FLIPWING MAKES AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY.
The circumstance that so much encouraged the bat Flipwing was the
following: One morning, after an unusually tedious night had been
spent in trying to discover some information concerning the missing
Fluff, Flipwing had alighted on a tree in the depths of the wood, and
clinging head downward to the rough bark had fallen instantly asleep.
The sun’s rays sifting through the forest trees did not wake the
exhausted bat, and he slept soundly until the sun stood directly
overhead. Then his heavy slumber changed to a lighter one, interspersed
with dreams in which the scenes of the previous night were enacted. At
last Flipwing dreamed that his diligent search was rewarded, and the
fate of the lost squirrel decided.
So vivid was the dream that Flipwing could hardly believe it was not
reality, and that he did not actually hear the voice of the little
squirrel, when suddenly a particularly bright ray of sunlight fell on
him, and he awoke.
At first so deep had been his slumber, and so very natural his dream,
that the bat could not at once understand whether he were awake or
asleep. He looked about him, however, and soon realized that he had
been asleep on the tree where he had alighted a few hours before. The
atmosphere of his dream hung about him, and he still seemed to hear the
little squirrel’s high tones.
It was true that Flipwing _did_ hear a squirrel’s voice; but it was
not the voice of Fluff, and in an instant the bat’s sharp senses were
wide awake and on the alert. Three young squirrels were seated on a
neighboring tree, so eager in conversation that they did not observe
the small, dark outline of the bat clinging to the tree. Flossie and
her two older brothers were talking together very eagerly, and after
hearing a few words Flipwing did not allow a single sentence of the
conversation to escape him.
“Do let me tell what became of him,” pleaded Flossie; “he may be
alive, and waiting for us to release him.”
“Remember your promise, you little sneak!” answered her brother Bob;
“you needn’t think you can go back on that.”
“Fluff wouldn’t have served you so, you know he wouldn’t,” said
Flossie, earnestly. “He’d have come right into the hole and tried to
get you out.”
“Well, we’re not quite so foolish as all that,” said Chippie, the other
brother. “It wouldn’t have helped Fluff any to have us caught and eaten
up too.”
“Oh dear!” exclaimed Flossie, “then you think poor Fluff is killed? Oh,
how wicked we have been not to tell!”
“I don’t believe he’s killed,” replied Bob; “most likely he’s alive and
well, and they’re only keeping him there in prison.”
“Then there’s all the more reason for our telling,” said Flossie. “Just
think of his waiting for some one to come and help him, while we are
such cowards we don’t dare tell what happened to him!”
“If you _do_ tell, Floss, ‘old Dead’ will get you sure, and I’ll call
him,” threatened Bob, for Flossie was becoming so earnest that her
brother felt extreme measures were needed.
“I don’t care for ‘old Dead’! You can call him, for all I care. I’m
going to tell just where poor Fluff is,” and off started Flossie with
more energy than she had ever before displayed.
So unexpected was their gentle little sister’s revolt that her
brothers at first were too much astonished to move; but they recovered
themselves before she had gone very far, and soon overtook her,
handling her so roughly that the poor little creature gave a cry of
pain.
“Let her alone! Do you hear?” called out a voice, sharply.
All three of the squirrels looked about them in astonishment; but not
a trace of the speaker did they discover, and a horrible thought began
to dawn in Chippie’s mind, that perhaps “old Dead,” on whose name they
had so often called, had become tired of these appeals, and had at last
come to call them to account.
“Let her alone, I say!” repeated the voice; “and stop where you are, or
it will be the worse for you.”
Too terrified to move, the three young squirrels waited breathlessly
for the possessor of the voice to disclose himself. In vain their eyes
glanced anxiously about,--not a sign of any living creature did they
discover.
“Look up here, on this oak-tree,” called out the same voice. “There’s
nothing to be afraid of. All I want of you is to answer a question or
two, and then you shall go.”
The squirrels looked as they were directed, and discovered the bat.
The discovery was a great relief to them, particularly to Chippie,
whose imagination had become quite active on the subject of “old Dead.”
“Now tell me where your brother is. I promise you that nobody shall
harm you if you tell the truth.”
