THE HOODOO ON THE HOME
NOT many days later they had a new unfriendly visitor. It was in the
morning 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 a
scratching sound, and the hole above was darkened by the head and
shoulders of a big bird peering down at them through the opening. His
long, sharp beak was opened to utter a loud startling "_clape!_" Up
leaped Bannertail to meet and fight off the invader. There was little
fighting to be done, for the Flicker sprang back, and on to a high
limb. His fighting feathers were raised, and his threatening beak did
look very dangerous, but he did not wait for Bannertail to spring on
him. He swooped away in a glory of yellow wings, and with a chuckle of
derision. It was a small incident, but it made a second break in their
sense 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 a
handful 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 was
plentiful, so now his storage instincts took charge. The Bluejay nearly
sprained his bill getting a hold on a nut, then carried it off, looking
for a hollow tree in which to hide it, as is the custom of his kind. The
hole he found was the Squirrel's nest. He meant to take a good look in
before dropping it, but the nut was big and heavy, smooth and round. It
slipped from his beak plump into the sleeping family, landing right on
Bannertail's nose. Up he jumped with a snort and rushed to the door. The
Bluejay was off at a safe distance, and chortled a loud "_Tooral,
tooral, jay, jay!_" in mischievous mockery, then flew away. Bannertail
might have taken that nut for a friendly gift, but its coming showed
that the den was over-visible. There was something wrong with it.
Later the very same day, the Bluejay did this same thing with another
big chestnut. Evidently now he enjoyed the commotion that followed the
dropping of the nut.
[Illustration]
One day later came a still more disturbing event. A roving, prowling cur
found the fresh Squirrel track up the tree, and "yapped" so
persistently that two boys who were leagued with the dog for all manner
of evil, came, marked the hole and spent half an hour throwing stones at
it, varying their volleys with heavy pounding on the trunk to "make the
Squirrel come out."
Of course, neither Bannertail nor Silvergray did show themselves. That
is very old wood-wisdom. "Lay low, keep out of sight when the foe is on
the war-path." And at last the besiegers and their yap-colleague tramped
away without having seen sign or hair of a Squirrel.
There was very little to the incident, but it sank deep into
Silvergray's small brain. "This nest is ill-concealed. Every hostile
creature 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 for
vermin; a nest that is lined with soft grass, feathers, and wool
becomes a swarming hive. Bannertail's farm upbringing had made him all
too familiar with feathers and wool. His contribution to the home
furnishing had been of the kind that guaranteed a parasitic scourge.
This thing he had not learned--for it is instilled by the smell of their
mother nest--cedar bark and sassafras leaves, with their pungent oils,
are needed to keep the irritating vermin swarm away. And Silvergray, was
she at fault? Only in this, the purifying bark and leaves were scarce.
She was weak compared with Bannertail. His contributions had so far
outpointed hers that the nest had become unbearable. Their only course
was to abandon it.
[Illustration]
_THE NEW HOME_