their imprint everywhere, sometimes showing a clear leap of ten
feet. They had regular circuits which we crossed at intervals. The
woods were well suited to them, low and dense, and, as we saw,
liable at times to wear a livery whiter than their own.

The mice, too, how thick their tracks were, that of the white-footed
mouse being most abundant; but occasionally there was a much finer
track, with strides or leaps scarcely more than an inch apart. This
is perhaps the little shrew-mouse of the woods, the body not more
than an inch and a half long, the smallest mole or mouse kind known
to me. Once, while encamping in the woods, one of these tiny shrews
got into an empty pail standing in camp, and died before morning,
either from the cold, or in despair of ever getting out of the pail.

At one point, around a small sugar maple, the mice-tracks are
unusually thick. It is doubtless their granary; they have beech-nuts
stored there, I'll warrant. There are two entrances to the cavity of
the tree,--one at the base, and one seven or eight feet up. At the
upper one, which is only just the size of a mouse, a squirrel has
been trying to break in. He has cut and chiseled the solid wood to
the depth of nearly an inch, and his chips strew the snow all about.
He knows what is in there, and the mice know that he knows; hence
their apparent consternation. They have rushed wildly about over the
snow, and, I doubt not, have given the piratical red squirrel a
piece of their minds. A few yards away the mice have a hole down
into the snow, which perhaps leads to some snug den under the
ground. Hither they may have been slyly removing their stores while
the squirrel was at work with his back turned. One more night and he
will effect an entrance: what a good joke upon him if he finds the
cavity empty! These native mice are very provident, and, I imagine,