The two brothers were silent, and looked at each other inquiringly, as
if they were deliberating whether they should tell all they knew. The
bat was very quick to see what was going on in their minds.
“If you tell me all,” said Flipwing, “I will not betray you; but unless
you do, I shall go at once to your parents and repeat to them the
conversation I have overheard.”
Thus warned, Bob recited the same story he had repeated to his parents
about Fluff’s sudden disappearance.
“You are not telling me the truth,” said Flipwing, severely; “remember,
I overheard you just now when you thought yourselves alone.”
“I will tell you all about it,” said Flossie, boldly. “Fluff went into
a dark hole after some acorns, and he didn’t come back; and he gave
an awfully loud screech, and I know something must have hurt him very
badly, for Fluff doesn’t make a fuss about trifles.”
“Where is the hole into which your brother went, little one?” asked
Flipwing, kindly.
“Do you see that big stump over by that tall hemlock-tree?” asked
Flossie.
“I can’t see very well in the daytime, little one; but if you describe
it, I can find it when night comes.”
“There’s a big stump right over there,” said Flossie, with a nod of her
head in the direction indicated. “It’s a _very_ big stump, and you may
know it by the lots of moss growing on top of it. Well, under it is a
hole. You don’t notice it at first, because it’s almost covered over
with leaves and moss, but Fluff pushed them aside, and it’s very large
indeed inside.”
“And so Fluff disappeared inside, and that’s the last you’ve seen of
him, is it?”
“Yes,” answered Flossie, “and I should not be surprised if an awfully
cross creature with long claws lived there.”
“We’ll find out all about that, little one,” said Flipwing; “but why
didn’t you tell all this before?”
Flossie hung down her head, and the two brothers looked heartily
ashamed of themselves.
“I see how it is,” said the acute Flipwing; “you wanted to tell, and
your brothers wouldn’t allow you to. Well, I promised not to betray you
if you told me all; but such cowardly actions deserve to be punished,
and I should think your consciences would keep you uneasy. I wouldn’t
want _my_ conscience burdened with the thought that I had left a
brother of mine in the lurch.”
The two cowardly brothers did indeed look as if their consciences were
beginning to work, for they hung their heads in a very shamefaced
manner, and made no reply.
“Now you can go,” said Flipwing, “for I wish to be alone to think;” and
off ran the squirrels, delighted to be released. Even the two cowardly
brothers were greatly relieved to know that the bat had taken it upon
himself to find their lost brother.
All through the day Flipwing remained silently hanging to his tree,
and when night came he suddenly unfolded his long wings and floated
noiselessly away.
That same evening old Rough visited his prisoner, and found everything
going on most satisfactorily. The little squirrel was as pitiful an
object as even he could desire, his former animation gone, and his
once plump body grown very meagre under his scanty fare. All this made
the old miser particularly happy, and he emerged from his den with a
repulsive grin on his grim countenance. Ruffina cautiously followed
him; and as he emerged from the den, he turned and saw her behind him.
“What are you here for? Go back to your charge,” said the old miser,
angrily.
“Do please allow me a little more to eat;” said Ruffina, meekly; “it
is so very little that I grow weaker every day, and I often have a
dreadful pain inside.”
“More to eat!” snarled the old rat. “Are you crazy? What do you suppose
will become of us unless we are very saving? Yes, old lady, we must
pinch and save, unless we wish to die of want.”
“I shall die of starvation unless I have more to eat,” answered
Ruffina, made bold by sheer desperation. “You don’t allow me enough to
keep body and soul together, and I don’t dare leave your prisoner there
long enough to go to seek any.”
“You’d better not, madam,” said the old rat, with a savage snap of his
teeth that caused his wife to start back. “You’d better not! I allow
you all you need to keep alive. A nice state of affairs there would be
if you had your own way!”
“But why not make ourselves comfortable, when you have so much stored
away?” pleaded Ruffina.
A sudden spring toward her by the old miser caused Ruffina to give a
terrified squeak, and rush back into the den. Her husband looked after
her for a moment, and then with a leer of satisfaction he departed.
When he was out of sight, a little dark object emerged from a
neighboring tree, and alighted on a bush that grew near the entrance to
the den; it was Flipwing the spy, who from his place of concealment
had overheard the conversation between the old miser and his wife.
