flash Little Thief was back in his knot hole and the comedy
began all over again.

I never saw how it ended; but for a day or two there was an unusual
amount of chasing and scolding going on outside my windows.

It was this same big squirrel that first showed me a curious trick
of biding. Whenever he found a handful of nuts on my windowsill and
suspected that other squirrels were watching to share the bounty, he had
a way of hiding them all very rapidly. He would never carry them direct
to his various garners; first, because these were too far away, and the
other squirrels would steal while he was gone; second, because, with
hungry eyes watching somewhere, they might follow and find out where he
habitually kept things. So he used to bide them all on the ground, under
the leaves in autumn, under snow in winter, and all within sight of the
window-sill, where he could watch the store as he hurried to and fro.
Then, at his leisure, he would dig them up and carry them off to his
den, two cheekfuls at a time.

Each nut was hidden by itself; never so much as two in one spot. For
a long time it puzzled me to know how he remembered so many places. I
noticed first that he would always start from a certain point, a tree or
a stone, with his burden. When it was hidden he would come back by the
shortest route to the windowsill; but with his new mouthful he would
always go first to the tree or stone he had selected, and from there
search out a new hiding place.

It was many days before I noticed that, starting from one fixed point,
he generally worked toward another tree or stone in the distance. Then
his secret was out; he hid things in a line. Next day he would come
back, start from his fixed point and move slowly towards the distant one
till his nose told him he was over a peanut, which he dug up and ate or
carried away to his den. But he always seemed to distrust himself; for
on hungry days he would go over two or three of his old lines in the
hope of finding a mouthful that he had overlooked.

This method was used only when he had a large supply to dispose of
hurriedly, and not always then. Meeko is a careless fellow and
soon forgets. When I gave him only a few to dispose of, he hid them
helter-skelter among the leaves, forgetting some of them afterwards
and enjoying the rare delight of stumbling upon them when he was
hungriest--much like a child whom I saw once giving himself a sensation.
He would throw his penny on the g