Bannertail: The Story of a Graysquirrel Read online

  To have conquered a rival is a long step toward victory, but it is notyet victory complete. When he swung from limb to limb, ever nearer theSilvergray, he was stirred with the wildest hankering of love. Was shenot altogether lovely? But she fled away as though she feared him; andaway he went pursuing.

  There is no more exquisite climbing action than that of the Squirrel,and these two, half a leap apart, winding, wending, rippling through thehigh roof-tree of the woods, were less like two gray climbing thingsthan some long, silvery serpent, sinuating, flashing in and out inundulating coils with endless grace and certainty among the trees.

  Now who will say that Silvergray really raced her fastest, and who willdeny that he did his best? He was strong and swift, the race must end,and then she faced him with anger and menace simulated in her face andpose. He approached too near; her chisel teeth closed on his neck. Heheld still, limp, absolutely unresisting. Her clutch relaxed. Had he notsurrendered? They stood facing each other, an armed neutralityestablished, nothing more.

  Shyly apart and yet together, they drifted about that day, feeding atfeed time. But she was ready to warn him that his distance he must keep.

  By countless little signs they understood each other, and when the nightcame she entered a familiar hollow tree and warned him to go home.

  THEY TWIDDLED WHISKERS GOOD NIGHT]

  Next day they met again, and the next, for there is a rule ofwoodland courtship--three times he must offer and be refused. Havingpassed this proof, all may be well.

  Thus the tradition of the woods was fully carried out, and Bannertailwith Silvergray was looking for a home.

  _THE HOME IN THE HIGH HICKORY_

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE HOME IN THE HIGH HICKORY

  BANNERTAIL was very well satisfied with the home in the red oak, andassumed that thither he should bring his bride. But he had not reckonedwith certain big facts--that is, laws--for the reason that he had neverbefore met them. The female wild thing claims all authority in mattersof the home, and in the honeymoon time no wild mate would even challengeher right to rule.

  So the red oak den was then and there abandoned. Search in the hickorygrove resulted in a find. A Flicker had dug into the trunk of a tallhickory where it was dead. Once through the outer shell the inner woodwas rotten punk, too easy for a Flicker to work in, but exactly rightand easy for a Graysquirrel. Here, then, the two set to work digging outthe soft rotten wood till the chamber was to their liking, much biggerthan that the Woodpecker would have made.

  March, the Wakening-moon, was spent in making the home and lining thenest. Bark strips, pine-needles, fine shreds of plants that had defiedthe wind and snow, rags of clothes left by winter woodmen, feathers,tufts of wool, and many twigs of basswood with their swollen buds, andslippery-elm, and one or two--yes, Silvergray could not resist theimpulse--fat acorns found from last year's crop and hidden now deep inthe lining of the nest. There can be no happier time for any wild andlusty live thing than when working with a loving mate at the buildingand making of the nest. Their world is one of joy--fine weather, fairhunting, with food enough, overwhelming instincts at their flush ofcompulsion--all gratified in sanest, fullest measure. This sure is joy,and Bannertail met each yellow sun-up with his loudest song of praise,as he watched it from the highest lookout of his home tree. His "_qua_"song reached afar, and in its vibrant note expressed the happy time, andexpressing it, intensified it in himself. There seemed no ill to mar thetime. Even the passing snow-storms of the month seemed trifles; theywere little more than landmarks on the joyful way.

  _NEW RIVALS_

  CHAPTER XIV

  NEW RIVALS

  THE stormy moon of March was nearly over when a change came on theirhappy comradeship. Silvergray seemed to beget a coolness, a singularaloofness. If they were on the same branch together she did not sittouching him. If he moved to where she chanced to stand, and tried, as athousand times before, to snuggle up, she moved away. The cloud,whatever it was, grew bigger. In vain he sought by pleasing acts to winher back. She had definitely turned against him, and the climax camewhen one evening they climbed to their finished, set, and furnishedhouse. She whisked in ahead of him, then, turning suddenly, filled thedoorway with her countenance expressing defiance and hostility, hersharp teeth menacingly displayed. She said as plainly as she could: "Youkeep away; you are not wanted here."

  And Bannertail, what could he do? Hurt, rebuffed, not wanted in thehouse he had made and loved, turned away perforce and glumly sought hisbachelor home in the friendly old red oak.

