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Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions.
LADY MARY AND HER NURSE;
OR,
A PEEP INTO THE CANADIAN FOREST.
by
MRS. TRAILL
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
THE FLYING SQUIRREL--ITS FOOD--STORY OF A WOLF--INDIAN VILLAGE--WILD RICE
CHAPTER II.
SLEIGHING--SLEIGH ROBES--FUR CAPS--OTTER SKINS--OLD SNOW-STORM--OTTER
HUNTING--OTTER SLIDES--INDIAN NAMES--REMARKS ON WILD ANIMALS AND THEIR
HABITS
CHAPTER III.
PART I.--LADY MARY READS TO MRS. FRAZER THE FIRST PART OF THE HISTORY OF
THE SQUIRREL FAMILY
PART II.--WHICH TELLS HOW THE GREY SQUIRRELS GET ON WHILE THEY REMAINED
ON PINE ISLAND--HOW THEY BEHAVED TO THEIR POOR RELATIONS, THE CHITMUNKS--
AND WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM IN THE FOREST
PART III.--HOW THE SQUIRRELS GOT TO THE MILL AT THE RAPIDS--AND WHAT
HAPPENED TO VELVET-PAW
CHAPTER IV.
SQUIRRELS--THE CHITMUNKS--DOCILITY OF A PET ONE--ROGUERY OF A YANKEE
PEDLAR--RETURN OF THE MUSICAL CHITMUNK TO HIS MASTER'S BOSOM--SAGACITY OF
A BLACK SQUIRREL
CHAPTER V.
INDIAN BASKETS--THREAD--PLANTS--MAPLE SUGAR-TREE--INDIAN ORNAMENTAL WORKS
--RACOONS
CHAPTER VI.
CANADIAN FLOWERS--AMERICAN PORCUPINE--CANADIAN BIRDS--SNOW SPARROW-ROBIN
RED-BREAST
CHAPTER VII.
INDIAN BAG--INDIAN EMBROIDERY--BEAVER'S TAIL--BEAVER ARCHITECTURE--HABITS
OF THE BEAVER--BEAVER TOOLS--BEAVER MEADOWS
CHAPTER VIII.
INDIAN BOY AND HIS PETS--TAME BEAVER AT HOME--KITTEN, WILDFIRE--PET
RACOON AND THE SPANIEL PUPPIES--CANADIAN FLORA
CHAPTER IX.
NURSE TELLS LADY MARY ABOUT A LITTLE BOY WHO WAS EATEN BY A BEAR IN THE
PROVINCE OF NEW BRUNSWICK--OF A BABY THAT WAS CARRIED AWAY, BUT TAKEN
ALIVE--A WALK IN THE GARDEN--HUMMING BIRDS--CANADIAN BALSAMS
CHAPTER X.
AURORA BOREALIS, OR NORTHERN LIGHTS, MOST FREQUENTLY SEEN IN NORTHERN
CLIMATES--CALLED MERRY DANCERS--ROSE TINTS--TINT-LIKE APPEARANCE--LADY
MARY FRIGHTENED
CHAPTER XI
STRAWBERRIES--CANADIAN WILD FRUITS--WILD RASPBERRIES--THE HUNTER AND THE
LOST CHILD--CRANBERRIES--CRANBERRY MARSHES--NUTS
CHAPTER XII
GARTER SNAKES--RATTLE SNAKES--ANECDOTE OF A LITTLE BOY--FISHERMAN AND
SNAKE--SNAKE CHARMERS--SPIDERS--LAND TORTOISE
CHAPTER XIII
ELLEN AND HER PET PAWNS--DOCILITY OF PAN--JACK'S DROLL TRICKS--
AFFECTIONATE WOLF--FALL FLOWERS--DEPARTURE OF LADY MARY--THE END
A PEEP INTO THE CANADIAN FOREST.
CHAPTER I.
THE FLYING SQUIRREL--ITS FOOD--STORY OF A WOLF--INDIAN VILLAGE--WILD RICE.
"Nurse, what is the name of that pretty creature you have in your hand?
What bright eyes it has! What a soft tail, just like a grey feather! Is it
a little beaver?" asked the Governor's [Footnote: Lady Mary's father was
Governor of Canada.] little daughter, as her nurse came into the room
where her young charge, whom we shall call Lady Mary, was playing with her
doll.
Carefully sheltered against her breast, its velvet nose just peeping from
beneath her muslin neckerchief, the nurse held a small grey-furred animal,
of the most delicate form and colour.
"No, my lady," she replied, "this is not a young beaver; a beaver is a
much larger animal. A beaver's tail is not covered with fur; it is scaly,
broad, and flat; it looks something like black leather, not very unlike
that of my seal-skin slippers. The Indians eat beavers' tails at their
great feasts, and think they make an excellent dish."
"If they are black, and look like leather shoes, I am very sure I should
not like to eat them; so, if you please, Mrs. Frazer, do not let me have
any beavers' tails cooked for my dinner," said the little lady in a very
decided tone.
"Indeed, my lady," replied her nurse, smiling, "it would not be an easy
thing to obtain, if you wished to taste one, for beavers are not brought
to our market. It is only the Indians and hunters who know how to trap
them, and beavers are not so plentiful as they used to be."
Mrs. Frazer would have told Lady Mary a great deal about the way in which
the trappers take the beavers, but the little girl interrupted her by
saying, "Please, nurse, will you tell me the name of your pretty pet? Ah,
sweet thing! what bright eyes you have!" she added, caressing the soft
little head which was just seen from beneath the folds of the muslin
handkerchief to which it timidly nestled, casting furtive glances at the
admiring child, while the panting of its breast told the mortal terror
that shook its frame whenever the little girl's hand was advanced to coax
its soft back.
"It is a flying squirrel, Lady Mary," replied her nurse; "one of my
brothers caught it a month ago, when he was chopping in the forest. He
thought it might amuse your ladyship, and so he tamed it and sent it to me
in a basket filled with moss, with some acorns, and hickory-nuts, and
beech-mast for him to eat on his journey, for the little fellow has
travelled a long way: he came from the beech-woods near the town of
Coburg, in the Upper Province."
"And where is Coburg, nurse? Is it a large city like Montreal or Quebec?"
"No, my lady; it is a large town on the shores of the great Lake Ontario."
"And are there many woods near it?"
"Yes; but not so many as there used to be many years ago. The forest is
almost all cleared, and there are fields of wheat and Indian corn, and
nice farms and pretty houses, where a few years back the lofty forest grew
dark and thick."
"Nurse, you said there were acorns, and hickory-nuts, and beech-mast in
the basket. I have seen acorns at home in dear England and Scotland, and I
have eaten the hickory-nuts here; but what is beech-mast? Is it in
granaries for winter stores; and wild ducks and wild pigeons come from the
far north at the season when the beech-mast fall, to eat them; for God
teaches these, His creatures, to know the times and the seasons when His
bounteous hand is open to give them food from His boundless store. A great
many other birds and beasts also feed upon the beech-mast."
"It was very good of your brother to send me this pretty creature,
nurse," said the little lady; "I will ask Papa to give him some money."
"There is no need of that, Lady Mary. My brother is not in want; he has a
farm in the Upper Province, and is very well off."
"I am glad he is well off," said Lady Mary; "indeed, I do not see so many
beggars here as in England."
