The Life Story of a Squirrel by T. C. Bridges - HTML preview

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CHAPTER V
 
BACK TO THE WOODLANDS

About four in the afternoon of the next day I was lying half-asleep in my cage in the bowling-alley when a sound in the distance made me spring up, quivering all over with excitement. Next moment the door burst open, and in rushed Jack. He never even waited to take off his hat or gloves, but ran up the long room, and flung open my cage door. With one bound I was on his shoulder, nosing him and biting his ears and hair in a perfect transport of delight, and I think he was just as glad as I was.

Presently his sister’s voice called him from behind. He turned and kissed her, and with me still on his shoulder, followed her to the Hall, where the Squire and Mrs. Fortescue were at tea.

After this Jack and I became more inseparable than ever. He had holidays—these days—and I simply lived in his pocket. The next afternoon there was great excitement. I heard every one congratulating Jack, though of course I did not in the least comprehend why his mother and sister hugged and kissed him, and the Squire solemnly shook hands with him. It was just as well for me that I did not realize what had happened, or those lovely September days would have been the most miserable instead of the happiest in the whole of my life; for Jack had passed an examination with the result that in a few weeks he would have to go and live and work in London—a dreadful place, I understand—where it is all houses and no trees, where the sun never shines, and where the only wild creatures that exist are those cheeky, chattering thieves, the sparrows.

Harry, too, was always with his brother at this time, and they talked more than I had ever known them to do before.

The two were very serious one day, lying on their backs beneath the trees on the lawn while I ran all over them both impartially. And from the way in which they turned to me and caught me up every now and then, as well as because I heard my own name frequently spoken, I came to the conclusion the conversation had something to do with my fate. And there was no doubt it had, for it was after this time they all left the Hall, and when I visited it again there were strangers—but I mustn’t go on too fast. I fancy Jack urged Harry to keep me while he himself was away, and Harry shook his head; perhaps he was afraid I might mope away, as I did before in Jack’s absence, and end by dying. Anyway, a gloomy silence settled again between the brothers. At last Jack started up and waved his hand energetically in the direction of the wood; then, springing to his feet, he called to me to come to him. I had leaped away in affright at his sudden movements, to which I never could get accustomed, but I returned again at once. Jack had quite sense enough to know squirrels mate for life, and the young ones usually stay with their parents all the winter; and he knew, what I did not, that mother and Hazel and Rusty would still be in the coppice to greet me, and teach me all the wild-wood lore, even though my father was dead.

The brothers argued for some time over my prospective fate, but I did not really understand until later, when their actions showed me what they meant. I had leaped from Jack’s shoulder during this weighty conversation, and was enjoying myself hugely, tearing round and round the two boys, and making an occasional dive into Jack’s pocket after the nuts and grains of wheat and maize which were always to be found there. But, after all, I was not taken away to the woodlands at once.

Three or four days later Jack again got up very early, and as he dressed I could hear out on the drive a great grinding of heavy wheels. As Jack hurried down he took me on his shoulder instead of putting me in my cage. His brother joined him on the stairs, and they walked down side by side, as solemnly as two old crows.

The hall was full of crates and matting, and men in green baize aprons were turning everything upside down. Outside, in the ring, were great vans almost as big as cottages. The boys hardly wasted a glance on these things, but hurried past, and next moment were striding away across the dewy grass of the lawn.

I was amazed at being taken out so early, but all the same very much delighted, and sat on my master’s shoulder chattering with joy. Neither brother spoke, but walked steadily on under the long morning shadows of the tall elms until they reached the ha-ha which cut the garden off from the park. Jumping down the sunk fence, they turned to the right, passed under the shadow of the wall of the kitchen-garden, and along beside the laurel plantation beyond. A wicket-gate led through the park fence and into a large field, in which red cattle were grazing.

Strange memories began to stir in my breast as a line of tall, thick timber came in sight on the far side of the meadow; and when my master jumped the little brook and walked up over some broken, sandy ground where the white scuts of rabbits bobbed among the bracken, towards the tall magpie hedge beyond, my heart was beating so violently that I could only sit quite still upon his shoulder and stare about me in a sort of mazed bewilderment.

On through the gate, and at once we were plunged into deep, damp coolness. All the half-forgotten odours of moss and bracken and rotting wood, and a hundred other woodland scents, rose to my distended nostrils and almost overpowered me. Just then I could not have moved for the life of me.

Harry was the first to break the silence.

