also an old red -blanket which I could not sleep under because there was a large hole in -the centre which acted like a chimney and created a draught. Some white -cotton cloth was among the pieces, and I gave him two old sheets, with -which he was greatly pleased. - -First, he tore all the cloth into strips about half an inch wide, -fastening these together with a pine needle and some linen thread I gave -him, and with his claws and beak rolled it into a ball very similar to -those made in his stomach. When he had the rags all torn and sewed -together, he began work, and I do not think, in all my career as an -Unnaturalist, I have ever seen such wonderful intelligence in an animal. - -I can never describe the way he did it, though I watched him for hours, -uninterruptedly. With claws and beak and wings he was continually at -work, tying knots, twisting, weaving in and out, rolling and turning in -every conceivable way. Finally he turned his back to me and would not -let me see what he was doing. - -Respecting his wish for secrecy, I paid no further attention to him -then, but the next time he went hunting I hunted for his work. I did not -find it, but when he came back, he knew instantly what I had been doing -and pecked my face so severely that the blood came. He also opened up -the old wound on my head. Needless to say, I did not offend him in that -way again. - -He worked nights, after that, while I slept. Many a time I have wakened -and seen poor, faithful Hoot-Mon sitting by the fire, patiently toiling -at his self-appointed task. - -On the morning of my birthday, he presented me with a wonderful rug, a -yard wide and long enough to go across the cabin directly in front of my -bed. The background was red and black and in the centre, entirely in -white, was an enormous Owl with outstretched wings—his own portrait to -the life! - -It was marvellous that he should do it with only the primitive -implements with which Nature had provided him, and I praised him early -and often. When I stroked him and patted his head, he would strut around -with his head in the air, purring and clucking. - -This story may seem almost incredible, but I have the rug and a -photograph of the Owl that did it. These things will be on exhibition at -the time and place printed in the catalogue in the appendix. Both my -publishers and myself will be glad to have all the doubting ones -investigate. The entire “H” exhibit will be distinguished by the green -flag of Ireland, because the things came from the “owld” country. - -Hoot-Mon was very much interested in my hat and used to kick it around -the cabin and play with it as a Kitten plays with a ball of yarn. I -determined to make him one of his own and cut out a paper pattern, -fitting it together with pins. I made one of the cocked hats worn by -Colonial soldiers, and put a gay feather in the top. The result was very -pleasing, to me, at least, and all went well until I attempted to put it -on Hoot-Mon’s head. - -He snorted loudly, clawed, kicked, and spluttered like an angry Hen. His -eyes glared so fiercely that I was afraid of him and ran outdoors, cold -as it was, without hat or coat. I stayed until his wrath had somewhat -subsided, then cautiously ventured back. He had burned the offending hat -in the open fire and the ashes of it lay upon the hearth. He sat on his -perch in the corner, wrapped in impenetrable gloom through which his -eyes burned like live coals. - -It was not until the next day that I learned why he had been so mortally -offended, and I hit upon the truth only by accident. I had unfortunately -selected foolscap paper for the pattern. I had legal cap in the house -and could have made him a lawyer’s bonnet just as well as not, if I had -only thought of it. - -Strangely enough, Hoot-Mon and I never had any well defined method of -communication, though we lived together in intimate association for so -long. - -I tried him with the deaf-and-dumb alphabet, but he paid no attention to -it. I wrote out the various things I wished to say to him and offered -him the slips of paper, but he did not eat them or try to read them, and -in memory of the insult I once offered him, I presume, he threw the -slips into the fire as fast as I could write them. He had no ears that -he could wig-wag signals with, and his own vocabulary was confined to -two or three syllables, the phrasing and intonation of which varied -scarcely at all. - -He presented a strange bundle of contradictions, for he was slow witted -at times, yet did not understand English, and too quick to jump at -conclusions at others, yet the United States language passed him by -unharmed. He ate Frogs but did not understand