"People need not beg in Canada, if they are well and strong and can work;
a poor man can soon earn enough money to keep himself and his little ones."
"Nurse, will you be so kind as to ask Campbell to get a pretty cage for
my squirrel? I will let him live close to my dormice, who will be pleasant
company for him, and I will feed him every day myself with nuts and sugar,
and sweet cake and white bread. Now do not tremble and look so frightened,
as though I were going to hurt you; and pray, Mr. Squirrel, do not bite.
Oh! nurse, nurse, the wicked, spiteful creature has bitten my finger! See,
see, it has made it bleed! Naughty thing! I will not love you if you bite.
Pray, nurse, bind up my finger, or it will soil my frock."
Great was the pity bestowed upon the wound by Lady Mary's kind attendant,
till the little girl, tired of hearing so much said about the bitten
finger, gravely desired her maid to go in search of the cage, and catch
the truant, which had effected its escape, and was clinging to the
curtains of the bed. The cage was procured--a large wooden cage, with an
outer and an inner chamber, a bar for the little fellow to swing himself
on, and a drawer for his food, and a little dish for his water. The
sleeping-room was furnished by the nurse with soft wool, and a fine store
of nuts was put in the drawer; all his wants were well supplied, and Lady
Mary watched the catching of the little animal with much interest. Great
was the activity displayed by the runaway squirrel, and still greater the
astonishment evinced by the Governor's little daughter, at the flying
leaps made by the squirrel in its attempts to elude the grasp of its
pursuers.
"It flies! I am sure it must have wings. Look, look, nurse! it is here,
now it is on the wall, now on the curtains! It must have wings, but it has
no feathers!"
"It has no wings, dear lady, but it has a fine ridge of fur, that covers
a strong sinew or muscle between the fore and hinder legs; and it is by
the help of this muscle that it is able to spring so far, and so fast; and
its claws are so sharp that it can cling to a wall, or any flat surface.
The black and red squirrels, and the common grey, can jump very far, and
run up the bark of the trees very fast, but not so fast as the flying
squirrel."
At last Lady Mary's maid, with the help of one of the housemaids,
succeeded in catching the squirrel, and securing him within his cage. But
though Lady Mary tried all her words of endearment to coax the little
creature to eat some of the good things that had been provided so
liberally for his entertainment, he remained sullen and motionless at the
bottom of the cage. A captive is no less a captive in a cage with gilded
bars, and with dainties to eat, than if rusted iron shut him in, and kept
him from enjoying his freedom. It is for dear liberty that he pines, and
is sad, even in the midst of plenty!
"Dear nurse, why does my little squirrel tremble and look so unhappy?
Tell me if he wants anything to eat that we have not given him. Why does
he not lie down and sleep on the nice soft bed you have made for him in
his little chamber? See, he has not tasted the nice sweet cake and sugar
that I gave him."
"He is not used to such dainties, Lady Mary. In the forest, he feeds upon
hickory-nuts, and butter-nuts, and acorns, and beech-mast, and the buds of
the spruce, fir and pine kernels, and many other seeds and nuts and
berries, that we could not get for him; he loves grain too, and Indian
corn. He sleeps on green moss and leaves, and fine fibres of grass and
roots; and drinks heaven's blessed dew, as it lies bright and pure upon
the herbs of the field."
"Dear little squirrel, pretty creature! I know now what makes you sad.
You long to be abroad among your own green woods, and sleeping on the soft
green moss, which is far prettier than this ugly cotton wool. But you
shall stay with me, my sweet one, till the cold winter is passed and gone,
and the spring flowers have come again; and then, my pretty squirrel, I
will take you out of your dull cage, and we will go to St. Helen's green
island, and I will let you go free; but I will put a scarlet collar about
your neck before I let you go, that, if any one finds you, they may know
that you are my squirrel. Were you ever in the green forest, nurse? I hear
Papa talk about the 'Bush' and the 'Backwoods;' it must be very pleasant
in the summer, to live among the green trees. Were you ever there?"
"Yes, dear lady, I did live in the woods when I was a child. I was born
in a little log-shanty, far, far away up the country, near a beautiful
lake, called Rice Lake, among woods, and valleys, and hills covered with
flowers, and groves of pine, and white and black oaks."
"Stop, nurse, and tell me why they are called black and white; are the
flowers black and white?"
"No, my lady; it is because the wood of the one is darker than the other,
and the leaves of the black oak are dark and shining, while those of the
white oak are brighter and lighter. The black oak is a beautiful tree.
When I was a young girl, I used to like to climb the sides of the steep
valleys, and look down upon the tops of the oaks that grew beneath; and to
watch the wind lifting the boughs all glittering in the moonlight; they
looked like a sea of ruffled green water. It is very solemn, Lady Mary, to
be in the woods by night, and to hear no sound but the cry of the great
wood-owl, or the voice of the whip-poor-will, calling to his fellow from
the tamarack swamp; or, may be, the timid bleating of a fawn that has lost
its mother, or the howl of a wolf."
"Nurse, I should be so afraid; I am sure I should cry if I heard the
wicked wolves howling in the dark woods, by night. Did you ever know any
one who was eaten by a wolf?"
"No, my lady; the Canadian wolf is a great coward. I have heard the
hunters say, that they never attack any one, unless there is a great flock
together and the man is alone and unarmed. My uncle used to go out a great
deal hunting, sometimes by torchlight, and sometimes on the lake in a
canoe, with the Indians; and he shot and trapped a great many wolves and
foxes and racoons. He has a great many heads of wild animals nailed up on
the stoup in front of his log-house."
"Please tell me what a stoup is, nurse?"
"A verandah, my lady, is the same thing, only the old Dutch settlers gave
it the name of a stoup; and the stoup is heavier and broader, and not
quite so nicely made as a verandah. One day my uncle was crossing the lake
on the ice; it was a cold winter afternoon; he was in a hurry to take some
food to his brothers, who were drawing pine-logs in the bush. He had,
besides a bag of meal and flour, a new axe on his shoulder. He heard steps
as of a dog trotting after him; he turned his head, and there he saw close
at his heels, a big, hungry-looking grey wolf; he stopped and faced about,
and the big beast stopped and showed his white sharp teeth. My uncle did
not feel afraid, but looked steadily at the wolf, as much as to say,
'Follow me if you dare,' and walked on. When my uncle stopped, the wolf
stopped; when he went on, the beast also went on.
"I would have run away," said Lady Mary.
"If my uncle had let the wolf see that he was afraid of him, he would
have grown bolder, and have run after him and seized him. All animals are
afraid of brave men, but not of cowards. When the beast came too near, my
uncle faced him, and showed the bright axe, and the wolf then shrank back
a few paces. When my uncle got near the shore, he heard a long wild cry,
as if from twenty wolves at once. It might have been the echoes from the
islands that increased the sound; but it was very frightful, and made his
blood chill, for he knew that without his rifle he should stand a poor
chance against a large pack of hungry wolves. Just then a gun went off; he
heard the wolf give a terrible yell, he felt the whizzing of a bullet pass
him, and, turning about, saw the wolf lying dead on the ice. A loud shout
from the cedars in front told him from whom the shot came; it was my
father, who had been on the look-out on the lake shore, and he had fired
at and hit the wolf, when he saw that he could do so without hurting his
brother."
"Nurse, it would have been a sad thing if the gun had shot your uncle."
