foot from the ground, plainly to warm and dry themselves in the sun, having muddied it all over. I also saw where one had sunned himself on a stone at the foot of a small pitch pine, and tried his teeth on a dead limb of the pine. They could not go in or out of these sandy burrows without being completely covered with sandy mud. The path over the snow between these holes was quite covered with it. They have but four toes on the fore feet with the rudiment of a thumb. The woodchuck's first journey then appears to be to some neighboring hole which he remembers a dozen or fifteen rods off, and, perchance, he goes as straight or unerringly to it as if he had not been asleep all winter. Apparently, after a little gossiping there, his first work is to clear out the entrance to his burrow, ejecting the leaves and sand which have there collected. None have traveled beyond these holes, except that one track leads into the swamp. But here are the tracks of foxes bound on longer journeys. They are generally ten or twelve inches apart lengthwise, by three to five wide,•••••but are irregular, now two at the usual distance, then two close together or three or four inches apart only. The foot is very shapely, much like a dog's.
March 16, 1858. . . . . A still, foggy, and rather warm day. I heard this morning. . . . .