French, sausage and beer, -without knowing German, and though he roosted by preference in the -attic, he did not know Greek. He was very fond of oatmeal, but he had -not the faintest comprehension of Scotch, though I caught him once, with -my spectacles on, poring over a book of Scotch dialect which I had in my -library. He burned the book afterward, which I did not in the least -regret—I had meditated doing it for some time. - -I tried him with phrases from every known tongue, but they all seemed -alike to him. He did not have a speaking acquaintance with a single -modern language, so far as I was able to discover. Very possibly he -understood them all, but did not wish to let people know the extent of -his knowledge. Perhaps it is his monumental silence which has given him -his well deserved reputation for wisdom. At any rate, it contains a hint -worth passing on, for there is a great deal of trouble in this world -which is not caused by people keeping their mouths shut. - -So Hoot-Mon and I lived through the most terrible Winter ever known in -that latitude. The unaccustomed warmth of the cabin made him moult while -the snow was yet deep upon the ground. He ate the feathers, afterward -disgorging them in the usual ball when he had enough to make it worth -the trouble. I have all of these little balls now, put away with my most -treasured possessions. - -He was a pitiful sight when all of his feathers were gone, and he caught -cold. His cough distressed me greatly and his spirits drooped -perceptibly. He had chills at regular intervals and his poor body was -all covered with goose flesh. He wore his shawl, pinned closely at the -throat with a safety-pin, until the feathers began to sprout again. -While his head was moulting, he also wore his face mask. - -Presently, however, Nature resumed business at the old stand and his -body was covered with grey down. He looked like an Angora Cat at this -stage. I examined the growth minutely with a magnifying-glass and was -surprised to find that each feather grew up from a single stalk, like a -plant, and sent out numerous branches which were closely interwoven with -the branches from the stalk next to it. This is why an Owl’s wings make -no sound; the wind passes under these branched feathers and the noise is -smothered. You cannot hear the wind blow if you have a pillow over your -head. - -At last the backbone of Winter broke with a loud crash and the Chinook -wind blew in from the south, laden with warm rain. The songs of Robins -and Bluebirds were in the breath of it, though the snow was yet deep -upon the ground, and my dooryard was filled with hungry Birds. - -“Who would not give a Winter seed for a Summer song?” - -I went out one day, with my shovel, and Hoot-Mon followed me, warmly -wrapped in his shawl. I chose the lofty stump that was his watch-tower -and began to shovel a clear space. He sat on top of it, well out of -reach of draughts, and watched me. I intended to keep a free lunch set -out here for the Birds. - -Round and round I shovelled, keeping always in a circle. Hoot-Mon never -took his eyes off me—his devotion was absolutely pathetic. When I had -finished, I galloped around the stump a few times to get warm, as it was -still bitterly cold. - -I began to get dizzy, but I went on faster and faster, for the blood was -singing in my pulses and it was good to be alive. I was stopped in my -mad rush by the most astounding thing that could have happened. - -Hoot-Mon’s head, bleeding profusely, and with the eyes staring from -their sockets, fell at my feet. On the stump, still clad in the shawl, -was his lifeless body. - -I was stunned, and it was more than an hour before I saw how it had -happened. It was my own fault; no one but myself was to blame. An Owl -will turn his head, but never his body, and Hoot-Mon had followed me -around the stump with his fond eyes until he had wrung his own neck. - -It was too terrible, and I am not ashamed to say that a man’s salt tears -bedewed the downy body of my pet as I lowered him into his grave. I made -him a shroud of my only remaining sheet and covered him with my last -pillow slip. I did not begrudge them to him in the least, and I still -have his red flannel shawl. This pathetic relic will be found by the -reader in its proper place in the exhibit. - -The shocking occurrence saddened me so much that I gave up my study of -Unnatural History and returned to the city, where I speedily found some -honest employment which paid me fairly well. - -At times, the voices of the wilderness call me, but I dare not go back, -lest the old magic of the woods take my spirit into slavery again. - -Sometimes, at night, I start from my sleep, thinking