not content with this simple
division, have again subdivided them into other sub-genera, using very
difficult names to distinguish them. In our little sketch we shall
simply call them by the three names above-mentioned.

The _Squirrels_, properly so called, are not only tree-climbers, but, as
every one knows, dwell habitually upon trees, and there make their nests
and their home. And perfectly at home they are among the highest
branches; for under no circumstances do they ever miss their footing, or
are they in the slightest danger of falling. In fact, they can not only
run with the greatest agility along the branches, but equally well with
their backs downward; and can spring from branch to branch, and also
from tree to tree, over wide intervals of many yards. They can also
leap down from the tops of the tallest trees to the earth--a feat often
witnessed by squirrel-hunters--and do so without the appearance of
having received the slightest injury; for, without pausing a moment on
the ground, they continue their flight towards some other tree, where
they expect to find better shelter from the short gun or rifle of their
human enemy.

The squirrel builds a nest in the tree, similar to that of some birds;
but they have also in the same tree a more secure retreat in case of
being pursued. This is a hole in the trunk or one of the larger limbs--
some natural excavation caused by the decaying of a branch--in short,
what is termed a "knot hole," which is common in many kinds of timber.
In this hole the squirrel usually lays up its store of winter food,
consisting of nuts, beech-mast, etcetera; and here it takes refuge when
hunted, finding the tree-cave a safe asylum. Unless decoyed out again,
or, which often happens, _frightened_ out again, by rubbing the trunk
with a piece of stick, the squirrel must escape scot-free nine times out
of ten, since no hunter would think of felling a huge tree to procure so
insignificant a reward as the carcass of a squirrel; and without felling
the tree, and splitting it up, too, the creature could not be reached.
Various devices, however, are practised to decoy it forth; and these,
unfortunately for the little refugee, too often succeed.

The squirrels are the life of the American woods--indeed, a journey
through these great forests would often be very monotonous were it not
enlivened by the presence and gambols of these beautiful creatures; and
in the depth of winter, when the squirr