rather enjoyed following the caravan, trotting by his mother's side,
and, except that he had been getting hungry, would have kept on
trotting for some time longer, but they had all stopped quite
suddenly, and Cara's mother, instead of giving her baby his evening
meal, had sunk down instantly on the sand, and with a series of grunts
and groans settled herself comfortably for a good rest.
The Arabs had been very busy with their camels, and it was not until
they had pitched their tents and settled to their supper that Cara had
noticed with great astonishment that there was another baby camel a
little way off. He began to wonder how it was they had not met before,
and in his funny, camel-baby talk tried to speak to the newcomer; but
Camer did not seem inclined for conversation. Her mother was lying
down, and Camer was nestling as closely as possible to her with her
odd-shaped little head almost hidden in the shaggy masses of woolly
hair which grew on her mother's forelegs.
This annoyed Cara, and he pranced awkwardly about, making queer,
discontented noises, until his mother, noting his restlessness, rose
up, felt and caressed him with her long, cleft, upper lip, and allowed
him to have the meal he longed for.
After the meal he found that Camer had risen up and was moving with
feeble steps towards him. Cara at once went forward, and, after
examining her with a superior air, gave a curious little grunt, which
meant that he wished to be friends. Camer said she should like it,
too, but here her mother, who was feeling irritable and nervous,
thinking Cara was going to hurt her beloved one, came forward and gave
him a good bite, to which Cara responded in true camel fashion by
groaning and grumbling and making as much fuss as he possibly could.
But Camer comforted him in baby fashion by caressing him, and then
went to her mother, who had lain down again. And this is how the
friendship between Cara and Camer began.
The next day the Arabs once more packed up their tents, loaded their
camels and continued their journey; very slowly and carefully, though,
for the Arabs are invariably kind, thoughtful and fond of their
camels; not like the Indian camel-owners, who, because they know they
will receive payment for every camel that dies, sometimes purposely
overload and ill-treat them.
Away they went over the desert, the camels swinging slowly, clumsily,
and yet easily along, although many of them carried from five to eight
hundred pounds on their backs, and had already been traveling for
three days without water. But their backs were made for burdens, and
their feet specially adapted to walking on the loose sand; for each of
the broad toes had a soft, wide cushion, and this cushion enabled them
to have a grasp on the sand, and at the same time kept them from
sinking into it.
In his clumsy way, Cara trotted beside his mother, continually bumping
against her as she walked slowly and heavily along, and having almost
miraculous escapes from being kicked by the other camels. But he was
getting stronger each day, and looked in amazement, not unmixed with
contempt, at the new calf who had appeared the night before, and who
was straggling feebly along, doing its best to keep up with the
others. But the journey that day was a short one, for, as the sun grew
hotter and hotter, Camer, the new calf, grew more and more feeble, and
once more the Arabs dismounted and rested in the desert.
But as the days went on Camer gained strength, and in a week's time
was as lively as Cara himself. They were great friends by this time,
and played together in a most awkward and ungainly manner, but one
which their mothers greatly admired. Their friendship and gambols
continued for many happy months, and then the Arabs prepared for a
long journey across the desert in another direction.
It took some time to prepare the camels. In the first place, their
masters fed them until the humps on the camels' backs grew large,
plump and fat. Then each camel was made to store as much water as its
stomachs would hold, for a camel, like all ruminants, has four
stomachs. Most of them could store as much as five or six quarts of
water, which would last several days.
After this the camels were loaded, and this was what Cara and Camer
enjoyed most of all. It was such fun to watch some camel, who was
particularly ill-natured, kneel down with a series of groans and
grumbles in deep, bubbling tones, open his mouth savagely whenever his
master came near him, and do his best with his big teeth and flexible,
cleft lips to catch hold of some part of his master's body. But
grumbling was of no use. The loads were strapped on in spite of it,
and when all the camels were carefully loaded the caravan started on
its long, wearisome journey across the desert.