"It would; but my father was one of the best shots in the district, and
could hit a white spot on the bark of a tree at a great distance without
missing. It was an old Indian from Buckhorn Lake, who taught him to shoot
deer by torchlight, and to trap beavers."
"Well, I am glad that horrid wolf was killed, for wolves eat sheep and
lambs; and I dare say they would devour my little squirrel if they could
get him. Nurse, please to tell me again the name of the lake near which
you were born."
"It is called Rice Lake, my lady. It is a fine piece of water, more than
twenty miles long, and from three to five miles broad. It has pretty
wooded islands, and several rivers or streams empty themselves into it.
The Otonabee River is a fine broad stream, which flows through the forest
a long way. Many years ago, there were no clearings on the banks, and no
houses, only Indian tents or wigwams; but now, there are a great many
houses and farms."
"What are wigwams?"
"A sort of light tent, made with poles stuck into the ground, in a
circle, fastened together at the top, and covered on the outside with
skins of wild animals, or with birch bark. The Indians light a fire of
sticks and logs on the ground, in the middle of the wigwam, and lie or sit
all round it; the smoke goes up to the top and escapes. In the winter,
they bank it up with snow, and it is very warm."
"I think it must be a very ugly sort of house; and I am glad I do not
live in an Indian wigwam," said the little lady.
"The Indians are a very simple folk, my lady, and do not need fine
houses, like this in which your papa lives. They do not know the names or
uses of half the fine things that are in the houses of the white people.
They are happy and contented without them. It is not the richest that are
happiest, Lady Mary, and the Lord careth for the poor and the lowly. There
is a village on the shores of Rice Lake where the Indians live. It is not
very pretty. The houses are all built of logs, and some of them have
gardens and orchards. They have a neat church, and they have a good
minister, who takes great pains to teach them the Gospel of the Lord Jesus
Christ. The poor Indians were Pagans until within the last few years."
"What are Pagans, nurse?"
"People, Lady Mary, who do not believe in God, and the Lord Jesus Christ,
our blessed Saviour."
"Nurse, is there real rice growing in the Rice Lake? I heard my governess
say that rice grew only in warm countries. Now, your lake must be very
cold if your uncle walked across the ice."
"This rice, my lady, is not real rice. I heard a gentleman tell my father,
that it was, properly speaking, a species of oats, [Footnote: Zizania or
water oats.]--water oats he called it, but the common name for it is wild
rice. This wild rice grows in vast beds in the lake, in patches of many
acres. It will grow in water from eight to ten or twelve feet deep; the
grassy leaves float upon the water like long narrow green ribbons. In the
month of August, the stem that is to bear the flower and the grain rises
straight up, above the surface, and light delicate blossoms come out of a
pale straw colour and lilac. They are very pretty, and wave in the wind
with a rustling noise. In the month of October, when the rice is ripe, the
leaves turn yellow, and the rice-heads grow heavy and droop; then the
squaws--as the Indian women are called--go out in their birch-bark canoes,
holding in one hand a stick, in the other a short curved paddle, with a
sharp edge. With this, they bend down the rice across the stick, and strike
off the heads, which fall into the canoe, as they push it along through the
rice-beds. In this way they collect a great many bushels in the course of
the day. The wild rice is not the least like the rice which your ladyship
has eaten; it is thin and covered with a light chaffy husk. The colour of
the grain itself is a brownish green, or olive, smooth, shining, and
brittle. After separating the outward chaff, the squaws put by a large
portion of the clean rice in its natural state for sale; for this they get
from a dollar and a half to two dollars a bushel. Some they parch, either
in large pots, or on mats made of the inner bark of cedar or bass wood,
beneath which they light a slow fire, and plant around it a temporary hedge
of green boughs, closely set to prevent the heat from escaping; they also
plant stakes, over which they stretch the matting at a certain height above
the fire. On this they spread the green rice, stirring it about with wooden
paddles, till it is properly parched; this is known by its bursting and
showing the white grain of the flour. When quite cool it is stowed away in
troughs, scooped out of butter-nut wood, or else sewed up in sheets of
birch-bark or bass-mats, or in coarsely made birch-bark baskets."
"And is the rice good to eat, nurse?"
"Some people like it as well as the white rice of Carolina; but it does
not look so well. It is a great blessing to the poor Indians, who boil it
in their soups, or eat it with maple molasses. And they eat it when
parched without any other cooking, when they are on a long journey in the
woods, or on the lakes. I have often eaten nice puddings made of it with
milk. The deer feed upon the green rice. They swim into the water, and eat
the green leaves and tops. The Indians go out at night to shoot the deer
on the water; they listen for them, and shoot them in the dark. The wild
ducks and water-fowls come down in great flocks to fatten on the ripe rice
in the fall of the year; also large flocks of rice buntings and red wings
which make their roosts among the low willows, flags, and lilies close to
the shallows of the lake."
"It seems very useful to birds as well as to men and beasts," said little
Lady Mary.
"Yes, my lady, and to fishes also, I make no doubt; for the good God has
cast it so abundantly abroad on the waters, that I dare say they also have
their share. When the rice is fully ripe, the sun shining on it gives it a
golden hue, just like a field of ripened grain. Surrounded by the deep
blue waters, it looks very pretty."
"I am very much obliged to you, nurse, for telling me so much about the
Indian rice, and I will ask mamma to let me have some one day for my
dinner, that I may know how it tastes."
Just then Lady Mary's governess came to bid her nurse dress her for a
sleigh-ride, and so for the present we shall leave her; but we will tell
our little readers something more in another chapter about Lady Mary and
her flying squirrel.
CHAPTER II.
SLEIGHING--SLEIGH ROBES--FUR CAPS--OTTER SKINS--OLD SNOW-STORM--OTTER
HUNTING--OTTER SLIDES--INDIAN NAMES--REMARKS ON WILD ANIMALS AND THEIR
HABITS.
"Nurse, we have had a very nice sleigh-drive. I like sleighing very much
over the white snow. The trees look so pretty, as if they were covered
with white flowers, and the ground sparkled just like mamma's diamonds."
"It is pleasant, Lady Mary, to ride through the woods on a bright
sunshiny day, after a fresh fall of snow. The young evergreens, hemlocks,
balsams, and spruce-trees, are loaded with great masses of the new-fallen
snow; while the slender saplings of the beech, birch, and basswood are
bent down to the very ground, making bowers so bright and beautiful, you
would be delighted to see them. Sometimes, as you drive along, great
masses of the snow come showering down upon you; but it is so light and
dry, that it shakes off without wetting you. It is pleasant to be wrapped
up in warm blankets, or buffalo robes, at the bottom of a lumber-sleigh,
and to travel through the forest by moonlight; the merry bells echoing
through the silent woods, and the stars just peeping down through the
frosted trees, which sparkle like diamonds in the moonbeams."
"Nurse, I should like to take a drive through the forest in winter. It is
so nice to hear the sleigh-bells. We used sometimes to go out in the snow
in Scotland, but we were in the carriage, and had no bells."
"No, Lady Mary: the snow seldom lies long enough in the old country to
make it worth while to have sleighs there; but in Russia and Sweden, and
other cold Northern countries, they use sleighs with bells."
Lady Mary ran to the little bookcase where she had a collection of
children's books, and very soon found, in one of Peter Parley's books, a
picture of Laplanders and Russians wrapped in furs sleighing.
