He was a young blackberry plant; but he was so tiny that he could
scarcely be seen. Indeed, there was such a crush of growing things
round him that it was a wonder he was not choked. He had started life
under a hedge where the tangled weeds grew so thickly that even air was
scarce; it looked for a time as if the little Scrambler must die.
But his heart was bold; he did not give up. He pushed and pushed till
he rose a little higher and could breathe a little more freely; then he
grew a number of strong curved hooks on his arms.
"Kindly allow me to hold on to you," he said to the nearest weeds. He
held on to them with his hooks and rose yet higher in the crowd.
"Take your hooks out. You are hurting us!" cried the weeds. They
tried to grow above him and to crush him down, but he had the start
now, and he made the most of it. Higher and higher he grew, holding on
to the taller plants, and sending out new hooked branches on every side
to help in his support. At last his head rose above all the
surrounding plants. He could breathe freely in the sweet air. "Ah!
this is delightful!" he cried. He grew fast, spreading himself out
widely on both sides.
Next he turned his attention to the hedge. "I must climb to the top,"
he said, "so as to escape its shadow and get all the sunshine there
is." Hook by hook and branch by branch he climbed up the side of the
hedge until he could look over the top.
"Why don't you grow thick stems of your own instead of hanging on to
other people?" grumbled the hedge. But the Scrambler took no notice;
he was busy making his flowers. "Now that I have been so successful, I
must do my duty and bear seeds," he said to himself.
When the buds opened he was starred with pretty white blossoms tinged
here and there with pink. He put plenty of honey in the honey-cups, so
the insects came in crowds and carried his pollen from flower to
flower. "That is well," he said. "Now my seeds will set."
Soon the petals fell and the seeds set. "I must make a sweet berry, so
that the birds will carry my seeds away to grow," he said. So he set
his seeds in berries that turned black and sweet and juicy. The birds
came and picked them, and carried the seeds away to grow.
"I wonder you like to see your children going so far away from you,"
said the Hedge.
"It is the best thing for them," replied the Scrambler. "There is no
room for them here. They would be choked if they fell beneath my
branches."
There was indeed no room for them there. The Scrambler had not only
covered the top of the hedge, but had grown over the other side too,
down to the ground.