Explore "Travels in Alaska" by John Muir on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
On the trail to the steamboat-landing at the foot of Dease Lake, I met a Douglas squirrel, nearly as red and rusty in color as his Eastern relative the chickaree. Except in color he differs but little from the California Douglas squirrel. In voice, language, gestures, temperament, he is the same fiery, indomitable little king of the woods. Another darker and probably younger specimen met near the Caribou House, barked, chirruped, and showed off in fine style on a tree within a few feet of us.
"What does the little rascal mean? " said my companion, a man I had fallen in with on the trail. "What is he making such a fuss about? I cannot frighten him."