"How long will the winter last, nurse?" said the child, after she had
tired herself with looking at the prints; "a long, long time--a great many
weeks?--a great many months?"
"Yes, my lady; five or six months."
"Oh, that is nice--nearly half a year of white snow, and sleigh-drives
every day, and bells ringing all the time! I tried to make out a tune, but
they only seemed to say, 'Up-hill, up-hill! down-hill, down-hill!' all the
way. Nurse, please tell me what are sleigh-robes made of?"
"Some sleigh-robes, Lady Mary, are made of bear-skins, lined with red or
blue flannel; some are of wolf-skins, lined with bright scarlet cloth; and
some of racoon; the commonest are buffalo-skins: I have seen some of
deer-skins, but these last are not so good, as the hair comes off, and they
are not so warm as the skins of the furred or woolly-coated animals."
"I sometimes see long tails hanging down over the backs of the sleigh and
cutters--they look very pretty, like the end of mamma's boa."
"The wolf and racoon skin robes are generally made up with the tails, and
sometimes the heads of the animals are also left. I noticed the head of a
wolf, with its sharp ears, and long white teeth, looking very fierce, at
the back of a cutter, the other day."
"Nurse, that must have looked very droll. Do you know, I saw a gentleman
the other day, walking with papa, who had a fox-skin cap on his head, and
the fox's nose was just peeping over his shoulder, and the tail hung down
his back, and I saw its bright black eyes looking so cunning. I thought it
must be alive, and that it had curled itself round his head; but the
gentleman took it off, and showed me that the eyes were glass."
"Some hunters, Lady Mary, make caps of otter, mink, or badger skins, and
ornament them with the tails, heads, and claws."
"I have seen a picture of the otter, nurse; it is a pretty, soft-looking
thing, with a round head and black eyes. Where do otters live?"
"The Canadian otters, Lady Mary, live in holes in the banks of sedgy,
shallow lakes, mill-ponds, and sheltered creeks. The Indian hunters find
their haunts by tracking their steps in the snow; for an Indian or
Canadian hunter knows the track made by any bird or beast, from the deep
broad print of the bear, to the tiny one of the little shrewmouse, which
is the smallest four-footed beast in this or any other country.
"Indians catch the otter, and many other wild animals, in a sort of trap,
which they call a 'dead-fall.' Wolves are often so trapped, and then shot.
The Indians catch the otter for the sake of its dark shining fur, which is
used by the hatters and furriers. Old Jacob Snowstorm, an old Indian who
lived on the banks of the Rice Lake, used to catch otters; and I have
often listened to him, and laughed at his stories."
"Do, please, nurse, tell me what old Jacob Snow-storm told you about the
otters; I like to hear stories about wild beasts. But what a droll surname
Snow-storm is!"
"Yes, Lady Mary; Indians have very odd names; they are called after all
sorts of strange things. They do not name the children, as we do, soon
after they are born, but wait for some remarkable circumstance, some dream
or accident. Some call them after the first strange animal or bird that
appears to the new-born. Old Snow-storm most likely owed his name to a
heavy fall of snow when he was a baby. I knew a chief named Musk-rat, and
a pretty Indian girl who was named 'Badau'-bun,' or the 'Light of the
Morning.'"
"And what is the Indian name for Old Snow-storm?"
"'Be-che-go-ke-poor,' my lady."
Lady Mary said it was a funny sounding name, and not at all like
Snow-storm, which she liked a great deal better; and she was much amused
while her nurse repeated to her some names of squaws and papooses (Indian
women and children); such as Long Thrush, Little Fox, Running Stream,
Snow-bird, Red Cloud, Young Eagle, Big Bush, and many others.
"Now, nurse, will you tell me some more about Jacob Snow-storm and the
otters?"
"Well, Lady Mary, the old man had a cap of otter-skin, of which he was
very proud, and only wore on great days. One day as he was playing with
it, he said:--'Otter funny fellow; he like play too, sometimes. Indian go
hunting up Ottawa, that great big river, you know. Go one moonlight night;
lie down under bushes in snow: see lot of little fellow and big fellow at
play. Run tip and down bank; bank all ice. Sit down top of bank; good
slide there. Down he go splash into water; out again. Funny fellow those!'
And then the old hunter threw back his head, and laughed, till you could
have seen all his white teeth, he opened his mouth so wide."
Lady Mary was very much amused at the comical way in which the old Indian
talked.
"Can otters swim, nurse?"
"Yes, Lady Mary; the good God, who has created all things well, has given
to this animal webbed feet, which enable it to swim; and it can also dive
down in the deep water, where it finds fish and mussels, and perhaps the
roots of some water-plants to eat. It makes very little motion or
disturbance in the water when it goes down in search of its prey. Its coat
is thick, and formed of two kinds of hair; the outer hair is long, silky,
and shining; the under part is short, fine, and warm. The water cannot
penetrate to wet them,--the oily nature of the fur throws off the
moisture. They dig large holes with their claws, which are short, but very
strong. They line their nests with dry grass and rushes and roots gnawed
fine, and do not pass the winter in sleep, as the dormice, flying
squirrels, racoons, and bears do. They are very innocent and playful, both
when young and even after they grow old. The lumberers often tame them,
and they become so docile that they will come at a call or whistle. Like
all wild animals, they are most lively at night, when they come out to
feed and play."
"Dear little things! I should like to have a tame otter to play with, and
run after me; but do you think he would eat my squirrel? You know cats
will eat squirrels--so mamma says."
"Cats belong to a very different class of animals; they are beasts of
prey, formed to spring and bound, and tear with their teeth and claws. The
otter is also a beast of prey, but its prey is found in the still waters,
and not on the land; it can neither climb nor leap. So I do not think he
would hurt your squirrel, if you had one."
"See, nurse, my dear little squirrel is still where I left him, clinging
to the wires of the cage, his bright eyes looking like two black beads."
"As soon as it grows dark he will begin to be more lively, and perhaps he
will eat something, but not while we look at him--he is too shy for that."
"Nurse, how can they see to eat in the dark?"
"The good God, Lady Mary, has so formed their eyes that they can see best
by night. I will read you, Lady Mary, a few Verses from Psalm civ.:--
"Verse 19. He appointed the moon for seasons: the sun knoweth his
going down.
20. Thou makest darkness, and it is night: wherein all the beasts
of the forest do creep forth.
21. The young lions roar after their prey, and seek their meat from
God.
22. The sun ariseth, they gather themselves together, and lay them
down in their dens.
23. Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labour until the
evening.
24. O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made
them all: the eath is full of thy riches.
"Thus you see, my dear lady, that our heavenly Father taketh care of all
his creatures, and provideth for them both by day and by night."
"I remember, nurse, that my dormice used to lie quite still, nestled
among the moss and wool in their little dark chamber in the cage, all day
long; but when it was night they used to come out and frisk about, and run
along the wires, and play all sorts of tricks, chasing one another round
and round, and they were not afraid of me, but would let me look at them
while they ate a nut, or a bit of sugar; and the dear little things would
drink out of their little white saucer, and wash their faces and tails--it
was so pretty to see them!"
"Did you notice, Lady Mary, how the dormice held their food?"
"Yes, they sat up, and held it in their fore-paws, which looked just like
tiny hands."
