hich Mother Mouse came to her own. When her cheeks were
full, she disappeared under the shred of bark by her usual route. That
led into the hollow center of the birch log, which she followed to the
end, where she paused a moment, eyes, ears, and nostrils busy; then she
jumped to a tangle of roots and dead leaves, beneath which was a tunnel
that led, deep down under the moss, straight to her nest beneath the
stone.

Besides these older mice, there were five or six smaller ones, all shy
save one, who from the first showed not the slightest fear but came
straight to my hand, ate his crumbs, and went up my sleeve, and
proceeded to make himself a warm nest there by nibbling wool from my
flannel shirt.

In strong contrast to this little fellow was another who knew too well
what fear meant. He belonged to another tribe that had not yet grown
accustomed to man's ways. I learned too late how careful one must be in
handling the little creatures that live continually in the land where
fear reigns.

A little way behind my tent was a great fallen log, mouldy and
moss-grown, with twin-flowers shaking their bells along its length,
under which lived a whole colony of wood mice. They ate the crumbs that
I placed by the log; but they could never be tolled to my table, whether
because they had no split-eared old veteran to spy out the man's ways,
or because my own colony drove them away, I could never find out. One
day I saw Tookhees dive under the big log as I approached, and having
nothing more important to do, I placed one big crumb near his entrance,
stretched out in the moss, hid my hand in a dead brake near the tempting
morsel, and squeaked the call. In a moment Tookhees' nose and eyes
appeared in his doorway, his whiskers twitching nervously as he smelled
the candle grease. But he was suspicious of the big object, or perhaps
he smelled the man too and was afraid, for after much dodging in and out
he disappeared altogether.

I was wondering how long his hunger would battle with his caution, when
I saw the moss near my bait stir from beneath. A little waving of the
moss blossoms, and Tookhees' nose and eyes appeared out of the ground
for an instant, sniffing in all directions. His little scheme was
evident enough now; he was tunneling for the morsel that he dared not
take openly. I watched with breathless interest as a faint quiver nearer
my bait showed where he was pushing his works. Then the moss stirred
cautiously close besid