The squirrels were not quite so gay now as in the autumn days, when they danced upon the branches and whistled and chuckled over the good things to eat and the curious sights to see. They slept with their warm tails wrapped over their noses.
They still ran busily through the tree-tops, except when snow or icy rain kept them shut within their holes. They ate all the nuts they could find, and dug up the buried pine cones. They climbed the hemlock trees and ate the seeds.
Once the smallest squirrel happened to dig up a heap of nuts from between two stones under the snow. He could not remember whether he had hidden them himself or not. How he squealed when he saw them!
Late in the winter the squirrels had eaten all the nuts and cones within reach. They were so hungry on many a day that they tried to creep into a chipmunk’s hole and steal his store of food. But he was smaller than they were, and he had wisely made one bend in his tunnel too small for them to pass.
Then they had to live on bark and seeds till spring started the tender green plants to growing.
The squirrels gnawed the bark of the maple trees and drank the sweet sap that came oozing out. Later there were elm buds to nibble and birds’ eggs to suck. The woods were once more green with juicy leaves.
All the squirrels went to housekeeping. Soon in almost every tree there was a family of squirrels peeping out with their round, bright eyes.