"There are many animals whose fore-feet resemble hands, and these,
generally, convey their food to their mouths--among these are the squirrel
and dormice. They are good climbers and diggers. You see, my dear young
lady, how the merciful Creator has given to all his creatures, however
lowly, the best means of supplying their wants, whether of food or
shelter."
"Indeed, nurse, I have learned a great deal about squirrels, Canadian
rice, otters, and Indians; but, if you please, I must now have a little
play with my doll. Good-bye, Mrs. Frazer,--pray take care of my dear
little squirrel, and mind that he does not fly away." And Lady Mary was
soon busily engaged in drawing her wax doll about the nursery in a little
sleigh lined with red squirrel fur robes, and talking to her as all
children like to talk to their dolls, whether they be rich or poor--the
children of peasants, or governors' daughters.
CHAPTER III.
LADY MARY READS TO MRS. FRAZER THE FIRST PART OF THE HISTORY OF THE
SQUIRREL FAMILY.
One day Lady Mary came to her nurse, and putting her arms about her neck,
whispered to her,--"Mrs. Frazer, my dear good governess has given me
something--it is in my hand," and she slily held her hand behind her--
"will you guess what it is?"
"Is it a book, my lady?"
"Yes, yes, it is a book, a pretty book; and see, here are pictures of
squirrels in it. Mrs. Frazer, if you like, I will sit down on this cushion
by you and read some of my new book. It does not seem very hard."
Then Mrs. Frazer took out her work-basket and sat down to sew, and Lady
Mary began to read the little story, which, I hope, may entertain my
little readers as much as it did the Governor's daughter.
THE HISTORY OF A SQUIRREL FAMILY
It must be a pleasant thing to be a squirrel, and live a life of freedom
in the boundless forests; to leap and bound among the branches of the tall
trees; to gambol in the deep shade of the cool glossy leaves, through the
long warm summer day; to gather the fresh nuts and berries; to drink the
pure dews of heaven, all bright and sparkling from the opening flowers; to
sleep on soft beds of moss and thistle-down in some hollow branch rocked
by the wind as in a cradle. Yet, though this was the happy life led by a
family of pretty grey squirrels that had their dwelling in the hoary
branch of an old oak-tree that grew on one of the rocky islands in a
beautiful lake in Upper Canada, called _Stony Lake_ (because it was
full of rocky islands), these little creatures were far from being
contented, and were always wishing for a change. Indeed, they had been
very happy, till one day when a great black squirrel swam to the island
and paid them a visit. He was a very fine handsome fellow, nearly twice as
large as any of the grey squirrels; he had a tail that flourished over his
back, when he set it up, like a great black feather; his claws were sharp
and strong, and his eyes very round and bright; he had upright ears, and
long, sharp teeth, of which he made good use. The old grey squirrels
called him cousin, and invited him to dinner. They very civilly set before
him some acorns and beech-nuts; but he proved a hungry visitor, and ate as
much as would have fed the whole family for a week. After the grey
squirrels had cleared away the shells and scraps, they asked their greedy
guest where he came from, when Blackie told them he was a great traveller,
and had seen many wonderful things; that he had once lived on a forked
pine at the head of the Waterfall, but being tired of a dull life, he had
gone out on his travels to see the world; that he had been down the lake,
and along the river shore, where there were great places cut out in the
thick forest, called clearings, where some very tall creatures lived, who
were called men and women, with young ones called children; that though
they were not so pretty as squirrels--for they had no fur on them, and
were obliged to make clothes to cover them and keep them warm--they were
very useful, and sowed corn and planted fruit-trees and roots for
squirrels to eat, and even built large grain stores to keep it safe and
dry for them.
This seemed very strange, and the simple little grey squirrels were very
much pleased, and said they should like very much to go down the lakes
too, and see these wonderful things.
The black squirrel then told them that there were many things to be seen
in these clearings: that there were large beasts, called oxen, and cows,
and sheep, and pigs; and these creatures had houses built for them to live
in; and all the men and women seemed to employ themselves about, was
feeding and taking care of them.
Now this cunning fellow never told his simple cousins that the oxen had
to bear a heavy wooden yoke and chain, and were made to work very hard;
nor that the cows were fed that they might give milk to the children; nor
that the pigs were fatted to make pork; nor that the sheep had their warm
fleeces cut off every year that the settlers might have the wool to spin
and weave. Blackie did not say that the men carried guns, and the dogs
were fierce, and would hunt poor squirrels from tree to tree, frightening
them almost to death with their loud, angry barking; that cats haunted the
barns and houses, and, in short, that there were dangers as well as
pleasures to be met with in these clearings; and that the barns were built
to shelter the grain for men, and not for the benefit of squirrels.
The black squirrel proved rather a troublesome guest, for he stayed
several days, and ate so heartily, that the old grey squirrels were
obliged to hint that he had better go back to the clearings, where there
was so much food, for that their store was nearly done.
When Blackie found that all the nice nuts were eaten, and that even
pine-kernels and beech-nuts were becoming scarce, he went away, saying that
he should soon come again.
The old grey squirrels were glad when they saw the tip of Blackie's tail
disappear, as he whisked down the trunk of the old oak; but their young
ones were very sorry that he was gone, for they liked very much to listen
to all his wonderful stories, which they thought were true; and they told
their father and mother how they wished they would leave the dull island
and the old tree, and go down the lakes, and see the wonderful things that
their black cousin had described.
But the old ones shook their heads, and said they feared there was more
fiction than truth in the tales they had heard, and that if they were wise
they would stay where they were. "What do you want more, my dear
children," said their mother, "than you enjoy here? Have you not this
grand old oak for a palace to live in; its leaves and branches spreading
like a canopy over your heads, to shelter you from the hot sun by day and
the dews by night? Are there not moss, dried grass, and roots beneath, to
make a soft bed for you to lie upon? and do not the boughs drop down a
plentiful store of brown ripe acorns? That silver lake, studded with
islands of all shapes and sizes, produces cool clear water for you to
drink and bathe yourselves in. Look at those flowers that droop their
blossoms down to its glassy surface, and the white lilies that rest upon
its bosom,--will you see anything fairer or better if you leave this
place? Stay at home and be contented."
"If I hear any more grumbling," said their father, "I shall pinch your
ears and tails." So the little squirrels said no more, but I am sorry to
say they did not pay much heed to their wise, old mother's counsels; for
whenever they were alone, all their talk was how to run away, and go
abroad to see the world, as their black cousin had called the new
settlement down the lakes. It never came into the heads of the silly
creatures that those wonderful stories they had been told originated in an
artful scheme of the greedy black squirrel, to induce them to leave their
warm pleasant house in the oak, that he and his children might come and
live in it, and get the hoards of grain, and nuts, and acorns, that their
father and mother had been laying up for winter stores.
Moreover, the wily black squirrel had privately told them that their
father and mother intended to turn them out of the nest very soon, and
make provision for a new family. This indeed was really the case; for as
soon as young animals can provide for themselves, their parents turn them
off, and care no more for them. Very different, indeed, is this from our
parents; for they love and cherish us as long as they live, and afford us
a home and shelter as long as we need it.
Every hour these little grey squirrels grew more and more impatient to
leave the lonely little rocky island, though it was a pretty spot, and the
place of their birth; but they were now eager to go abroad and seek their
fortunes.
