following the
same path, first to a mossy stone, then to a dark hole under a root,
then to a low brake, and along the underside of a billet of wood to
the mouse table. There she would stuff both cheeks hurriedly, till
they bulged as if she had toothache, and steal away by the same path,
disappearing at last under the shred of gray bark.

For a long time it puzzled me to find her nest, which I knew could not
be far away. It was not in the birch log where she disappeared--that was
hollow the whole length--nor was it anywhere beneath it. Some distance
away was a large stone, half covered by the green moss which reached up
from every side. The most careful search here had failed to discover any
trace of Tookhees' doorway; so one day when the wind blew half a gale
and I was going out on the lake alone, I picked up this stone to put in
the bow of my canoe. That was to steady the little craft by bringing her
nose down to grip the water. Then the secret was out, and there it was
in a little dome of dried grass among some spruce roots under the stone.

The mother was away foraging, but a faint sibilant squeaking within the
dome told me that the little ones were there, and hungry as usual. As I
watched there was a swift movement in a tunnel among the roots, and
the mother-mouse came rushing back. She paused a moment, lifting her
forepaws against a root to sniff what danger threatened. Then she saw
my face bending over the opening--Et tu Brute! and she darted into the
nest. In a moment she was out again and disappeared into her tunnel,
running swiftly with her little ones hanging to her sides by a grip that
could not be shaken,--all but one, a delicate pink creature that one
could hide in a thimble, and that snuggled down in the darkest corner of
my hand confidently.

It was ten minutes before the little mother came back, looking anxiously
for the lost baby. When she found him safe in his own nest, with the
man's face still watching, she was half reassured; but when she threw
herself down and the little one began to drink, she grew fearful again
and ran away into the tunnel, the little one clinging to her side, this
time securely.

I put the stone back and gathered the moss carefully about it. In a few
days Mother Mouse was again at my table. I stole away to the stone, put
my ear close to it, and heard with immense satisfaction tiny squeaks,
which told me that the house was again occupied. Then I watched to find
the path by w