Gathering courage, he ventures down the trunk again, churring
and chirping, and jerking nervously up and down in curious loops, eyeing
you all the time, as if snowing off and demanding your admiration.
Finally, growing calmer, he settles down in a comfortable posture on
some horizontal branch commanding a good view, and beats time with his
tail to a steady "Chee-up! chee-up!" or, when somewhat less excited,
"Pee-ah!" with the first syllable keenly accented, and the second drawn
out like the scream of a hawk,--repeating this slowly and more
emphatically at first, then gradually faster, until a rate of about 150
words a minute is reached; usually sitting all the time on his haunches,
with paws resting on his breast, which pulses visibly with each word. It
is remarkable, too, that, though articulating distinctly, he keeps his
mouth shut most of the time, and speaks through his nose. I have
occasionally observed him even eating Sequoia seeds and nibbling a
troublesome flea, without ceasing or in any way confusing his "Pee-ah!
pee-ah!" for a single moment.
While ascending trees all his claws come into play, but in descending
the weight of his body is sustained chiefly by those of the hind feet;
still in neither case do his movements suggest effort, though if you are
near enough you may see the bulging strength of his short, bear-like
arms, and note his sinewy fists clinched in the bark.
Pages:
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267