"Let us keep our own counsel," said Nimble-foot to his sisters Velvet-paw
and Silver-nose, "or we may chance to get our tails pulled; but be all
ready for a start by early dawn to-morrow."
Velvet-paw and Silver-nose said they would be up before sunrise, as they
should have a long voyage down the lake, and agreed to rest on Pine Island
near the opening of Clear Lake. "And then take to the shore and travel
through the woods, where, no doubt, we shall have a pleasant time," said
Nimble-foot, who was the most hopeful of the party.
The sun was scarcely yet risen over the fringe of dark pines that skirted
the shores of the lake, and a soft creamy mist hung on the surface of the
still waters, which were unruffled by the slightest breeze. The little grey
squirrels awoke, and looked sleepily out from the leafy screen that shaded
their mossy nest. The early notes of the wood-thrush and song-sparrow, with
the tender warbling of the tiny wren, sounded sweetly in the still, dewy
morning air; while from a cedar swamp was heard the trill of the green
frogs, which the squirrels thought very pretty music. As the sun rose above
the tops of the trees, the mist rolled off in light fleecy clouds, and soon
was lost in the blue sky, or lay in large bright drops on the cool grass
and shining leaves. Then all the birds awoke, and the insects shook their
gauzy wings which had been folded all the night in the flower-cups, and the
flowers began to lift their heads, and the leaves to expand to catch the
golden light. There was a murmur on the water as it played among the
sedges, and lifted the broad floating leaves of the white water-lilies,
with their carved ivory cups; and the great green, brown, and blue
dragon-flies rose with a whirring sound, and darted to and fro among the
water flowers.
It is a glorious sight to see the sun rise at any time, for then we can
look upon him without having our eyes dazzled with the brightness of his
beams; and though there were no men and women and little children, in the
lonely waters and woods, to lift up their hands and voices in prayer and
praise to God, who makes the sun to rise each day, yet no doubt the great
Creator is pleased to see his creatures rejoice in the blessings of light
and heat.
Lightly running down the rugged bark of the old oak-tree, the little
squirrels bade farewell to their island home--to the rocks, mosses, ferns,
and flowers that had sheltered them, among which they had so often chased
each other in merry gambols. They thought little of all this, when they
launched themselves on the silver bosom of the cool lake.
"How easy it is to swim in this clear water!" said Silver-nose to her
sister Velvet-paw. "We shall not be long in reaching yonder island, and
there, no doubt, we shall get a good breakfast."
So the little swimmers proceeded on their voyage, furrowing the calm
waters as they glided noiselessly along; their soft grey heads and ears
and round black eyes only being seen, and the bright streaks caused by the
motion of their tails, which lay flat on the surface, looking like silver
threads gently floating on the stream.
Not being much used to the fatigue of swimming, the little squirrels were
soon tired, and if it had not been for a friendly bit of stick that
happened to float near her, poor Velvet-paw would have been drowned;
however, she got up on the stick, and, setting up her fine broad tail, went
merrily on, and soon passed Nimble-foot and Silver-nose. The current drew
the stick towards the Pine Island that lay at the entrance of Clear Lake,
and Velvet-paw leaped ashore, and sat down on a mossy stone to dry her fur,
and watch for her brother and sister: they, too, found a large piece of
birch-bark which the winds had blown into the water, and as a little breeze
had sprung up to waft them along, they were not very long before they
landed on the island. They were all very glad when they met again, after
the perils and fatigues of the voyage. The first thing to be done was to
look for something to eat, for their early rising had made them very
hungry. They found abundance of pine-cones strewn on the ground, but, alas
for our little squirrels! very few kernels in them; for the crossbills and
chiccadees had been at work for many weeks on the trees; and also many
families of their poor relations, the chitmunks or ground squirrels, had
not been idle, as our little voyagers could easily guess by the chips and
empty cones round their holes. So, weary as they were, they were obliged to
run up the tall pine and hemlock trees, to search among the cones that grew
on their very top branches. While our squirrels were busy with the few
kernels they chanced to find, they were startled from their repast by the
screams of a large slate-coloured hawk, and Velvet-paw very narrowly
escaped being pounced upon and carried off in its sharp-hooked talons.
Silver-nose at the same time was nearly frightened to death by the keen
round eyes of a cunning racoon, which had come within a few feet of the
mossy branch of an old cedar, where she sat picking the seeds out of a dry
head of a blue flag-flower she had found on the shore. Silvy, at this
sight, gave a spring that left her many yards beyond her sharp-sighted
enemy.
A lively note of joy was uttered by Nimblefoot, for, perched at his ease on
a top branch of the hemlock-tree, he had seen the bound made by
Silver-nose.
"Well jumped, Silvy," said he; "Mister Coon must be a smart fellow to
equal that. But look sharp, or you will get your neck wrung yet; I see we
must keep a good look-out in this strange country."
"I begin to wish we were safe back again in our old one," whined Silvy,
who was much frightened by the danger she had just escaped.
"Pooh, pooh, child; don't be a coward," said Nimble, laughing.
"Cousin Blackie never told us there were hawks and coons on this island,"
said Velvet-paw.
"My dear, he thought we were too brave to be afraid of hawks and coons,"
said Nimble. "For my part, I think it is a fine thing to go out a little
into the world. We should never see anything better than the sky and the
water, and the old oak-tree on that little island."
"Ay, but I think it is safer to see than to be seen," said Silvy, "for
hawks and eagles have strong beaks, and racoons sharp claws and
hungry-looking teeth; and it is not very pleasant, Nimble, to be obliged to
look out for such wicked creatures."
"Oh, true indeed," said Nimble; "if it had not been for that famous jump
you made, Silvy, and, Velvet, your two admirers, the hawk and racoon,
would soon have hid all your beauties from the world, and put a stop to
your travels."
"It is very well for brother Nimble to make light of our dangers,"
whispered Velvet-paw, "but let us see how he will jump if a big eagle were
to pounce down to carry him off."
"Yes, yes," said Silvy; "it is easy to brag before one is in danger."
The squirrels thought they would now go and look for some
partridge-berries, of which they were very fond, for the pine-kernels were
but dry husky food after all.
There were plenty of the pretty white star-shaped blossoms, growing all
over the ground under the pine-trees, but the bright scarlet twin-berries
were not yet ripe. In winter the partridges eat this fruit from under the
snow; and it furnishes food for many little animals as well as birds. The
leaves are small, of a dark green, and the white flowers have a very fine
fragrant scent. Though the runaways found none of these berries fit to
eat, they saw some ripe strawberries among the bushes; and, having
satisfied their hunger, began to grow very merry, and whisked here and
there and everywhere, peeping into this hole and under that stone.
Sometimes they had a good game of play, chasing one another up and down
the trees, chattering and squeaking as grey squirrels only can chatter and
squeak, when they are gambolling about in the wild woods of Canada.
Indeed, they made such a noise, that the great ugly black snakes lifted
up their heads, and stared at them with their wicked spiteful-looking
eyes, and the little ducklings swimming among the water-lilies, gathered
round their mother, and a red-winged blackbird perched on a dead tree gave
alarm to the rest of the flock by calling out, _Geck, geck, geck,_ as
loudly as he could. In the midst of their frolics, Nimble skipped into a
hollow log--but was glad to run out again; for a porcupine covered with
sharp spines was there, and was so angry at being disturbed, that he stuck
one of his spines into poor Nimble-foot's soft velvet nose, and there it
would have remained if Silvy had not seized it with her teeth and pulled
it out. Nimble-foot squeaked sadly, and would not play any longer, but
rolled himself up and went to sleep in a red-headed woodpecker's old nest;
while Silvy and Velvet-paw frisked about in the moonlight, and when tired
of play got up into an old oak which had a large hollow place in the crown
of it, and fell asleep, fancying, no doubt, that they were on the rocky
island in Stony Lake; and so we will bid them good night, and wish them
pleasant dreams.