Cara and Camer rather enjoyed it at first. They had no loads to carry;
had their usual good, warm food, and, what was better than all
besides, youth and strength. But, on the second day, the heat grew
appalling; not for the camels, for they love the broad glare of the
sun, but for the Arabs, who, in spite of their hardihood, grew faint
and weak as the sun, like a ball of fire, poured its scorching rays on
the white, glistening sand.
Then came a curious silence: a silence in the midst of silence; so
deep and intense that it could almost be felt, while the air grew red
like blood, and in a moment, with one accord, masters, servants and
animals threw themselves on the sand. The Arabs lay with their faces
downwards and their cloaks thrown over their heads; the camels, not
even stopping to grumble, stretched their necks straight out along the
sand, closed their curious, oblique nostrils and lay absolutely
motionless.
Cara's mother had often told him about this, and taught him how to
close his nostrils when caught in a _simoom_. At first Cara wondered
what had happened, and even when he saw his mother lay down and
stretch her neck along the sand did not realize what it meant; but in
another instant his mother had warned him, and as he lay down and
closed his little nostrils he noticed a huge, curious cloud sweeping
across the desert.
And that was all he did notice, for the next instant he felt scorched
and suffocated, while a heavy weight was on his limbs and body and
head. How long he lay there quivering all over with fright and gasping
for breath he never knew, but he was aroused by the groans and
grumbles of the camels and the cries of the Arabs. He struggled up at
last, and for a moment thought he too had been loaded for a journey,
for the _simoom_ had covered him with a small mountain of sand.
After a few snorts and groans, Cara shook himself and looked round.
Most of the camels were on their feet by this time, and their masters
were preparing to go forward again. At last they started, but before
they had gone many yards the caravan stopped to wait for a camel who
had lingered behind and was making cries of distress.
It was Camer's mother. On the sand, lying in a limp, unnatural
position, was Camer. No longer the bright, little baby-camel that Cara
had known, but a quiet, inanimate thing, which neither answered nor
moved in response to its mother's pitiful entreaties.
One of the Arabs, seeing that Camer was dead, tried to lead the mother
away with gentle pats and caresses, but the mother-camel would not
leave the little one. It was true that she had been thinking for the
last few weeks of relaxing some of her motherly duties, and insisting
on her baby getting its own food with the other camels, for Camer was
then ten months old, and no mother-camel cares to keep her babies
trotting after her for a much longer time than that.
But the sight of the little, dead body aroused all her motherly
feelings, and she yearned after her baby as though it had just been
born. In vain she fondled and caressed it; in vain she felt its head,
its limbs, and the small body which was fast growing cold, but no
response came to her motherly cries and no notice was taken of her
tempting offers of food. The little camel lay limp and still, and when
the Arab, finding that coaxing and caressing were of no use, tried
harsh words, Camer's mother turned savagely on him and bit him through
the arm.
The Arab knew camels too well to attempt further persuasion, and, with
angry words, for his arm burned and smarted, walked off and left
mother and baby in the desert. There was every probability that the
mother-camel would starve to death, for, although able to eat the
hard, sharp thorns which are found in the desert, and even pieces of
dry wood or other hard substances which are found occasionally, the
camel cannot live long on this sort of food. But there was nothing to
do but leave the camel behind, and this the Arab did with much regret,
not only for the loss, but because he loved the animal more than any
other that he owned.
Cara grieved and fretted over the loss of his little companion, but
his mother told him, in camel language, that had Camer's mother taught
her to close her nostrils in a proper manner during a _simoom_, she
would not have died. As it was, the hot, acrid sand had suffocated the
poor little thing.
Cara listened to all this, but made the most of the opportunity for
grumbling, and fretted, fumed and fidgeted until his mother gave him a
sharp bite as a reproof. This was the first time Cara had ever been
punished, but his mother was beginning to tire of him now, and,
instead of liking him always near her, seemed much more satisfied when
he wandered off with the other camels.
Then came an eventful day in Cara's life. This was when they reached
the end of their long journey, and very thankful Cara was to get to
it; for all the camels, in spite of their endurance, were weak and
haggard for want of food and water. Five long, weary days had the poor
animals carried their loads, going sometimes twenty-five to thirty
miles a day, and all that time not one drop of water had they been
able to get. Moreover, they scarcely looked like camels, for their
nice, plump humps had almost entirely disappeared, and this was
something that the Arabs noted with anxiety.