that poor -Hoot-Mon’s bleeding head is again at my feet. It is a consolation, -however, to know that he did not suffer any more than a spring broiler -which is prepared for the market, and, after all, it may have been a -kinder fate than the one which was waiting for him somewhere in the -gloom of the tall pines, for the end of a wild animal is always a -tragedy. - - - - - APPENDIX - - -Realising that much of this work must, of necessity, seem almost -incredible to all save genuine Little Brothers of the Woods, I have, at -great expense and difficulty, secured for exhibition purposes a -collection of relics which will fully substantiate every statement I -have made. - -This exhibition will be an annual affair, and will be held in the main -office of my publishers, on the thirty-first day of November only. - -Admission is free to all who hold a copy of this book under the left -arm. Copies are not transferable. - -The complete catalogue will be found on the following pages. - -[Illustration: wolf drawing] - - - - - CATALOGUE - - - Printed at a Logging Camp on Genuine Wood Pulp Paper. - - A1 Photograph of Tom-Tom taken just before we went to the woods. - A2 Photograph of grandmother’s cabin in the clearing. - A3 Picture of Little Upsidaisi. - A4 Mainspring of my jewelled repeater. - A5 One of Tom-Tom’s boots. - A6 Umbrella with which I wrote messages in the sand. - A7 Straw from the broom, slit at one end. - A8 Cat egg, blown. - A9 Square of red blanket. - A10 Returned manuscript. - A11 The same. - A12 The same. - A13 Another one. - A14 Cigar box in which Little Upsidaisi slept. Notice tail slot. - A15 Morse Code, in my writing. - A16 Empty cyanide bottle. - A17 Postage stamp, such as is used for manuscripts (cancelled). - B1 Photograph of Porcupine Hill. - B2 Picture of the post-office. - B3 Porcupine quill. - B4 Goatsrue, dried. - B5 The empty flask. - B6 An unpaid bill. - B7 Broken link from chain filed by Jagg. - B8 Pen-and-ink sketch of Ab. - B9 Jagg’s hat. - B10 Photograph of Jagg’s headstone. - C1 Cotton, such as I put into my ears. - C2 Copy of _The Ladies’ Own_ (much worn, but still legible). - C3 The prescription. - C4 Copy of _The Girlies’ Close Companion_. - C5 Literary note from _New York Times_, date appended. - C6 Bear trap, half size. - C7 Geyser House, from hotel advertisement. - C8 Slab of near-food, motto, “Excelsior.” - C9 Astronomical charts of Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. - C10 Pen-and-ink sketch of Snoof and Snooflet, star-gazing. - C11 Story of Goldenhair and the Three Bears, type-written. - C12 Bottle of water from the sulphur spring, where Growler bathed. - C13 Comb, such as is used by Bears. - C14 Miranda’s china mug. - C15 My clothes, which Growler wore. - C16 Miranda’s croquet mallet. - D1 Receipted hotel William (framed). - D2 Enlarged portrait of Kitchi-Kitchi. - D3 A home-made biscuit. - D4 Blue Jay feather. - D5 Music of Squirrel duet, melody only. - D6 Squirrel egg, blown. - D7 Boat from Squirrel fleet. - E1 Picture of Jim Crow. - E2 Photograph of broken window. - E3 Section of crowbar. - E4 Crocus bulb. - E5 Eye of potato, in alcohol. - E6 Fragments of the clay cast. - E7 Jim’s crutch. - E8 Cornet half full of molasses. Guests may blow it free. - E9 Spectacle frames. - E10 Pressed burdock leaf. - E11 Poe’s poem, _The Raven_ (Arnheim edition). - E12 The cordial glass. - E13 My diamond pin (in glass case). - E14 Section of Johnny-cake, main formation. - E15 Photograph of perch. - E16 Picture of me, showing crow’s feet around eyes. - E17 Milk pan. - E18 Malted milk bottle. - F1 Pen drawing of Uncle Antonio’s organ. - F2 Score of _Il Trovatore_. - F3 Pressed foxglove. - F4 Pen sketch of Hoop-La, from memory. - F5 Pen drawing of imaginary encounter between Uncle and a cross country - tramp. - F6 Bottle of capers. - F7 Sketch, from memory, of the quilt pattern. - F8 A new cent, 1904 mintage. - F9 Recipe for spaghetti, written in gold, framed, and chained to the - counter. Guests may obtain permission to copy at cashier’s desk. - F10 Photograph of horse in bridle chamber. - F11 Impressionist picture of the rescue of Jocko. - G1 My concertina, in picture in catalogue. - G2 Score of _Bedelia_. - G3 Copy of _Uncle Remus_. - G4 Snake discovered by Chee-Wee. - G5 _Brier Rose_ (my writing). - G6 Toothpick. - G7 Bottle of sand. - G8 Pen sketch of Jenny drawing map. - G9 Better picture of same thing, _Wild Animals I Have Known_, page 122. - G10 Minnow, stuffed. - G11 Curry-comb, used by Rabbits. - G12 Box of Squirrel bark. - G13 Drawing of Jenny’s blanket. - G14 Square of Brussels carpet with nap gone. - G15 Working drawing of Rabbit’s nose. - G16 Bottle of Hare tonic (sealed). - G17 