* * * * *
Lady Mary had read a long while, and was now tired; so she kissed her
nurse, and-said "Now, Mrs. Frazer, I will play with my doll, and feed my
squirrel and my dormice."
The dormice were two soft, brown creatures, almost as pretty and as
innocent as the squirrel, and a great deal tamer; and they were called
Jeannette and Jeannot, and would come when they were called by their
names, and take a bit of cake or a lump of sugar out of the fingers of
their little mistress. Lady Mary had two canaries, Dick and Pet; and she
loved her dormice and birds, and her new pet the flying squirrel, very
much, and never let them want for food, or water, or any nice thing she
could get for them. She liked the history of the grey squirrels very much;
and was quite eager to get her book the next afternoon, to read the second
part of the adventures and wanderings of the family.
PART II.
WHICH TELLS HOW THE GREY SQUIRRELS GET ON WHILE THEY REMAINED ON PINE
ISLAND--HOW THEY BEHAVED TO THEIR POOR RELATIONS, THE CHITMUNKS--AND WHAT
HAPPENED TO THEM IN THE FOREST.
It was noon when the little squirrels awoke, and, of course, they were
quite ready for their breakfast; but there was no good, kind old mother to
provide for their wants, and to bring nuts, acorns, roots, or fruit for
them; they must now get up, go forth, and seek food for themselves. When
Velvet-paw and Silver-nose went to call Nimble-foot, they were surprised
to find his nest empty; but after searching a long while, they found him
sitting on the root of an upturned tree, looking at a family of little
chitmunks busily picking over the pine-cones on the ground; but as soon as
one of the poor little fellows, with great labour, had dug out a kernel,
and was preparing to eat it, down leaped Nimble-foot, and carried off the
prize; and if one of the little chitmunks ventured to say a word, he very
uncivilly gave him a scratch, or bit his ears, calling him a mean, shabby
fellow.
Now, the chitmunks were really very pretty. They were, to be sure, not
more than half the size of the grey squirrels, and their fur was short,
without the soft thick glossy look upon it of the grey squirrels'. They
were of a lively tawny yellow-brown colour, with long black and white
stripes down their backs; their tails were not so long nor so thickly
furred; and instead of living in the trees, they made their nests in logs
and wind-falls, and had their granaries and winter houses too under
ground, where they made warm nests of dried moss and grass and
thistledown; to these they had several entrances, so that they had always
a chance of refuge if danger were nigh. Like the dormice, flying
squirrels, and ground hogs, they slept soundly during the cold weather,
only awakening when the warm spring sun had melted the snow. [Footnote: It
is not quite certain that the chitmunk is a true squirrel, and he is
sometimes called a striped rat. This pretty animal seems, indeed, to form
a link between the rat and squirrel.]
The vain little grey squirrels thought themselves much better than these
little chitmunks, whom they treated with very little politeness, laughing
at them for living in holes in the ground, instead of upon lofty trees, as
they did; they even called them low-bred fellows, and wondered why they
did not imitate their high breeding and behaviour.
The chitmunks took very little notice of their rudeness, but merely said
that, if being high-bred made people rude, they would rather remain humble
as they were.
"As we are the head of all the squirrel families," said Silver-nose, "we
shall do you the honour of breakfasting with you to-day."
"We breakfasted hours ago, while you lazy fellows were fast asleep,"
replied an old chitmunk, poking his little nose out of a hole in the
ground.
"Then we shall dine with you: so make haste and get something good for
us," said Nimble-foot. "I have no doubt you have plenty of butter and
hickory-nuts laid up in your holes."
The old chitmunk told him he might come and get them, if he could.
At this the grey squirrels skipped down from the branches, and began to
run hither and thither, and to scratch among the moss and leaves, to find
the entrance to the chitmunks' grain stores. They peeped under the old
twisted roots of the pines and cedars, into every chink and cranny, but no
sign of a granary was to be seen.
Then the chitmunks said, "My dear friends, this is a bad season to visit
us; we are very poor just now, finding it difficult to get a few dry
pine-kernels and berries, but if you will come and see us after harvest, we
shall have a store of nuts and acorns."
"Pretty fellows you are!" replied Nimble, "to put us off with promises,
when we are so hungry; we might starve between this and harvest."
"If you leave this island, and go down the lake, you will come to a mill,
where the red squirrels live, and where you will have fine times," said
one of the chitmunks.
"Which is the nearest way to the mill?" asked Velvet-paw.
"Swim to the shore, and keep the Indian, path, and you will soon see it."
But while the grey squirrels were looking out for the path, the cunning
chitmunks whisked away into their holes, and left the inquirers in the
lurch, who could not tell what had become of them; for though they did
find a round hole that they thought might be one of their burrows, it was
so narrow that they could only poke in their noses, but could get no
further; the grey squirrels being much fatter and bigger than the slim
little chitmunks.
"After all," said Silvy, who was the best of the three, "perhaps, if we
had been civil, the chitmunks would have treated us better."
"Well," said Nimble, "if they had been good fellows, they would have
invited us, as our mother did cousin Blackie, and have set before us the
best they had. I could find it in my heart to dig them out of their holes,
and give them a good bite." This was all brag on Nimble's part, who was
not near so brave as he wished Silvy and Velvet-paw to suppose he was.
After spending some time in hunting for acorns, they made up their minds
to leave the island; and as it was not very far to the mainland, they
decided on swimming thither.
"Indeed," said Silver-nose, "I am tired of this dull place; we are not
better off here than we were in the little island in Stony Lake, where our
good old mother took care we should have plenty to eat, and we had a nice
warm nest to shelter us."
"Ah! well, it is of no use grumbling now; if we were to go back, we
should only get a scolding, and perhaps be chased off the island," said
Nimble. "Now let us have a race, and see which of us will get to shore
first;" and he leaped over Velvet-paw's head, and was soon swimming
merrily for the shore. He was soon followed by his companions, and in half
an hour they were all safely landed. Instead of going into the thick
forest, they agreed to take the path by the margin of the lake, for there
they had a better chance of getting nuts and fruit; but though it was the
merry month of June, and there were plenty of pretty flowers in bloom, the
berries were hardly ripe, and our little vagrants fared but badly. Besides
being hungry, they were sadly afraid of the eagles and fish-hawks that
kept hovering over the water; and when they went further into the forest
to avoid them, they saw a great white wood-owl, noiselessly flying out
from among the close cedar swamps, that seemed just ready to pounce down
upon them. The grey squirrels did not like the look of the owl's great
round shining eyes, as they peered at them, under the tufts of silky white
feathers, which almost hid his hooked bill; and their hearts sunk within
them, when they heard his hollow cry, "_Ho, ho, ho, ho!" "Waugh,
ho!"_ dismally sounding in their ears.