But, oh, how they grumbled and groaned! And how savagely their mouths
opened at the least provocation! But their poor mouths and tongues
were dry and cracked with the heat, and they extended and retracted
their flexible lips in the vain effort to get a little moisture.
But the journey was over at last. Arrived at their destination, the
camels sank wearily down, and once relieved of their burdens lay at
full length, while the Arabs were bringing them food and drink.
Cara looked round in surprise; there were strange men and women about,
and strange animals that he had not seen before. There was a great
deal of noise, too, which he did not approve of, and he, himself,
appeared to attract a good deal of attention. He was made to turn
round and show himself so many times that at last he lost his temper
completely, and snapped and snarled in the most savage manner. But
finally a rope was thrown over his head, and he was led away, much
against his will, by a strange man. Cara would not have gone at all,
only that the cord around his neck hurt so much when the man pulled
it, that he found that it was much better to follow him.
From that day Cara never saw his mother again. But as he had plenty of
food in the shape of green vegetables and roots, and had a nice,
comfortable place in which to lie down, Cara--I grieve to say--soon
forgot all about his mother, and made himself perfectly at home in his
new surroundings. He was quite happy--although he never forgot to
grumble--as there were many young camels with him, and fine times they
had together. But he often thought of Camer and her nice little ways.
So things went on until Cara was four years old, and then his troubles
began, for he was no longer to be an idle animal, spending all his
time in gamboling about, but was taught to wear first, a halter, then
a bridle, and finally a thing was put on his back, which nearly
frightened him to death. Not that it was so very heavy, but because he
had never had anything on his back before, and he did not like the
feeling of it. He made as much trouble as he possibly could, and
grumbled to his heart's content, but it was of no use. The horrible
thing turned out to be a saddle, which was strapped on in spite of
kicks and groans and snappings of his strong, white teeth, and
finally, finding that it was of no use, Cara gave in and carried his
burden patiently, as all other camels do.
But all this training took some time, and it was not for another year
or two that Cara was really of much use. But he was a particularly
strong, well-grown young animal, and, in spite of his grumbling, was a
valuable animal.
He reached his full growth when he was sixteen years old, and was then
a fine specimen of an Arabian camel. He had good, broad feet, with
well-developed cushions; sinewy limbs; a strong body, and a very fine
hump, of which he was extremely proud.
He changed masters again at this time, and, to his astonishment, found
that he was the chief camel, and was to carry the master of the tribe,
preceding the others, attended by horses and servants. Cara now had a
fine time of it. He had very little to do except to carry his master
and a very handsome saddle. His journeys were short, and altogether he
had about as easy a time of it as it is possible for a camel to have.
His master was fond and proud of him, for he was wonderfully handsome
for a camel and of abnormal size.
At one time he rendered his master a great service, for there had been
a long drought, and no water could be found anywhere. Cara, however,
had the acute sense of smell which all camels have, and one day when
very thirsty broke out of his stable, and, smelling water about a mile
off, set forth to get some. He was followed by some of the servants,
who guessed what had happened, and, to their great joy, Cara led them
to a spring of fresh water.
No doubt he would have lived to a good old age--say forty or fifty
years--but that one day, breaking out of his stable again--a thing
Cara was rather fond of doing--he wandered about, and, coming across a
nice-looking, green plant, he promptly proceeded to eat it. But, alas!
the nice-looking plant was a deadly poison called by the Arabs "camel
poison," and, soon after eating it, Cara became very ill, and was
scarcely able to get back with slow and weary steps to his comfortable
stable, where, after a few short groans, he lay down and died.
And this was the end of Cara.
It was very sad, and his master shed bitter tears over his handsome
camel. But, you see, it was Cara's own stupidity, for, like the rest
of his tribe, he would always eat anything that was green, no matter
where it grew or what it looked like.
SICCATEE, THE SQUIRREL
Poor Siccatee was in great trouble.
