e moss and dead leaves. Every moment or
two he would stop, and jump to the log to see if I were watching him.

Presently he ran to my canoe, sprang upon the gunwale, jumped back
again, and ran along the log as before to where he had been digging. He
did it again, looking back at me and saying plainly: "Come here; come
and look." I stepped out of the canoe to the old log, whereupon Meeko
went off into a fit of terrible excitement.--I was bigger than he
expected; I had only two legs; kut-e-k'chuck, kut-e-k'chuck! whit, whit,
whit, kut-e-k'chuck!

I stood where I was until he got over his excitement. Then he came
towards me, and led me along the log, with much chuckling and jabbering,
to the hole in the leaves where he had been digging. When I bent over
it he sprang to a spruce trunk, on a level with my head, fairly bursting
with excitement, but watching me with intensest interest. In the hole
I found a small lizard, one of the rare kind that lives under logs and
loves the dusk. He had been bitten through the back and disabled. He
could still use legs, tail and head feebly, but could not run away.
When I picked him up and held him in my hand, Meeko came closer with
loud-voiced curiosity, longing to leap to my hand and claim his own, but
held back by fear.--"What is it? He's mine; I found him. What is it?" he
barked, jumping about as if bewitched. Two curiosities, the lizard
and the man, were almost too much for 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 h