FRISKY THE MISCHIEVOUS SQUIRREL

Floyd Bralliar

There is also a story about Frisky in Zip the Coon.

Chapter 1

 FOR several days, I had noticed a squirrel running in and out of a hole in an old tree, but thought little of it. Not only was the weather cold, but there was rain almost every day; not common, gentle rains, but cold, dreary downpours that drenched everything. Any sensible squirrel might be expected to live much in a hollow tree in such weather, especially if the hole opened where the rain could not come in, as did the hole in this tree.

As I passed the tree, going to and from my meals, I often tossed pieces of whole wheat bread to this squirrel, which she always took with evident pleasure, and held in her dainty hands while she ate them. Should I toss her a piece of white bread, she would nibble off the crust if there was any, then toss the remainder away as though it were not good enough for a squirrel to eat.

In this way, we became good friends; so good in fact, that when I came near, she kept about her business without paying the least attention to me unless she was hungry, when she would stop to beg. This will perhaps explain my being able to see the following incident.

One afternoon, the weather had cleared and the sun was shining brightly. The elm buds were swelling, and the first red maple trees were already showing green. My squirrel had gone to the top of a nearby elm tree for, a supper of elm buds. I noticed her swinging on the small twigs, and pulling the buds to her with her hands, seeming to be having a great feast.

Suddenly she let loose of the twigs she was swinging on, and dropped to a limb below, caught it, and ran down the tree to the ground as fast as she could go. Then she raced away across the lawn like a flash. I had no idea a squirrel could run so fast.

At first, I could not think why she should be running so hard; but soon I saw that she was chasing something which looked like a young rat. She quickly caught up with it and pounced on it as a cat would pounce on a mouse. There was a struggle, the little fellow doing his best to get away; but at last the squirrel gathered him up in her mouth, ran up a tree, and started toward her nest, jumping from branch to branch and from tree to tree. The creature hung limp in her mouth, and I supposed she had killed it, whatever it was. I watched eagerly to see if I could learn what she had caught; for though I had heard that squirrels catch young birds at times, and I had seen one catch a baby chicken, I had never heard of their catching a four-footed animal of any kind. Besides, when I had seen a squirrel catch a baby chicken, it never carried it to its hole at all, but merely took it up into a tree and ate it there.

Finally my squirrel reached her home tree and ran down to the hole. I was at the foot of the tree, watching to see what she had in her mouth. And what do you suppose it was?

It was a baby squirrel, so small that its tail was not even broad and bushy, though it was fully covered with hair. It was one of her babies. Frisky was the name I gave him when I came to know him better. He was so venturesome that he had stolen from the nest hole; just as a wee child sometimes gets out of the yard when mother is not looking, and had run away.

He was far too small to take care of himself, and it was not at all safe for him to be out of the nest hole; but he was determined to go where he pleased, in spite of his mother.

When she reached the hole, she let her baby loose, so he could go inside; but he promptly started around the tree and tried to get away again. She soon caught him, and in the struggle, nearly dropped him to the ground. Now she dragged him to the mouth of the hole, and actually pushed his head into it. But Frisky, protesting at the top of his voice, placed a little paw on each side of the hole, and refused to go in.

The mother pushed and scolded, and moved from one side of the hole to another; still he would not go inside. Finally she seemed to lose patience, and bit him till he squealed with pain. Then she crowded into the hole herself, and dragged him after her. For several minutes, I could hear the little fellow crying and protesting in a way that made it evident he was being punished for his naughtiness. Afterwards everything became quiet, and soon the mother squirrel came out of the hole and ran to the elm tree, and again began eating her supper of elm buds.  

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