She had been very busy for some time past laying up food for the
winter, and it had taken many weeks' hard work. She had selected the
very best nuts, acorns, corn, berries and seeds, and all through the
beautiful autumn days had scarcely rested for a moment, so eager had
she been to lay in a good stock.
Not a single unsound, worm-eaten or empty nut had she allowed to go
into her stores. She had taken each one in her little fore paws,
looked it carefully over, turning and twisting it about and examining
it from every point of view with her keen little eyes; and then, when
she had made quite sure that it was a good one and perfectly sound,
she had trotted off with it in her quick way, which was something
between a hop and a gallop, and hidden it in a nice place at the root
of some old tree, or in some cleverly hidden crevice.
Her husband had helped her as much as he could, and had contributed
many dainties.
Their beautiful home was in a wood by the side of the sea, and the
people in the big house at the bottom of the wood sometimes threw out
dainties in the shape of fruit, scraps of meat and bread, and many
kinds of berries.
But Siccatee herself was too frightened to go down on the beach, for
she was a very nervous little thing. Sentre, her husband, was quite
daring, and not easily frightened. They had worked very hard together,
and their children, who were now getting quite strong and big, had
done their best to help them. Only that morning Siccatee woke up
feeling quite bright and cheerful, for she had accumulated nearly
enough winter food for herself and her little ones; but then, that
very afternoon, just as she was taking two big beechnuts to one of her
secret hiding-places, she saw two Horrible Humans standing close to
it.
Siccatee suddenly stopped, hugging the two nuts tightly to her breast
with her funny little paws, and whisking her tail nervously up and
down, making waves in the pretty, gray fur, while her nervous little
mouth worked convulsively. For, oh, what should she do if they found
her treasures?
Quick as a flash she bounded behind a tree, for, with her wonderfully
quick eyesight and senses always on the alert, she scented danger in a
moment.
Once behind a tree, nothing could be seen of Siccatee but her bright
eyes and just the tip of her bushy tail. And even these were not
noticed by the Humans.
After all, the Horrible Humans were only a little boy and a little
girl. But, oh, what mischief they did in the next few moments! They
seemed to be picking ferns and flowers, and for a few moments Siccatee
hoped that they would pass her hoarding-place unnoticed. But, alas!
just as they were turning away, the little boy caught sight of the
hollow in the tree, and, having a boy's natural curiosity, he
straightway went to investigate.
Siccatee's little heart beat and throbbed and thumped until she felt
nearly suffocated. Her bright little eyes almost started out of her
head with fear, and her tail waved, and waved, and waved--a true index
of the agitation of its owner.
She remembered that she had hidden her treasures in the tree as far
back as she could go, and had carefully covered them with some powdery
earth. Perhaps they would think there was only earth in the hollow and
not disturb it.
But in another moment the boy gave a scream of delight. For a moment
Siccatee could not see what he was doing, as his body was bent over
the hole. Then he suddenly stood up and called to his sister, and
there, dragged out on the ground and strewn all about, was one of
Siccatee's beautiful winter hoards!
She did not know herself, until she saw it thrown out, what a quantity
of food she and her family had collected.
The Humans did not seem to want the things after all, for the boy
kicked them about, which made Siccatee very angry. And the little
girl, after picking them up, threw them down again.
It was so dreadful to see her precious treasures strewn about in this
fashion, and kicked and bruised, that Siccatee, in spite of her self-
control, gave a little, sobbing cry.
The children heard it, and suddenly caught sight of her, and then, oh,
what a chase began! The boy began to throw stones and pieces of wood,
and actually dared to throw some of her own nuts at Siccatee.
By this time she was at the top of the tree, and now her grief changed
to anger--real anger--and she sat on one of the boughs and scolded as
hard as she could. Her funny little "prit, prit, p-r-i-t," amused the
children, and the more she scolded the more they laughed.