‘That’s where I saw the little beggars the other day, Jack,’ he said softly, and pointed to a tall beech-tree whose leaves, just beginning to yellow with the first chill of autumn, hung motionless in the still morning air.

Then they both seated themselves on a mossy log and waited, still as two dormice. The wild things of the woods, frightened into silence at these early morning intruders, gradually regained confidence. A rabbit popped out of his hole and began feeding on the close turf, on which the autumn dew-spangles gleamed in a patch of sunshine which struck through the leafy canopy overhead. A shrew-mouse, intent on some business of his own, bustled noiselessly across the path; a woodpecker started his tap, tap, tap, as he industriously probed a rotten branch for his breakfast of fat grubs; two jays began calling harshly, and presently the flicker of their brilliant blue plumage glanced through the greenery. As for me, I had crept off Jack’s shoulder, and, sitting up straight on one end of the log, was struggling desperately to take it all in.

The boys never moved nor spoke, but presently Harry touched his brother gently, and pointed very cautiously towards the beech-tree. I, too, was gazing with all my eyes up into the tree, my heart throbbing more violently than ever, for down the smooth grey bark a patch of red-brown fur was softly stealing with slow, deliberate steps, clutching tightly at unseen footholds with outstretched claws. The boys saw him, and so did I, but we none of us moved. As for me, my feelings were beyond words.

Nearer he came, and now I saw that he was almost my own double. His head was stretched out at right angles to his body, and his eyes, bright as two jewels, were fixed upon me with intensest curiosity. Presently he reached the lowest bough, and there stood motionless as I was, and staring at me with a strange intensity. The calls of kindred were clamouring in my veins, and all of a sudden the spell was broken. Without one backward look at my dear master, I jumped from the log, raced across the ground between it and the tree, and with one rattle of claws was up on the huge, lowest branch.

But behold! the apparition which had attracted me had disappeared, and I stared round in fresh wonder. Suddenly came a little sharp cry, and down from the leaves above me dropped—my mother herself! She gave a sharp bark of astonishment.

Then I remembered! A mad transport of joy thrilled me through and through, and with one wild dash I tore away up the tree, corkscrewing madly round and round the huge trunk in the way we squirrels have when joy is beyond expression.

Mother was with me, and next instant a third squirrel joined in our mad frolic. It was my brother Rusty, the squirrel whom I had seen first of all, and had failed to recognize after our long separation. Before I reached the top, yet a fourth frantic dot of red fur was flashing round and round, barking madly, and I knew her for my sister Hazel. I think we were all quite mad with joy for the time being, and we never ceased our crazy scamperings until, quite out of breath, we landed all together in a fork among the branches high up in the leafy summit of the tall beech-tree. There we sat and began a talk that lasted I don’t know how long. It was the most curious thing. I had been away from them all so long, and become so accustomed to human talk, that I could hardly make my family understand my adventures, and they, on their part, were surprised beyond measure that any of the humans, whom they had so long looked upon as their hereditary enemies, could possibly have been so kind to me. But at last they had all my story, and then, and not till then, did the recollection of Jack come back to me.

When I announced my intention of going down again to find my master, mother evidently thought I was quite out of my senses.

‘But you have escaped. Surely you do not want to go back to live in your prison!’ she urged.

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THE BOYS NEVER MOVED OR SPOKE.

I explained all over again what a good friend he had been to me, how he had saved my life, how he had fed me with all sorts of dainties; indeed, I strongly recommended her and my brother and sister to come with me. There was plenty of room, I said, and I waxed enthusiastic over the unlimited supplies of nuts, and fruit, and grain without any trouble in looking for them.

It was not the slightest good. Mother declared that the notion of living inside burrows—for that was her idea of a house and its rooms—was altogether detestable, and only fit for rabbits and humans, and would most certainly kill her in a very short time. All I could do, after much urging, was to persuade my family to come down to the lower branch and watch me go and talk to Jack.

Rusty was quite ready—he always had a bold, determined streak about him; but mother and Hazel hung back. When we got down, there was my dear master sitting where I had left him, all alone. Harry had left. His face lighted up when he saw me hopping along the branch above him, and he gave the little whistle I knew so well, and stood up. Running to the pendent tip of the branch, I made a flying leap, and landed clean on the top of his cap.

‘Why, Nipper, Nipper,’ he said, taking me on his hand and stroking me fondly, ‘I almost thought you had forgotten me!’

I nibbled his finger lovingly by way of apology, and signified that I was quite ready for a nut. It was promptly forthcoming, and then as I ate it he put me down on the log, and walking softly towards the tree, turned out two pockets stuffed with the finest hazel-nuts, and piled them by handfuls into a hollow as high as he could reach.

