After the departure of their children the squirrels felt, as you may
suppose, rather dull and lonely at first, but they very wisely made use
of a remedy for low spirits, which I would strongly recommend to you,
whenever you find yourself melancholy or uncomfortable in your mind
from any cause. And particularly when you are so, _without_ any
apparent cause; for we sometimes see people very dismal and melancholy,
when they have every good thing they can wish, and _ought_ to be
cheerful and happy. This wonderful and never failing remedy for low
spirits is _employment_! Try it, my dear melancholy young reader, and
whether you have a good reason for your sadness or not, you will at
least have met with something worth remembering in this history.
Our squirrels, then, instead of sitting moping side by side on a bough,
and grumbling out to each other, "What miserable creatures we are!"
instead of thus giving way to their melancholy thoughts, they
immediately began to make use of the _remedy_ I have mentioned. The
first thing they did was carefully to examine the nest, to see what
repairs it stood in need of. It would at any rate require a fresh
lining of moss and leaves; so all the old bedding, which I must confess
was rather dusty and untidy, was taken off, and kicked out of the hole,
together with a quantity of nut-shells and other rubbish, which had
been collecting there for some months. When this work was finished, it
was found that the under part, or groundwork of the nest, which
consisted of small twigs and fibres curiously interlaced, was very
rotten, and required to be almost entirely renewed. So there was plenty
of work to do, and very diligently the squirrels laboured to complete
it. Not that they worked like slaves, from morning till night. Oh no!
they allowed themselves abundance of time for feasting and fun, for
they were such merry, light-hearted creatures, that they could not live
without a good game of play now and then. They even mixed play with
their work; for when they had to go to a little distance for some
particularly fine soft moss, or other materials for nest-building, they
were sure to have a race, to try which of them could reach the place
first. So the days passed by right merrily.
"It is very odd," said Brush, one evening, just before he rolled
himself up for the night in the warm _blanket_ I have before mentioned;
"It is very odd that we should have lived almost all our lives so near
that family of water-rats, in the bank of the pond, and have known so
little about them. I always thought them a savage, bloodthirsty, set of
fellows, and that they would make no scruple of killing fish, or young
birds, or mice, or any other small animal that they could master. But
what do you think Gotobed told me just now, as I came up the tree? Why,
he says, that it is all a mistake, and that he is certain that these
water-rats are a very decent, quiet sort of people, feeding on
vegetables, like ourselves. He says, that as he was creeping about just
now among the grass, close to the edge of the pond, but a long way from
the water-rats' holes, which are all on the opposite side, he suddenly
found himself quite close to one of these creatures, who was perched up
on a flat stone, and busily gnawing the root of some plant. Our poor
little cousin, you know, has not much presence of mind, so in his
fright, and terrible hurry to escape from the monster, he slipped off
the bank, and rolled into the water. The splash he made frightened the
rat, who plumped into the water too, and so there they were both
swimming close together. Gotobed expected to be eaten up in a minute,
but the rat only said to him, 'Ha! ha! little fellow, is it only you?
Not much used to swimming I see! But come down some fine evening, and
I'll teach you. The water is too cold just now for such as you.'
"Gotobed was too much frightened to say a word, so he scrambled up the
bank, and ran home to his nest as fast as possible. Poor little thing!
he looked so miserable, with his beautiful fur dripping wet, and
sticking close to his body."
"What a ridiculous story," said Mrs. Brush, who could hardly keep
herself awake till it was finished; "Why I have heard Gotobed say, that
his mother used to tell a story about a relation of hers, who lived a
good way off, who was killed and eaten up in a moment, by one of these
very water-rats. I have even heard it said, that the males will often
kill and eat the young ones, if their mothers are not careful to hide
them. Depend upon it, they are a horrid set, and I often wish they did
not live quite so near us."
"Well," said Brush, gaping, "I'll try to find out something more about
them to-morrow; but I declare I can't keep awake any longer just now."
So the next afternoon, our squirrel, who had some courage, and a great
deal of curiosity, determined, if possible, to learn something about
the character of these water-rats, one of whom, by a kind word spoken
to little Gotobed, had so altered his opinion of their disposition and
manner of living.
Brush chose the afternoon for his visit, because he had observed that
these animals came out of their holes more at that time than in the
middle of the day. But our inquisitive friend did not allow his
curiosity to lead him into any danger, in this inquiry into the
proceedings of his neighbours. He therefore crept through the high
grass to the other side of the pond, and very quietly climbed up into a
low willow-tree, overhanging the bank, in which the water-rats had made
their habitations. Here, concealed among the leaves, he had a full view
of all that passed below.
Close to the steep bank, in which these animals had bored many round
holes, was a small flat space of fine pebbles and sand, sloping down
into the water on one side, and on the other, bordered by a thick bed
of the sweet-smelling water-mint, with here and there a stem of the
plant called horsetail, towering up like a gigantic palm-tree in the
midst of a forest. On this pleasant little pebbly beach, Brush
perceived several water-rats, both old and young; and some very grave
looking faces were peeping out of their holes in the bank, watching the
proceedings of their companions below.
One of those on the beach had his attention entirely engaged by the
root of some plant, which he was nibbling; another was busily cleaning
his fur with his fore-paws; and two very young ones were paddling about
in the shallow water, into which their mother, as Brush supposed, had
taken them, for the first time in their lives, to give them a lesson in
swimming. Sometimes one of the grave looking gentlemen in the bank,
either for amusement, or in search of food, would leap, or rather
_tumble_, from the mouth of his hole, into the water, and dive at once
to the bottom, with the greatest ease imaginable; but he could not
remain under much more than a minute at a time, for want of breath.