  Whatever was the cause, Bannertail knew that it was his part to keepaway, at least to respond to her wishes. Next morning, after feeding, heswung to the nesting tree. Yes, there she was on a limb--but at once sheretreated to the door and repeated the signal, "You are not wantedhere." The next day it was the same. Then on the third day she wasnowhere to be seen. Bannertail hung about hoping for a glimpse, butnone he got. Cautiously, fearfully, he climbed the old familiarbark-way; silently arriving at the door, he gently thrust in his head.The sweet familiar furry smell told him "yes, she was there."

  He moved inward another step. Yes, there she lay curled up andbreathing. One step more; up she started with an angry little snort.Bannertail sprang back and away, but not before he had seen and sensedthis solving of the mystery. There, snuggling together under her warmbody were three tiny little baby Squirrels.

  For this, indeed, it was that Mother Nature whispered messages and rulesof conduct. For this time it was she had dowered this untutored littlemother Squirrel with all the garnered wisdom of the folk before. Nor didshe leave them now, but sent the very message to Mother Squirrel andFather Squirrel, and the little ones, too, at the very time when theirown poor knowledge must have failed.

  It was the unspoken hint from her that made the little mother-soon-to-behide in the nesting-place some nuts with buds of slippery-elm, twigs ofspice bush, and the bitter but nourishing red acorns. In them was foodand tonic for the trying time. Water she could get near by, but eventhat called for no journey forth, it chanced that a driving raindrenched the tree, and at the very door she found enough to drink.

  _BACHELOR LIFE AGAIN_

  CHAPTER XV

  BACHELOR LIFE AGAIN

  BANNERTAIL was left to himself, like a bachelor driven to his club. Hehad become very wise in woodlore so that the food question was no longerserious. Not counting the remnant of the nuts still unearthed, theswelling buds of every sweet-sapped tree were wholesome, delicious food,the inner bark of sweet birch twigs was good, there were grubs andborers under flakes of bark, the pucker berries or red chokeberries thatgrow in the lowlands still hung in clusters. Their puckery sourness lastfall had made all creatures let them alone, but a winter weathering hadsweetened them, and now they were toothsome as well as abundantsustenance.

  Another, wholly different food, was added to the list. With the brightspring days the yellow Sapsucker arrived from the South. He is a craftybird and a lover of sweets. His plan is to drill with his sharp beak ahole deep through the bark of a sugar-maple, so the sap runs out anddown the bark, lodging in the crevices; and not one but a score of treeshe taps. Of course the sun evaporates the sap, so it becomes syrup, andeven sugar on the edges. This attracts many spring insects, which getentangled in the sticky stuff, and the Sapsucker, going from tree totree in the morning, feasts on a rich confection of candied bugs. Butmany other creatures of the woods delight in this primitive sweetmeat,and Bannertail did not hesitate to take it when he could find it.Although animals have some respect for property law among their ownkind, might is the only right they own in dealing with others.

  Amusement aplenty Bannertail found in building "drays," or tree nests.These are stick platforms of the simplest open-work, placed high inconvenient trees. Some are for lookouts, some for sleeping-porches whenthe night is hot, some are for the sun-bath that every wise Squirreltakes. Here he would lie on his back in the morning sun with his bellyexposed, his limbs outsprawling, and let the hea
ling sun-rays strikethrough the thin skin, reaching every part with their actinic power.

  Bannertail did it because it was pleasant, and he ceased doing it whenit no longer pleased him. Is not this indeed Dame Nature's way? Pain isher protest against injury, and soothingness in the healthy creature isthe proof that it is doing good. Many disorders we know are met orwarded off by this sun-bath. We know it now. Not long ago we had nofuller information than had Bannertail on such things. We knew only thatit felt good at the time and left us feeling better; so we took it, ashe took it, when the need of the body called for it, and ceased as hedid, when the body no longer desired it.