At last Siccatee grew disgusted and left that tree to go to another,
and then another, and still another; springing such distances and at
such a height that the children thought she would be dashed to pieces
every moment. But not a bit of it. Siccatee, like all squirrels, was
very sure-footed, and rarely made a false step. If, by any chance, she
should loose her foothold, she would spread out her legs and funny,
bushy tail, drop lightly to the ground and bound away as though
nothing had happened. But she took care not to lose her foothold now,
with those Horrible Humans so near. All she thought about was to get
away from them as quickly as possible, and to lead them away from her
other hiding-places.
Luckily they had found but one. She had several others near the big
tree--for this was her home tree, and there she and her husband had
lived for two or three years, and reared several families.
[Illustration: "SAT ON ONE OF THE BOUGHS AND SCOLDED AS HARD AS SHE
COULD."]
But while all this was going on, Siccatee called to her husband, and
in a very few minutes he joined her. He was much bigger than Siccatee
and not so nervous, and on hearing what had happened flew into a great
rage, and dared and defied his enemies in the same way that his wife
had done--that is, by sitting on a bough and scolding them.
The children pelted the two squirrels with everything they could find,
but they dodged so quickly and so cleverly that not a single thing
touched them.
But after a time the children grew tired of throwing stones and
sticks, and as it made their necks ache to look up so high, they gave
up the chase and went home, and that was the last that Sentre and
Siccatee saw of them for a long time.
But this unpleasant incident had upset them both very much, and when
their children joined them a few minutes later, they gave them many
warnings and cautions about always keeping a sharp lookout for danger.
At last all ventured down, and, while keeping a sharp lookout with
their bright little eyes, gazed on the ruin the children had wrought.
Fortunately, it was not the most valuable of their hoards, for it
contained no eggs or insects.
After much consultation and discussion, the squirrels decided not to
use this hiding-place again--at any rate, not that winter--for it
would never do to run the risk of having it disturbed a second time.
So they set to work, found a nice crevice in a big rock, and worked
hard all day long collecting another store.
Siccatee would not allow her family to eat too many nuts just then.
She knew that the time was coming when young birds, mice and insects
would be very scarce. So she impressed it upon them to make the very
most of their time, and eat as much of that kind of food as they could
get. They might have a nut or two, occasionally, she said, and
meanwhile she would teach them the proper way in which to eat a nut or
an egg.
Siccatee had found an egg in some hay in a little wooden hut, next to
the house at the foot of the wood, and this she had carried very
carefully to one of her stores. She considered that this would be a
good time to teach her children--there were two of them, fine young
specimens of American squirrels--their first important lesson.
So she stood up, holding the egg firmly with her fore paws, then, with
a crisp snap of her sharp little teeth, she broke the shell, and
cleverly sucked out the inside of it; not all, because she wanted her
little ones to taste and see how good an egg really was. And very good
they thought it--so good that in a few moments the egg was empty and
the two young squirrels were quarreling over the shell. But Siccatee
soon settled that by a scolding and several sharp pats.
But she had not finished her lesson yet, and next showed them how to
eat a nut. She held the nut very much in the same way that she had
held the egg. First of all, she bit off one end of the nut with her
teeth, then broke away the rest of the shell, carefully pulling off
the little brown husk on the kernel, then munched it in her funny
little way as though it was the greatest dainty she had ever tasted.
The young squirrels grew quite excited over this, and kept breaking
and peeling nuts until their mother told them they had had enough, and
sent them off to bed for the night.
Soon after this winter suddenly appeared, covering the earth and trees
and bushes with a thick, white mantle--so thick and white that all the
paths in the woods were hidden and all the trees and bushes looked
alike, but Sentre and Siccatee and their children knew their home,
and, having wonderful memories, never made a mistake about finding
either their home or their stores of food.
Some of their storehouses were quite a distance off, and in various
directions, but never by any chance did either Sentre or Siccatee
forget where they were. And, although the soft, white mantle had
covered all the little hiding-places, neither were in the least
uneasy, but, when one or the other wanted something for dinner, they
trotted off lightly and nimbly, making straight for one of the hoards;
scratching away the snow, and having taken out a few nuts, or berries,
or dried scraps of meat, or bread, scrambled off to eat it at his or
her leisure.