him. I never saw a squirrel more excited. He had evidently found
the lizard by accident, bit him to keep him still, and then,
astonished by the rare find, hid him away where he could dig him
out and watch him at leisure.

I put the lizard back into the hole and covered him with leaves;
then went to unloading my canoe. Meeko watched me closely. And
the moment I was gone he dug away the leaves, took his treasure
out, watched it with wide bright eyes, bit it once more to keep
it still, and covered it up again carefully. Then he came
chuckling along to where I was putting up my tent.

In a week he owned the camp, coming and going at his own will,
stealing my provisions when I forgot to feed him, and scolding me
roundly at every irregular occurrence. He was an early riser and
insisted on my conforming to the custom. Every morning he would
leap at daylight from a fir tip to my ridgepole, run it along to
the front and sit there, barking and whistling, until I put my
head out of my door, or until Simmo came along with his axe. Of
Simmo and his axe Meeko had a mortal dread, which I could not
understand till one day when I paddled silently back to camp and,
instead of coming up the path, sat idly in my canoe watching the
Indian, who had broken his one pipe and now sat making another
out of a chunk of black alder and a length of nanny bush.
Simmo was as interesting to watch, in his way, as any of the wood
folk.

Presently Meeko came down, chattering his curiosity at seeing the
Indian so still and so occupied. A red squirrel is always unhappy
unless he knows all about everything. He watched from the nearest