Rabbit form. - G18 Drawing from memory of Jenny’s school. - G19 My overalls. - G20 Drawing of Rabbit entertainment. - G21 Superior picture of same thing, _Ways of Wood Folk_, page 50. - G22 Bottle of beer made from Frog hops (open). - H1 Remnants of grandmother’s Mink muff. - H2 Diagram of Owl’s nest. - H3 Working drawing of Owl’s stomach. - H4 Crystals of hydrochloric acid. - H5 Undigested securities. - H6 The same. - H7 More. - H8 More. - H9 The same. - H10 Another one. - H11 Picture of beach. - H12 Picture of Owl. - H13 Pen drawing of Owl and Duck, flirting. - H14 Owl file, petrified. - H15 Mussel, in alcohol. - H16 Skin of poor pussy. - H17 Necklace and bangle. - H18 The beef stake. - H19 Blue pencil. - H20 Empty brandy bottle. - H21 Alarm clock. - H22 Page from observation ledger, showing Hoot-Mon’s tracks. - H23 The rug. - H24 Photograph of Hoot-Mon, life size. - H25 Sheet of foolscap. - H26 Pattern of Colonial hat. - H27 Hoot-Mon’s shawl. - H28 Rabbit’s tail in alcohol. (This exhibit has the words, “A tragedy,” - lettered on the bottle, being the end of a wild animal.) - - - - - BY MYRTLE REED - - - Lavender and Old Lace - - 12º. (By mail, $1.60) net, $1.50 - Full crimson morocco, in a box ” 2.00 - Gray ooze leather, in a box ” 2.50 - Lavender silk, in a box ” 3.50 - -“A rare book, exquisite in spirit and conception, full of delicate -fancy, of tenderness, of delightful humor and spontaneity. The story is -too dainty, too delicate for analysis.... It is a book to be enjoyed, -and it is so suitably clad that its charm is enhanced.”—_Detroit Free -Press._ - -“With exquisite skill, quite her own, the author individualizes in this -gracefully told story, the heart’s devotion as the most exalted and -exalting emotion. Miss Reed has the rare genius of attuning love to -thrilling heights without a touch of coarse materialism. Withal she -builds on a practical place, since her characterization is -human.”—_Chicago Journal._ - - - The Spinster Book - - 12º. Gilt top. (By mail, $1.60) net, $1.50 - Full crimson morocco, in a box ” 2.00 - -“A gem in a dainty, attractive, and artistic setting.... Miss Reed is -delightfully witty, delightfully humorous, delightfully cynical, -delightfully sane, and, above all, delightfully spontaneous. The pages -sparkle with bright, clear wit; they bubble with honest, hearty humor; -they contain many stings, but no savage thrusts.... A magazine of -epigrams for a rapid-firing gun.”—_Philadelphia Telegraph._ - - - Love Letters of a Musician } - } Two Vols. - Later Love Letters of a Musician } - - - 12º. Gilt top each, $1.75 - Full crimson morocco, in a box ” 2.50 - -“Miss Reed’s books are exquisite prose poems—words strung on -thought-threads of gold—in which a musician tells his love for one whom -he has found to be his ideal. The idea is not new, but the opinion is -ventured that nowhere has it been one-half so well carried out. The -ecstacy of hope, the apathy of dispair, alternate in these enchanting -letters, without one line of cynicism to mar the beauty of their -effect.”—_Rochester Herald._ - - - The Shadow of Victory - - A Romance of Fort Dearborn (early Chicago) - - 12º. With frontispiece net, $1.20 - Full crimson morocco ” 2.00 - -“A sweet and wholesome as well as highly artistic novel, deserving of -the highest praise. A story that warms every reader’s heart and makes -him regret that he has reached the end.”—_Nashville American._ - -“An astonishingly vigorous story.”—_N. Y. Sun._ - - - The Master’s Violin - - Uniform with “Lavender and Old Lace.” - - 12º. Gilt top net, $1.50 - -This is a captivating love story written in Miss Reed’s happiest vein. -The thousands who have enjoyed the gentle humor and delicate sentiment -of “Lavender and Old Lace” will find the same qualities expressed in -“The Master’s Violin.” - - - The Book of Clever Beasts - - Studies in Unnatural History - - Fully illustrated by PETER NEWELL - - 12º. - -A humorous book, hitting off the many writers who have returned to -Nature and made intimate friends in the Animal World. The author -describes the super-human intelligence to be found by the discerning -among our kindred of the wild. All those who love gentle humor will be -entertained by the whimsical story of “Little Upsidaisi,” and no reader -can fail to laugh at the antics of “Jagg, the Skootaway Goat.” - -The illustrations by Peter Newell are in this clever artist’s happiest -vein and bring out to the full the humor of the text. - - - - - New York—G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS—London - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE - - -Punctuation has been normalized. 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