  _THE WARDEN MEETS AN INVADER_

  CHAPTER XVI

  THE WARDEN MEETS AN INVADER

  THE bond between them had kept Bannertail near his mate, and her warningkept him not too near. Yet it was his daily wont to come to the nestingtree and wait about, in case of anything, he knew not what. Thus it wasthat he heard a rustling in the near-by limbs one day, then caught aflash of red. A stranger approaching the tree of trees. All Bannertail'sfighting blood was aroused. He leaped by well-known jumps, and coursedalong well-known overways, till he was on the nesting tree, andundulated like a silvery shadow up the familiar trunk to find himselffacing the very Redsquirrel whose range he once had entered and fromwhom he, Bannertail, had fled. But what a change of situation and ofheart! Redhead scoffed and shook his flaming tail. He shrieked his"_skit, skit_" and stood prepared to fight. Did Bannertail holdback--he, Bannertail, that formerly had declined the combat with thisvery rogue? Not for an instant. There was new-engendered power withincompelling him. He sprang on the Red bandit with all his vigor and drovehis teeth in deep. The Redhead was a fighter, too. He clinched and bit.They clung, wrestled and stabbed, then, losing hold of the tree, wenthurling to the earth below. In air they flung apart, but landing unhurtthey clinched again on the ground; then the Redhead, bleeding from manylittle wounds, and over-matched, sought to escape, dodged this way andthat, found refuge in a hole under a root; and Bannertail, breathless,with two or three slight stabs, swung slowly up the tree from whichSilvergray had watched the fight of her mate.

  There never yet was feminine heart that withheld its meed of worshipfrom her fighting champion coming home victorious--which reason may nothave entered into it at all. But this surely counted: The young ones'eyes were opened, they were no longer shapeless lumps of flesh. Theywere fuzzy little Squirrels. The time had come for the father to rejointhe brood.

  With the come-together instinct that follows fight, he climbed to thevery doorway; she met him there, whisker to whisker. She reached out andlicked his wounded shoulder; when she reentered the den he came in too;nosing his brood to get their smell, just as a woman mother buries hernose in the creasy neck of her baby; he gently curled about them all,and the reunited family went sound asleep in their single double bed.

  _THE HOODOO ON THE HOME_

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE HOODOO ON THE HOME

  NOT many days later they had a new unfriendly visitor. It was in themorning rest hour that follows early breakfast. The familiar _cluck,cluck_ of a Flicker had sounded from a near tree-top. Then his stirring_tattoo_ was heard on a high dead limb of the one tree. A little later ascratching sound, and the hole above was darkened by the head andshoulders of a big bird peering down at them through the opening. Hislong, sharp beak was opened to utter a loud startling "_clape!_" Upleaped Bannertail to meet and fight off the invader. There was littlefighting to be done, for the Flicker sprang back, and on to a highlimb. His fighting feathers were raised, and his threatening beak didlook very dangerous, but he did not wait for Bannertail to spring onhim. He swooped away in a glory of yellow wings, and with a chuckle ofderision. It was a small incident, but it made a second break in theirsense of secrecy.

  Then came another little shock. The Bluejay, the noisy mischief-maker,was prowling around the farmhouse, and high on a ledge he found ahandful of big horse-chestnuts gathered by the boy "to throw at cats."Had he been hungry the Jay would have eaten them, but choice food wasplentiful, so now his storage instincts took charge. The Bluejay nearlysprained his bill getting a hold on a nut, then carried it off, lookingfor a hollow tree in which to hide it, as is the custom of his kind. Thehole he found was the Squirrel's nest. He meant to take a good look inbefore dropping it, but the nut was big and heavy, smooth and round. Itslipped from his beak plump into the sleeping family, landing right onBannertail's nose. Up he jumped with a snort and rushed to the door. TheBluejay was off at a safe distance, and chortled a loud "_Tooral,tooral, jay, jay!_" in mischievous mockery, then flew away. Bannertailmight have taken that nut for a friendly gift, but its coming showedthat the den was over-visible. There was something wrong with it.

  Later the very same day, the Bluejay did this same thing with anotherbig chestnut. Evidently now he enjoyed the commotion that followed thedropping of the nut.

  One day later came a still more disturbing event. A roving, prowling curfound the fresh Squirrel track up the tree, and "yapped" sopersistently that two boys who were leagued with the dog for all mannerof evil, came, marked the hole and spent half an hour throwing stones atit, varying their volleys with heavy pounding on the trunk to "make theSquirrel come out."