It was well that Velvet-paw was as swift afoot as she was soft, for one
of these great owls had very nearly caught her, while she was eating a
filbert that she had found in a cleft branch, where a nuthatch had fixed
it, while she pecked a hole in the shell. Some bird of prey had scared
away the poor nuthatch, and Velvet-paw no doubt thought she was in luck
when she found the prize; but it would have been a dear nut to her, if
Nimble, who was a sharp-sighted fellow, had not seen the owl, and cried
_"Chit, chit, chit, chit!"_ to warn her of her danger. _"Chit,
chit, chit, chit!"_ cried Velvet-paw, and away she flew to the very top
of a tall pine-tree, springing from one tree-top to another, till she was
soon out of the old owl's reach.
"What shall we do for supper to-night?" said Silver-nose, looking very
pitifully at Nimble-foot; whom they looked upon as the head of the family.
"We shall not want for a good supper and breakfast too, or I am very much
mistaken. Do you see that red squirrel yonder, climbing the hemlock-tree?
Well, my dears, he has a fine store of good things in that beech-tree. I
watched him run down with a nut in his teeth. Let us wait patiently, and
we shall see him come again for another; and as soon as he has done his
meal, we will go and take ours."
The red squirrel ran to and fro several times, each time carrying off a nut
to his nest in the hemlock; after a while, he came no more. As soon as he
was out of sight Nimble led the way, and found the hoard. The beech was
quite hollow in the heart, and they went down through a hole in the branch,
and found a store of hazel-nuts, with acorns, hickory-nuts, butter-nuts,
and beech-mast, all packed quite close and dry. They soon made a great hole
in the red squirrel's store of provisions, and were just choosing some nuts
to carry off with them, when they were disturbed by a scratching against
the bark of the tree. Nimble, who was always the first to take care of
himself, gave the alarm, and he and Velvet-paw, being nearest to the hole,
got off safely; but poor Silvy had the ill luck to sneeze, and before she
had time to hide herself the angry red squirrel sprang upon her, and gave
her such a terrible cuffing and scratching, that Silvy cried out for mercy.
As to Nimble-foot and Velvet-paw, they paid no heed to her cries for help;
they ran away, and left her to bear the blame of all their misdeeds, as
well as her own. Thieves are always cowards, and are sure to forsake one
another when danger is nigh.
The angry red squirrel pushed poor Silvy out of her granary, and she was
glad to crawl away, and hide herself in a hole at the root of a
neighbouring tree, where she lay in great pain and terror, licking her
wounds, and crying to think how cruel it was of her brother and sister to
leave her to the mercy of the red squirrel. It was surely very cowardly of
Foot-foot and Velvet-paw to forsake her in such a time of need; nor was
this the only danger that befel poor Silvy. One morning, when she put her
nose out of the hole, to look about her before venturing out, she saw
seated on a branch, close beside the tree she was under, a racoon, staring
full at her, with his sharp cunning black eyes. She was very much afraid
of him, for she thought he looked very hungry; but as she knew that
racoons are very fond of nuts and fruit, she said to herself, "Perhaps if
I show him where the red squirrel's granary in the beech-tree is, he will
not kill me." Then she said very softly to him, "Good Mister Coon, if you
want a very nice breakfast, and will promise to do me no hurt, I will tell
you where to find plenty of nuts."
The coon eyed her with a sly grin, and said, "If I can get anything more
to my taste than a pretty grey squirrel, I will take it, my dear, and not
lay a paw upon your soft back."
"Ah! but you must promise not to touch me, if I come out and show you
where to find the nuts," said Silvy.
"Upon the word and honour of a coon!" replied the racoon, laying one
black paw upon his breast; "but if you do not come out of your hole, I
shall soon come and dig you out, so you had best be quick; and if you
trust me, you shall come to no hurt."
Then Silvy thought it wisest to seem to trust the racoon's word, and she
came out of her hole, and went a few paces to point out the tree, where
her enemy the red squirrel's store of nuts was; but as soon as she saw
Mister Coon disappear in the hollow of the tree, she bade him good-bye,
and whisked up a tall tree, where she knew the racoon could not reach her;
and having now quite recovered her strength, she was able to leap from
branch to branch, and even from one tree to another, whenever they grew,
close and the boughs touched, as they often do in the grand old woods in
Canada; and so she was soon far, far away from the artful coon, who waited
a long time, hoping to carry off poor Silvy for his dinner.
Silvy contrived to pick up a living by digging for roots, and eating such
fruits as she could find; but one day she came to a grassy cleared spot,
where she saw a strange-looking tent, made with poles stuck into the
ground and meeting at the top, from which came a bluish cloud that spread
among the trees; and as Silvy was very curious, she came nearer, and at
last, hearing no sound, ran up one of the poles, and peeped in, to see
what was within side, thinking it might be one of the fine stores of grain
that people built for the squirrels, as her cousin Blackie had made her
believe. The poles were covered with sheets of birch-bark, and skins of
deer and wolves, and there was a fire of sticks burning in the middle,
round which some large creatures were sitting on a bear's skin, eating
something that smelt very nice. They had long black hair, and black eyes,
and very white teeth. Silvy felt alarmed at first; but thinking they must
be the people who were kind to squirrels, she ventured to slip through a
slit in the bark, and ran down into the wigwam, hoping to get something to
eat; but in a minute the Indians jumped up, and before she had time to
make her escape she was seized by a young squaw, and popped into a birch
box, and the lid shut down upon her: so poor Silvy was caught in a trap;
and all for believing the artful black squirrel's tales.
Silver-nose remembered her mother's warning now, when it was too late; she
tried to get out of her prison, but in vain; the sides of the box were too
strong, and there was not so much as a single crack for a peep-hole. After
she had been shut up some time, the lid was raised a little, and a dark
hand put in some bright, shining hard grains for her to eat. This was
Indian corn, and it was excellent food; but Silvy was a long, long time
before she would eat any of this sweet corn, she was so vexed at being
caught and shut up in prison; besides, she was very much afraid that the
Indians were going to eat her. After some days, she began to get used to
her captive state; the little squaw used to feed her, and one day took her
out of the box, and put her into a nice light cage, where there was soft
green moss to lie on, a little bark dish with clear water, and abundance of
food. The cage was hung up on the bough of a tree, near the wigwam, to
swing to and fro as the wind waved the tree. Here Silvy could see the birds
flying to and fro, and listen to their cheerful songs. The Indian women and
children had always a kind look, or a word to say to her; and her little
mistress was so kind to her, that Silvy could not help loving her. She was
very grateful for her care; for when she was sick and sulky, the little
squaw gave her bits of maple-sugar and parched rice out of her hand. At
last Silvy grew tame, and would suffer herself to be taken out of her
house, to sit on her mistress's shoulder, or in her lap; and though she
sometimes ran away and hid herself, out of fun, she would not have gone far
from the tent of the good Indians, on any account. Sometimes she saw the
red squirrels running about in the forest, but they never came very near
her; but she used to watch ail day long for her brother Nimble-foot, or
sister Velvet; but they were now far away from her, and no doubt thought
that she had been killed by the red squirrel, or eaten up by a fox or
racoon.
* * * * *
"Nurse, I am so glad pretty Silvy was not killed, and that the good
Indians took care of her."
"It is time now, my dear, for you to put down your book," said Mrs.
Frazer, "and to-morrow we will read some more."
"Yes, if you please, Mrs. Frazer," said Lady Mary.