FLUFF IS LOST.
The news brought by the bat Flipwing was correct,--the youngest of the
squirrel family, little Fluff, was indeed missing, and great was the
distress of his family in consequence. The first day of freedom,--that
on which the two young crows had discovered the new dwellings of the
field-mouse and squirrels, when the young squirrels had ventured
out alone for the first time in their lives,--proved to be a most
disastrous event, for it awoke in their young natures a taste for
adventure that was most dangerous.
So delightful was this new experience, that it became the custom of
the young squirrels daily, in the absence of their parents, to venture
out boldly, and enjoy the freedom of the woods. Bobtilla’s children,
possessing more timid natures, dared not join their neighbors in
their adventures, but remained quietly at home; while their fearless
playmates, made confident by the seclusion and solitude about them,
became constantly bolder, and each day ventured farther out.
Such a vigilant old fellow as the miser Rough, who was now bent on
discovering the new retreat of his enemies, as he chose to consider the
harmless little field-mouse and squirrels, could not fail before long
to find them out.
One day, hidden behind a moss-covered stump, old Rough discovered the
young squirrels frisking merrily about among the trees and over the
rocks; and he soon learned that it was the habit of these active young
creatures to venture out daily, as soon as their parents had departed
in search of food, and pursue their innocent gambols.
Then did the old water-rat set his wicked mind to work, and he soon
formed a plan of revenge that afforded him perfect satisfaction.
Beneath the very stump that had served as a hiding-place whence he
could watch his unsuspecting victims, he dug a long and deep den, and
skilfully concealed the opening with moss and leaves. To this cavern he
conducted his wife, giving her minute directions as to her part of the
programme.
Ruffina promised to obey in every particular; and indeed a much bolder
nature than the water-rat’s submissive wife’s might have quailed under
the direful consequences which the old miser vowed would follow the
slightest disregard of his directions.
Thus was Ruffina installed within the den, and before the opening was
placed a fine acorn, while just within lay several more of unusually
fine size and quality.
Meanwhile the young squirrels frisked and gambolled in their beautiful
playground among the trees with not a suspicion of the plot laid for
their destruction. A very venturesome squirrel was little Fluff, the
youngest and most promising of the family, and his bold spirit led
him into places where his more cautious brothers and sister dared not
follow. His bright eyes were always spying out objects they never
thought of finding, and his inquisitive little nose was constantly
poking itself where it had no business to go.
The time for which old Rough had long waited at last arrived. Fluff’s
curious eyes espied the tempting acorn that the old miser had placed to
entrap him, and in a moment he had it in his little forepaws, and his
sharp teeth soon penetrated the thin shell. Selfishness was not one of
Fluff’s faults, and he generously divided the delicate morsel with his
companions.
The acorn did not go very far, to be sure, and when the small share
that fell to each was eaten, they looked at each other wistfully.
“What a pity there are no more!” said one.
“Ah, that was good,” replied another, carefully examining the empty
shells, in the hope that some crumbs might have been overlooked.
“There must be more,” asserted Fluff, positively. “It isn’t likely just
one nut would be left here. It was dropped by mistake, and the rest,
probably a big pile, must be near;” and Fluff’s inquisitive nose and
bright eyes began their investigations.
It was not long before the opening so ingeniously concealed by old
Rough was brought to light, and in went Master Fluff.
“See here!” he soon called out, “what did I tell you? Here are some
more of them, and you may be sure that that dark den beyond is full.
Come on, and help yourselves!”
The more cautious brothers and sister, however, did not think it
prudent to venture into the dark entrance to the cavern, but looked
longingly in, while the bolder Fluff brought them some of the fine
acorns, which, if possible, were even larger and of finer flavor than
the one found outside.
These, too, were soon eaten, and then came the natural desire for more.
The first peep into the dark cavern, however, had been sufficient to
keep all but Fluff at a safe distance; but this venturesome young
squirrel soon decided on the course he intended to pursue.
“I’ve made up my mind,” said Fluff, boldly, “that there are plenty more
acorns in that dark hole, and I’m going in.”
“Going in!” exclaimed his horrified companions.
“Yes; what is there so strange in that?” laughed Fluff. “It’s evident
to me that that dark cave is the hiding-place of some old miser, and on
the way he dropped a few of his nuts. There must be a pile of them, or
he wouldn’t have let such fine nuts lie there.”
“Oh, don’t go in!” pleaded little Flossie. “Suppose some great horrid
creature with long, sharp teeth and claws lives there!”
“If I find any such thing there, I shall come right back, of course. Do
you think I am so foolish as to allow myself to be nabbed?”
