E MARK IS ATTACKED BY A WOLF--MIKE SAVES HIM, AND WE
PROCEED ONWARDS.

We had only lately, as I have already said, arrived at our new location.
My uncles had been imbued with the restless spirit of backwoodsmen, and
Aunt Hannah was ready to do whatever Uncle Stephen wished. So, having
grown weary of the life at Watfield, where we had at first been located,
they had resolved, along with several other inhabitants of that place,
to push westward; and after making their way through forests, rivers,
and swamps, and over hills and plains, had formed the new settlement
where Uncle Stephen now was, and which they had named Greenford.

To the hut where Uncle Mark and I lived no name had been given; but he
expressed his belief that it would one day become the centre of a great
city. "Before that day arrives, however, you and I, Roger, will have
moved far away westward," he observed.

I used to exercise diligence while I was at work, in order that I might
have more time to attend to the study of natural history. My great
delight was to get away into the forest and observe the habits of its
various inhabitants. Often would I sit on the root of an old tree
watching the playful squirrels at their gambols. When I spied a hole in
which I knew that a family were likely to have taken up their abode, I
would hide myself; and before long I was generally rewarded by seeing a
"papa" squirrel poking out his nose. Soon he would give an inaudible
sniff, sniff, sniff, then out would come his head, and he would look
round to ascertain whether danger was near. Presently I would catch
sight of his thick furry body and lovely brush, the tail curling over
his head. Then another nose would appear, and large shining eyes; and
out another would pop; followed in rapid succession by the whole family.
Then, how delightful it was to watch them frolicking about, darting
round the trunks, sending the bark rattling down as they chased each
other; whisking their tails; darting along the boughs, and bounding
fearlessly from branch to branch. One, reaching the end of a bough,
would spread out its arms and tail, exhibiting the white fur beneath,
and fly down to a lower branch, or to the earth below, followed by its
companions; then away they would go along the logs or swinging vines,
and up another trunk, quick as lightning. Sometimes I would catch them
at their supper, nibbling away at the nuts which they had plucked, or
had dug out of the ground with