“Ruffina!” called Flipwing.
The summons was repeated several times before the long, sharp nose of
the wary Ruffina was seen emerging from the entrance of the den.
“Oh, there you are!” said Flipwing. “I want to have a few words with
you.”
When she heard her name called, Ruffina poked her long nose farther
out, and cast a sharp glance about her. Nobody was in sight; and she
was about to retreat when she once more heard the same voice, and
following the direction of the sound discovered the little bat.
Now Ruffina was very timid and submissive in the presence of her lord
and master, but when out of his presence was as bold as anybody; and so
she answered gruffly,--
“What do you want at this time of night?”
“I want a little talk with you,” answered Flipwing.
“Well, talk away,” said Ruffina.
It was not easy for Flipwing to begin, for having seen Ruffina so timid
with her husband, he was quite unprepared for this change of manner.
“I say, it’s a shame the old man is so hard on you,” began Flipwing,
after a moment’s pause.
“What’s that to you, pray?” asked Ruffina, shortly.
“I don’t like to see it,” replied Flipwing, determined not to be
bluffed by this cool reception. “The old fellow ought to be more
considerate of you; there are plenty of younger fellows who would
gladly stand in his shoes.”
“Nonsense!” responded Ruffina, bruskly, but in a tone that showed she
was not displeased with this broad flattery.
“Fact,” said Flipwing, “and you know it!”
“I don’t know any such thing,” replied Ruffina.
“You’ll not make me believe that,” said Flipwing. “Didn’t you ever see
yourself reflected in a brook or pool?”
“Well, suppose I have,--what then?”
Flipwing was rather discomfited to find he had made so little headway
in the good graces of the miser’s wife; he had imagined that a little
flattery would make a favorable impression.
“I was going to say,” remarked the bat, “that it is a pity old Rough
keeps you so short, for a little more food would make your coat shine
till you could see your face in it,--not but that it is handsome as it
is, but better fare would make it more so.”
“Well, what of it?” asked Ruffina.
“I was about to add that I could show you where you could eat to your
heart’s content, and take away all you could carry besides. It is but a
short distance from here.”
“No, you don’t!” exclaimed Ruffina, with a shrewd grin.
“What do you mean?” asked Flipwing, innocently.
“I mean, what do you expect me to do in return?”
“Why, nothing,” answered the bat; “can’t you give me credit for being a
little disinterested? I hear you complaining to your husband that you
have not enough to eat, and he harshly refuses to grant you a larger
allowance; what more natural than that I should tell you where you can
find what you want? It doesn’t cost me anything,--_I_ don’t eat acorns.”
“Acorns!” exclaimed Ruffina, her mouth fairly watering at the mention
of the rich, juicy nuts. “Well, where are they?”
“Do you know the two big chestnut-trees in Farmer Smith’s pasture? The
lightning struck one of them last summer and split it. Well, under that
one you will find a hole with some large acorns in it. I saw some
squirrels hiding them there. You just go and help yourself.”
“I can’t!” answered Ruffina. “Rough would kill me if he knew I left the
den.”
“He will not know any thing about it,” said Flipwing.
“He knows everything,” replied Ruffina; “and then I couldn’t leave--”
She stopped abruptly, for in her eagerness for the food for which she
was suffering she had nearly allowed the secret of the prison to escape
her.
“Well, no matter,” replied Flipwing, “do as you like about it; the nuts
are there and will keep.”
“It’s of no use,” said Ruffina, decidedly; “Rough would be sure to come
home the very moment I had left, and then--” A shiver which was more
expressive than words ran through her emaciated frame.
“I’m sorry,” replied the bat, good-naturedly, “for I don’t know when
I’ve seen such fine specimens; they were evidently picked expressly.”
“It’s very kind of you to tell me about them,” said Ruffina, “but it
is impossible for me to go so far;” and with a shake of her head she
slowly re-entered the den.
“She’ll go,” said Flipwing to himself, “and before long too. The poor
creature is nearly starved to death, and can’t resist the temptation.
Well, I will watch my chance, and rescue poor Fluff, if he does not die
of grief and starvation before;” and away flew Flipwing, well-satisfied
with the result of his expedition.
[Illustration: “And then swam quietly home.”]