Then he sat down again beside me, took me up and talked to me, and petted me for a long time. At last, very slowly and reluctantly, he put me back on the branch from which I had leaped down.

‘Good-bye, old chap,’ he said in a queer, unsteady voice, and suddenly turned and walked quickly away.

To say that I was astonished would be putting it mildly. I was absolutely thunderstruck, but after a minute made up my mind it was some new kind of game, and prepared to follow.

‘Scud! Scud!’ I heard mother call, but I paid no attention. Running along the branch as far as it would bear, I made a flying leap into the next tree. It had been my dear father’s boast that he could travel from one end of our coppice to the other without once touching ground, and indeed I found no difficulty in doing the same. I was so excited that I thought nothing of jumps of six times my own length, for Jack was walking very fast, and I was in a dreadful fright that I might be left behind.

At the gate he turned and saw me. He stood a moment irresolute, then quickly vaulted the gate and started off across the field. At this I grew quite desperate, and dropping into the hedge scuttled along it, reached the gate-post, and sitting straight up gave one sharp bark. At that my master turned again and hurried back.

‘Oh, Nipper, why can’t you go home?’ he muttered, and picking me up, walked very fast back to the big beech-tree.

‘Good-bye, once more, old fellow,’ he said stooping over me, and suddenly I was startled by a drop like rain falling on my head.

Looking up in amazement, I saw my dear master’s face twisted as though in pain; but before I could make up my mind what was the matter, he suddenly pitched me gently back into the hollow where he had put me before, and brushing his sleeve across his face, fairly ran away down the path. Before I well realized what had happened, he was lost to sight among the trees.

As soon as I recovered a little from my astonishment, I started a second time for the gate; but before I reached it Jack was half-way across the field, and travelling so fast that I knew I could never catch him; and besides, I had always been terribly afraid of the ground ever since my escape from the terrier.

I don’t think that ever in my life have I felt so utterly miserable as when I realized that my master had abandoned me. You see, I could not understand it at all, and my one sensation was an utter and overwhelming loneliness. Gradually, too, I became frightened. I had never been alone out of doors before, and this was all so different to the Hall garden. The field seemed a vast green desert, and behind me the wood an illimitable rustling mystery full of unseen perils. How long I sat there straining my eyes after the vanished form of my master I do not know, but what roused me at last was a sudden rustle behind, which made me start violently. However, it was only Rusty, who had followed me, and was seated on a swinging hazel-bough in the hedge, staring at me in a perplexed fashion.

‘What’s the matter, Scud?’ he asked at last.

I told him I felt very forlorn now that my master had left me. My brother could not believe that I wanted to follow him; such a thing was quite beyond his comprehension.

When I assured him it was true, Rusty looked as solemn as if he was now certain that I had quite taken leave of my senses.

‘What! You want to go back and live in those burrows when you’ve got all the wood to roam in!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’ll be shot if I can understand you! Do you mean that you’d rather spend your time all alone in a place you can’t get out of than go foraging round with us all day as free as—as’—Rusty’s imagination failed him, and he paused—‘well—as free as a squirrel, for there’s no other creature in the woods that is as free as we are.’

I reminded him that I was used to being protected, and had never experienced anything but the utmost gentleness from Jack and his family.

‘Yes, I know. I’m sure he is quite different from those red-faced brutes who broke our nest down and killed poor father,’ replied Rusty. ‘And he has left us nuts enough for a month. But all his kind are so big and so dull. They can’t climb trees like us, or jump;’ and my brother made a splendid spring down to my side just to show what he could do. ‘It’s no kind of life for a squirrel. My brush, but I should have taken the first chance to run off and come back home!’

Then he gave a sudden low cry of warning, and instinctively I followed him as he bounded back into the thick of the hedge just as a hen sparrow-hawk stooped like a falling stone out of the blue above, reaching the grass by a tuft of gorse a little way out in the field. There was a sharp cry, cut short almost before it was uttered, and then the feathered robber rose again, bearing in her crooked talons the struggling form of a linnet. A few small feathers floated away through the still, warm air, and all was over. The hawk sailed away towards a distant tree with her meal tight clutched between her claws.

It was long since I had seen one of these everyday woodland tragedies, and it made me realize with a shock that now I had myself only to depend upon, with no strong human hand to aid me. Frightened and unhappy, I followed Rusty quietly back into the heart of the coppice, and that night saw me one of a furry ball of four, curled in a hole in the heart of the great beech.