  Of course, neither Bannertail nor Silvergray did show themselves. Thatis very old wood-wisdom. "Lay low, keep out of sight when the foe is onthe war-path." And at last the besiegers and their yap-colleague trampedaway without having seen sign or hair of a Squirrel.

  There was very little to the incident, but it sank deep intoSilvergray's small brain. "This nest is ill-concealed. Every hostilecreature finds it."

  There was yet another circumstance that urged action. Shall I tell it?It is so unpicturesque. A Squirrel's nest is a breeding-ground forvermin; a nest that is lined with soft grass, feathers, and woolbecomes a swarming hive. Bannertail's farm upbringing had made him alltoo familiar with feathers and wool. His contribution to the homefurnishing had been of the kind that guaranteed a parasitic scourge.This thing he had not learned--for it is instilled by the smell of theirmother nest--cedar bark and sassafras leaves, with their pungent oils,are needed to keep the irritating vermin swarm away. And Silvergray, wasshe at fault? Only in this, the purifying bark and leaves were scarce.She was weak compared with Bannertail. His contributions had so faroutpointed hers that the nest had become unbearable. Their only coursewas to abandon it.

  _THE NEW HOME_

  CHAPTER XVIII

  THE NEW HOME

  TWICE a day now Silvergray left the little ones, to forage for herself,soon after sunrise and just before sunset. It was on the morning outingthat she went house hunting. And Bannertail went too. Ever he led to thecosey home in his old red oak. But there is a right that is deeplyrooted in custom, in logic, and in female instinct, that it is theshe-one's privilege to select, prepare, and own the home. Everysuggestion that he made by offered lead or actual entry, was scorned andthe one who made it, snubbed. She did her own selecting, and, strangestthing of all, she chose the rude stick nest of a big-winged Hawk,abandoned now, for the Hawk himself, with his long-clawed mate, wasnailed to the end of the barn.

  Winter storm and beaming sun had purged and purified the rough oldaerie; it was high on a most unclimbable tree, yet sheltered in thewood, and here Silvergray halted in her search. All about the nest andtree she climbed, and smelled to find the little owner marks, of musk orrasping teeth, if such there should be--the marks that would have warnedher that this place was already possessed. But none there were. Theplace was without taint, bore only through and through the clean, sweetodor of the woods and wood.

  And this is how she took possession: She rubbed her body on the rim ofthe nest, she nibbled off projecting twiglets, she climbed round andround the trunk below and above, thus leaving her foot and body scenteverywhere about, then gathered a great mouthful of springtime twigs,with their soft green leaves, and laid them in the Hawk nest for thefloor-cloth of her own.

  She went far
ther, and found a sassafras, with its glorious flaming smellof incense, its redolence of aromatic purity, and with a little surge ofjoy instinctive she gathered bundle after bundle of the sweet, strongtwigs, spread them out for the rug and matting of the house. AndBannertail did the same, and for a while they worked in harmony. Thenwas struck a harsh, discordant note.

  Crossing the forest floor Bannertail found a rag, a mitten that somewinter woodcutter had cast away, and, still obsessed with the nurserygarnish of his own farm-kitten days, he pounced on this and bore itgleefully to the nest that they were abuilding. And Silvergray, whatsaid she, as the evil thing was brought? She had no clear ideas, nologic from the other ill-starred home. She could not say: "There washoodoo on it, and this ragged woollen mitt seems hoodoo-like to me." Butthese were her strange reactions. "The smell of that other nest was likethis; that smell is linked with every evil memory. I do not want ithere." Her instinct, the inherited wisdom of her forebears, indorsedthis view, and as she sniffed and sniffed, the smell inspired her withintense hostility, a hostility that in the other nest was somewhatoffset by the smell of her loved brood, but this was not--it was whollystrange and hostile. Her neck hair rose, her tail trembled a little, as,acting under the new and growing impulse of violent dislike, she hurledthe offending rag far from the threshold of her nest. Flop it went tothe ground below. And Bannertail, not quite understanding, believedthis to be an accident. Down he went as fast as his fast feet couldcarry him, seized on the ragged mitten, brought it again to thehome-building. But the instinct that had been slow arousing was nowdominant in Silvergray. With an angry chatter she hurled the accursedthing afar, and made it clear by snort and act that "such things comenot there."