Everything went well that happy day. We found a hole high up in the beech-tree bole which, with a little hollowing out, made a simply perfect residence. It was close under a large branch, which gave splendid protection from the weather. We wasted no time in setting to work, and by evening had scraped out enough of its rotten sides to make a chamber about nine inches each way. Next day we lined it with dry leaves and grey moss, which we stripped from the lower part of the trunk. But our labours were by no means at an end. Squirrels are rarely content with one residence, and my experience, short as it had been, had made me plainly understand the advantage of having several. Crossing over into a larch on the opposite side of the path, we built a drey on a large flat bough at a good height above the ground. This was all of selected sticks, and was well roofed in. It had a hollow floor and a conical roof, the sticks composing the roof being carefully interlaced in order to keep out the rain. It had an entrance on the east side and a bolt-hole on the west, and to close the doors at night, or in cold weather, we provided plenty of moss and soft grass fibre to make stoppers. The only incident of note during these pleasant days was my getting a horrid fright through accidentally digging up a slow-worm which had not yet left its winter-quarters in the hedge bank where I was pulling up grass roots. Ever since my adventure with the viper I have had a perfect horror of snakes. Not, of course, that a slow-worm is a snake, or in any way dangerous, but still, it looks detestably like one. It seemed odd at first, only two of us in our new home, instead of the four who had snuggled together during the long winter in the old beech-tree. But we were far too busy to be dull, and we often saw mother and the rest of our relations. Mother was very pleased with our match, and equally so with the two others in our family, for not only had Rusty found a wife, but Cob and my sister Hazel had set up housekeeping together. It used to amuse me, the air of proprietorship which Sable exhibited in our tree. I really believe that she considered the whole of it belonged to her, root, trunk, and branch. Any stranger squirrel who ventured to intrude had a bad time indeed. He or she was promptly chased off the premises without any ceremony whatever.