But Flossie’s gentle little heart was not satisfied, and she continued
to plead with her venturesome brother. The others, it must be
confessed, did not oppose so many objections to Fluff’s plans as did
his tender-hearted little sister, for they greatly desired the savory
nuts, and Fluff had always come off with such flying colors from the
many risks he had run, that they had great confidence in his powers;
so it was with some inward satisfaction that they saw him enter the
passage-way that led into the dark cave.
For an instant all was still, and the little squirrels waiting outside
huddled together, listening breathlessly for some signal from their
brother; but all at once arose in Fluff’s well-known voice a sharp cry
of pain, and then followed immediately repeated calls for help.
The timid creatures, terrified, scampered off as fast as they could go,
leaving their courageous brother to his fate. When at a safe distance,
they stopped, their hearts beating wildly and their sides palpitating,
and looked timidly back at the dark cavern into which poor Fluff had
disappeared.
Nothing was to be seen, and all was still; and soon came the dreadful
thought,--how should they account to their parents for Fluff’s absence?
Too cowardly to tell the truth, which would reveal their own
disobedience, they resolved to assert boldly that Fluff had disappeared
suddenly when they were at play, and they could find no traces of him.
In vain did gentle Flossie plead with them to allow her to tell the
whole truth; but she was threatened with the most dreadful consequences
if she did not do as they wished.
“I’ll set ‘Old Dead’ after you, Floss, if you tell,” said her oldest
brother, when all other arguments had failed.
Who “Old Dead” was, Flossie hadn’t the least idea; but she knew he must
be somebody to be dreaded, for the name alone struck terror to her
gentle soul; and even Fluff, bold as he was, had often submitted to his
older brothers, when they threatened to summon “Old Dead.”
Thus, much against her will, Flossie yielded, and promised to help her
brothers deceive their kind parents in regard to her poor lost brother;
and when Squirrella and Squirrello returned, the sad story was told
them that Fluff had suddenly disappeared, and that they thought the
fierce Blinkeye must have carried him off.
“In the daytime?” asked Squirrello. “How can that be? He sleeps all day
long.”
“Any way, we heard a great noise, and thought it must be Blinkeye,”
asserted the little squirrels, boldly.
But in spite of their success in deceiving their parents, the cowardly
little creatures were far from being satisfied with themselves; and as
for little Flossie, she mourned more and more, as day after day passed,
and no tidings came from her favorite brother.
Poor Fluff! he was in the power of old Rough, who was keeping him a
prisoner, in order to revenge himself on Squirrello and Squirrella
for giving assistance to Bobtilla. Ruffina was his jailor, and heard
without pity his prayers to be released.
The old miser himself occasionally visited his captive in order to
enjoy his misery. Poor little Fluff! One who had seen him in his days
of freedom, with his bushy tail tilted saucily over his striped back,
and his bright eyes glancing roguishly about, would never recognize him
in the drooping little figure with lustreless eyes that now crouched in
one corner of old Rough’s prison, day and night under Ruffina’s sharp
eyes, as she sat ready to pounce upon him at the first effort he made
to escape.
Very meagre was poor Fluff’s fare, and the plump sides that once bulged
out under his generous feed of nuts were now sunken and hollow.
At first the little prisoner, relying on his swift movements, made many
attempts to escape when he thought the attention of his watchful jailor
was withdrawn; but he was soon undeceived, and her strong paws reminded
him that she was as vigilant as ever.
Courageous as was Fluff’s spirit, it was fast becoming subdued from
imprisonment and starvation; but through it all came the thought that
his loving parents would find some means to release him, and this
thought cheered him through many a lonely hour.
Little did Fluff dream, frank and fearless as he was, to what base
methods cowardly natures can be led; and shut up in this dark cavern,
his mind pictured his brothers and sister lurking near his prison,
watching for an opportunity to defend him, and his parents laying plans
for his release. Every sound made his heart beat fast with expectation,
but each time it fell with disappointment as his hopes deceived him.
While poor Fluff waited and watched for his release, his friends
outside were busily employed in discovering traces of him. In vain did
Squirrello and Squirrella search for some trace of their lost child,
and Bobtilla joined in the search.
That shrewd fellow, the swallow Swift, flew hither and thither, looking
into hollow trees and dark holes; but not a clew to the missing Fluff
did he discover.
That experienced detective, Flipwing, was on the watch, too, and
at night prowled silently about, hoping to gain some clew to the
whereabouts of Fluff. At times some slight information, that to the
inexperienced would seem of no value, the shrewd Flipwing would seize
on, and by skilfully weaving together the news he had obtained, the
hope that he had at last found a clew to the mystery would encourage
him; but when the chain of evidence was nearly complete, a missing link
would overthrow the whole, and Flipwing’s patient work become useless.
At last, however, when the detective’s final hope had disappeared, an
unexpected event set his heart beating with renewed courage.
[Illustration: “The squirrels looked as they were directed, and
discovered the bat.”]