,
whistled tauntingly and went in. This occurred several times, the old
dog marching up the hill, and then marching down again, having had his
labor for his pains. I suspect that he revolved the subject in his mind
while he revolved the great wheel of the churning-machine, and that
some turn or other brought him a happy thought, for next time he showed
himself a strategist. Instead of giving chase to the woodchuck when
first discovered, he crouched down to the ground, and, resting his head
on his paws, watched him. The woodchuck kept working away from the hole,
lured by the tender clover, but, not unmindful of his safety,
lifted himself up on his haunches every few moments and surveyed the
approaches. Presently, after the woodchuck had let himself down from one
of these attitudes of observation, and resumed his feeding, Cuff started
swiftly but stealthily up the hill, precisely in the attitude of a cat
when she is stalking a bird. When the woodchuck rose up again, Cuff was
perfectly motionless and half hid by the grass. When he again resumed
his clover, Cuff sped up the hill as before, this time crossing a fence,
but in a low place, and so nimbly that he was not discovered. Again the
wood chuck was on the outlook, again Cuff was motionless and hugging the
ground. As the dog nears his victim he is partially hidden by a swell in
the earth, but still the woodchuck from his outlook reports "all right,"
when Cuff, having not twice as far to run as the 'chuck, throws all
stealthiness aside and rushes directly for the hole. At that moment the
woodchuck discovers his danger, and, seeing that it is a race for life,
leaps as I never saw marmot leap before. But he is two seconds too late,
his retreat is cut off, and the powerful jaws of the old dog close upon
him.

The next season Cuff tried the same tactics again with like success; but
when the third woodchuck had taken up his abode at the fatal hole,
the old churner's wits and strength had begun to fail him, and he was
baffled in each attempt to capture the animal.

The woodchuck always burrows on a side-hill. This enables him to guard
against being drowned out, by making the termination of the hole higher
than the entrance. He digs in slantingly for about two or three feet,
then makes a sharp upward turn and keeps nearly parallel with the
surface of the ground for a distance of eight or ten feet farther,
according to the grade. Here he makes his nest and passes the winter,
ho