THE PLEASURES OF IMPRISONMENT
I was aroused from a sort of stupor between sleep and exhaustion by being
picked out of my snug retreat and held up for inspection before a third
person, a sweet-faced lady, whom I afterwards came to know well and love
as the mother of my dear master, Jack Fortescue, and his brother Harry.
She looked at me pitifully when her son had quickly explained the events
of the morning. Her fingers were long and slim and cool, and, poor limp
little rag that I was, I never offered the slightest resistance to her
gentle grasp. She took me straight through a side door into a long,
low, shady building with wood-lined walls, and in a minute or two I was
placed in a nest of soft hay in a good-sized box covered in front with
close wire-netting. Too worn out to trouble my head about the amazing and
perplexing change in my circumstances, I simply curled up with my tail
over my nose and went sound asleep.
It was Jack who woke me. I must have been asleep for a long time, for
now the sun was pouring in through the western windows. The first thing
I realized was that I was desperately hungry, and that the little saucer
which the boy had pushed gently into the cage had a most appetizing
odour. But my sleep had given me fresh life and strength, and quiet as
his movements were, I remember that I was desperately frightened, and
cowered down, shivering, burrowing close in the hay.
Jack seemed to understand perfectly, for he closed the door again very
softly and moved away. Presently the silence restored my confidence a
little, and I ventured to peep out. The saucer was quite close to my
nose, and, hunger overpowering my fright, I crawled up and tasted the
mixture. It was bread and milk, soft and well cooked. I finished it very
rapidly, and then, feeling much refreshed, went to sleep for a second
time.
Once again before dark Jack came and fed me, and this time brought me a
couple of ready cracked nuts, as well as the bread and milk.
Well fed and cared for as I was, I shall never forget the misery of that
first night. I don’t suppose that at that very early age I actually
remembered much of what had happened during the past eventful day. What
I did feel was a sort of horror of loneliness. Instead of the whole five
of us snuggling warmly together in our well-lined drey, I was here in
this box, which was many times larger than our nest, absolutely alone.
Every time I went to sleep I would wake up again with a start, vaguely
feeling round for my mother and the rest, and shivering miserably in my
unaccustomed solitude.
At last morning came, and it was hardly broad daylight before Jack
arrived in his nightshirt and carried me off, cage and all, to his
bedroom, where he put me on the window-ledge in the sun and offered me
nuts. At first I was much alarmed; but he was so gentle that I gradually
got over my terror, and sat up and nibbled the nuts fairly happily.
I will pass over the next few days. My new master fed me assiduously,
and very soon I lost all fear of him, and the minute I saw him would
make for the door of my comfortable little prison, and wait eagerly
for the dainties which were sure to be forthcoming. Every morning he
changed my bed and gave me fresh hay, which makes far the best bedding
for any of our tribe. During the day my cage was brought down into the
bowling-alley, where several other pets were kept, and at night Jack
took me up to his room, so that I might not be frightened by servants
dusting in the morning.
At last there came a morning when Jack’s hand, instead of offering me
the usual nut, gently grasped me. Frightened, I turned at once and bit
him sharply. I don’t suppose my small teeth did much damage, for he only
laughed, and, lifting me right out of the cage, placed me on his bed. The
white counterpane was so very different from anything which I had ever
felt under my claws before, that at first I was too much surprised to
move, and remained perfectly still. Presently, however, Jack popped a nut
down in front of me. That, at any rate, I understood, so I sat up on my
hind-quarters, cracked it, and, first carefully removing the brown skin
from the kernel, made short work of the dainty.
Hoping for more, I gained confidence and proceeded to explore. First I
caught my claws in the little projecting tufts of the counterpane, and
heard Jack laughing gently as I shook myself impatiently free, giving a
little squeak of disgust. Presently I discovered a cavity that looked
dark and inviting. You know a squirrel’s besetting sin is curiosity. He
always wants to know the ins and outs of everything. Any object which he
has not seen before fascinates him, and I am afraid to say how many of
my friends have paid for their inquisitiveness by getting into serious
trouble. So I crawled down, and finding it delightfully warm and dark,
made my way under the clothes to the very foot of the bed, where, as I
was very comfortable, I went sound asleep.
