noe
and lets the wind do his work for him.

That would be the sight of a lifetime, to see Meeko sailing his boat;
but I have no doubt whatever that it is true. The only red squirrel
that I ever saw in the water fell in by accident. He swam rapidly to
a floating board, shook himself, sat up with his tail raised along his
back, and began to dry himself. After a little he saw that the
slight breeze was setting him farther from shore. He began to chatter
excitedly, and changed his position two or three times, evidently trying
to catch the wind right. Finding that it was of no use, he plunged in
again and swam easily to land.

That he lives and thrives in the wilderness, spite of enemies and hunger
and winter cold, is a tribute to his wits. He never hibernates, except
in severe storms, when for a few days he lies close in his den. Hawks
and owls and weasels and martens hunt him continually; yet he more than
holds his own in the big woods, which would lose some of their charm if
their vast silences were not sometimes broken by his petty scoldings.

As with most wild creatures, the squirrels that live in touch with
civilization are much keener witted than their wilderness brethren.
The most interesting one I ever knew lived in the trees just outside my
dormitory window, in a New England college town. He was the patriarch of
a large family, and the greatest thief and rascal among them. I speak
of the family, but, so far as I could see, there was very little family
life. Each one shifted for himself the moment he was big enough, and
stole from all the others indiscriminately.

It was while watching these squirrels that I discovered first that they
have regular paths among the trees, as well defined as our own highways.
Not only has each squirrel his own private paths and ways, but all the
squirrels follow certain courses along the branches in going from one
tree to another. Even the strange squirrels, which ventured at times
into the grove, followed these highways as if they had been used to them
all their lives.

On a recent visit to the old dormitory I watched the squirrels for a
while, and found that they used exactly the same paths,--up the trunk of
a big oak to a certain boss, along a branch to a certain crook, a jump
to a linden twig and so on, making use of one of the highways that I
had watched them following ten years before. Yet this course was not
the shortest between two points, and there were a hundred other br