SON OF THE WIND
away with the cedar leaves she was tossing down the hill. "Sunset, moonrise, sunrise—those are different. I've come, though mother hated it, since I was quite a little girl. I come out here still once in a while at sunrise, you can't guess what for."
In spite of himself he was aware of suspense.
"To watch squirrels play." The mischievous bright face of a child peered provokingly through the woman's. "You think that is silly, don't you?" she asked, noting his relaxation of interest.
"Very! You can see squirrels play anywhere at any time of day."
"Ah, that shows how little you know about squirrels. They are too busy through the day—they have to work. Sunrise is their party. Over there on the hill opposite, and at the foot of this one there are lots of holes. I sit up here and see their heads pop out. I see their eyes first, and the next thing they are all up. They are as much fun to watch as rabbits, though they don't skip so high. If I keep perfectly quiet sometimes they come to the edge of the grove."
"And you tame them, I suppose?" For his life. he couldn't keep the irony out.
"No!" she scorned him. "I hate tame things. I love them to be wild!"
"Indeed?" His alert mind caught a significance
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