It is doubtful if any southwestern chipmunks enter true hibernation during the winter. Those of lower elevations are active throughout the colder months, except when a period of exceptionally inclement weather will force them to remain underground for a few days. At higher elevations they will disappear, perhaps for weeks at a time, but it is assumed they remain active in their underground quarters. The fact that during the fall they do not lay on a coat of fat, like many species which are known to hibernate, substantiates this theory. Breeding habits of chipmunks are not too well known. The number of young averages from four to six. Those species living at low elevation sometimes bear two litters each year; those at higher elevations are limited to one. Like the ground squirrels, the young are able to leave the burrow when but little more than half grown. At this early age they present a rather ludicrous appearance with their large heads and sparsely-haired tails. This is a time of great danger, for the youngsters are easily caught by predators which would be eluded with little difficulty by a mature individual. Principal predators of the chipmunks are bobcats, hawks, foxes, and coyotes. The last two often dig out the burrows. The marten is possibly their worst enemy, but fortunately for the chipmunk tribe is a rare animal throughout its range. Chipmunks are quite common in several of our southwestern National Parks and Monuments. Despite signs to the contrary, the public cannot resist feeding these little beggars, and many are the situations that develop from this practice. I recall camping at Bryce Canyon National Park where the least chipmunk is a common resident. Upon our return from Rainbow Point one day we spied a chipmunk with bulging cheek pouches leaving our tent for its den somewhere on the edge of the canyon rim. We found that our visitor had entered the grub box and gnawed a neat hole in the top of a carton of rice. Although we had been gone but a short time, more than half the contents had already been carried away. This was a state of affairs that needed mending so we decided to teach the marauder a lesson. On his return trip we waited until he had entered the carton and then clapped a dishtowel over the hole. The cellophane window in the side of the carton gave us an excellent view of our prisoner. Interrupted in his pilfering, he at first tried to get out of the carton but, finding no exit, returned to stuffing his cheek pouches with more rice. When they were filled to capacity he calmly sat back and returned stare for stare. In the end we let him go and gave him the rest of the rice, exacting such payment as we could by taking pictures of his labors. Golden-mantled ground squirrel _Citellus lateralis_ (Latin: citellus, swift, and lateralis, belonging to the side, referring to the stripe along the side)