When he came up again to the surface, Brush was exceedingly surprised
to see that, instead of appearing wet and miserable, like poor little
Gotobed after his ducking, his hair was as dry as if he had never been
into the water at all.
"How delightful it must be to dive and swim about like that!" said the
squirrel to himself, and he could hardly help jumping in to try his
skill, forgetting that he was not formed for moving through the water,
but for running and leaping about among the branches of trees. I wonder
how he would have managed his bushy tail in swimming, and how funny it
would have looked with the long hair all wet and sticking together!
Perhaps he thought of this himself. At any rate, he did not jump into
the water just then, but remained looking down from his hiding-place in
the willow-tree, very much pleased with what he had hitherto seen of
these clever divers and swimmers.
"Well," said he to himself, "they don't eat their own young ones, that
is clear enough; but how they might treat any other small animal that
came in their way I cannot possibly tell. And yet the great old rat
that frightened poor Gotobed so terribly, behaved very well, I am sure;
but then perhaps he was not hungry just then, and only asked him to
come again and be taught to swim that he might make a meal of him
another time. So I won't have anything to say to them just yet. Perhaps
if I wait here a little longer, I may see something that will decide
the matter."
And the matter _was_ decided, sooner than Brush expected. At a little
distance from the water-rats' station, he now perceived a most singular
looking animal, which was quite a stranger to him, though he had a
pretty large acquaintance among his neighbours. It was about the size
of a common mouse, but of a deep velvety black above, and white
underneath, and its nose was very long and pointed, like the snout of
a pig. His eyes were very small indeed, and looked like little black
beads deeply set in his head.
This curious, but beautiful little animal behaved exactly like a person
who knows that he has a great deal of work to get through in a very
short time. I mean, that he was very diligent and active, and seemed
determined not to lose a moment by stopping to rest himself, or to
consider what he should do next. He appeared to be an excellent swimmer
and diver, thrusting his long nose under the leaves at the bottom of
the water, in search of insects I suppose, and when he came to the
surface again, his fur was quite dry, like that of the water-rats. So
when he dived, this water-repelling property in his fur made him appear
of a beautiful silvery white colour, from the number of small air
bubbles he carried down with him. He was never still for a moment,
either diving to the bottom, or swimming, with a very quick wriggling
motion on the surface, and every now and then he would come to the
shore, from which he seldom ventured very far.
"A very queer little fellow indeed, upon my word!" said Brush, "I
wonder who he is. I cannot help liking him though, for he seems so
clever and industrious. Oh dear me! how I wish I could dive in that
beautiful clear water! But I declare he is coming nearer and nearer
every minute to that old rat, who is so busy gnawing his root. Now,
when the little one passes him, we shall see what will happen. I am
sure the old rat must be terribly hungry, or he would not gnaw that
disagreeable looking root so eagerly, and if he does not pounce upon
the little black fellow, and tear him to pieces, I shall be very much
astonished indeed."
The squirrel was not long kept in suspense, for just as he had finished
talking the matter over to himself, the little velvet-coated swimmer,
intent upon his own important business, came paddling along very near
the shore, and at last landed quite close to the spot where the rat was
still engaged with his root. But when he perceived the visitor, he
immediately left off eating, and slowly turned his head towards him!
[Illustration: THE WATER-RAT AND WATER-SHREWMOUSE. Page 61.]
"Horrible! he'll have him now! 'Tis all over with him," said Brush,
quite trembling with eagerness to see the end of the affair. "'Tis all
over with the little black fellow, and these rats are rascals after
all!"
But he was very much mistaken, for the only animal that lost its life
upon the occasion, was a small insect, which the bead-like eyes of
little velvet-coat had perceived crawling upon a stone, near the
water's edge, and in his eagerness to secure this valuable prize, I
suppose he did not observe that such a large fierce-looking creature
was close by, or perhaps he had found from experience that there was
nothing to fear from him. However, the little fellow boldly seized his
prey, and darted off with it into the water, while the quiet old
gentleman went on munching his root again.
Now when Brush witnessed this peaceable meeting of the two animals,
proving that water-rats were not the cruel, savage tempered creatures,
they are generally supposed to be, he was so delighted, that he quite
forgot that he had intended to have been a concealed spectator of their
proceedings. So he called out as loud as he could,--
"Capital, I declare! 'Tis all a lie from beginning to end. Little
Gotobed was right after all. They _are_ a very decent, quiet set, as
he said."
But this expression of his sentiments quite interrupted the peaceable
employments of the company below, for the loud strange voice nearly
over their heads frightened them so, that they all either dived under
water, or retreated into their holes. However, the squirrel had now
satisfied his curiosity, and as he was rather frightened himself at
the disturbance he had made, he hastily leaped down from his hiding-place,
and scampered home to his nest. As for little velvet-coat, I never
heard what became of him, but no doubt he found a place to hide
himself in. But I believe I have never told you who he was. He was a
_water-shrewmouse_,[3] and very much like the common shrewmouse that
we often find lying dead in lanes and pathways. But he was larger
than the common shrewmouse, and altogether a much handsomer animal.
[3] Though this beautiful and interesting little animal, the
water-shrewmouse, was for a long time almost unnoticed by the
naturalists of this country, it cannot be considered as a rare
species. Bell, in his History of British Quadrupeds, informs us,
that it is not uncommon in many parts of England, and he says,
that its black velvet-like fur and long snout have sometimes
given rise to an opinion, that it is a small species of mole, to
which animal its structure and habits indicate a near affinity.