On the next morning my master turned me loose again, this time on the
floor, and after a fresh access of timidity I again found nuts. There
were more than I wanted, so, obeying a natural instinct, I ate what I
could, and hid the rest in various convenient receptacles.
Soon I began to look forward to my daily outing, and took great delight
in exploring every corner of the room. I well recollect what a shock
I got the first time I reached the window-sill. Outside was a great
elm-tree, whose branches reached within a few yards of the window, and
the sight of the green leaves waving gently in the early morning breeze
roused in me strange longings. I made one jump, and striking full against
the glass, fell back half stunned and terrified almost out of my wits at
the strange transparent barrier. Jack picked me up at once, and placed me
safe in the darkness and warmth under the bedclothes, where I had time
to recover from my fright.
Soon he took to letting me out at bedtime, and I had a grand scamper
before the light was put out. The window-curtains were my favourite
resort. They were so easy to climb, and had such splendid folds and
crannies for hiding nuts in. I would race across the curtain-pole,
rattling the rings as I went, down the other curtain, round the room full
tilt, and finish up with a good hunt in all the corners for nuts which
I had concealed the day before and forgotten all about. I rarely went
back to my cage to sleep, though it was always open and ready for me. A
fold in the window-curtain was my usual place of repose, and another pet
perch was an old band-box on the top of the wardrobe. It was half full of
tissue paper, which possessed a strange fascination for my young mind. I
tore it all up fine with my sharp teeth, and made a most delicious nest
with the bits.
When the night was chilly I generally snuggled under Jack’s bedclothes,
and always, first thing in the morning, so soon as daylight came, I would
make for the bed, and working my way gently down between the sheets, curl
up close against Jack’s toes. Sometimes he was so sleepy that he would
not wake up and play when I wanted him to; then I would emerge on to the
pillow and gently nibble the tip of his nose.
This never failed. ‘Confound you, Nipper!’ (he always called me Nipper),
he would mutter drowsily, and then make a lazy grab, which I always
eluded with the greatest ease, and with two bounds would land on the end
of the bedstead, and, perched there, scold him until he sat up and threw
a sock at me.
He was never rough, and never lost his temper with me, although I am sure
that I was aggravating enough at times. It must have been trying when he
pulled on his boots in a hurry and found a couple of nuts wedged tight
in each toe. I do not think that a boy and a squirrel ever became better
chums. We were simply devoted to one another. The only dull times for me
were when Jack and Harry were busy with their tutor, during which hours I
was usually in my box in the bowling-alley.
There, as I think I mentioned before, the Fortescue boys kept several
other pets. There was a large white cockatoo with a lemon crest, named
Joey, which frightened and puzzled me horribly until I came to understand
its odd faculty of imitating every person and animal about the place. It
would ‘miaouw’ like a cat, a most disturbing sound, for every squirrel
hates cats next to hawks and weasels; would bark so realistically that
Mrs. Fortescue’s white Pomeranian was always stirred up to reply, and
the two would go on and on, the wily old bird always starting up afresh
whenever the dog stopped, until poor Pom nearly had a fit and grew
quite hoarse. I shall never forget the first time he imitated me to my
face. It gave me a most severe shock, for he did it so well that for a
moment I believed that one of my relations was actually in the room. One
thing I liked him for: he was devoted to Jack, and invariably bade him
a grave ‘good morning’ when he brought my cage down before breakfast.
He lived on a perch, to which he was chained by one leg, and up and
down this he would sidle by the hour, with one eye cocked for mischief.
Sometimes, when all was quiet, he would talk to himself in a language
quite unlike that which my master and his family used. The boys said it
was some African lingo which Joey had learnt ages ago in his native land.
Altogether a most uncanny bird!
Harry had a number of pet mice in wire cages. They were not the least
atom like any of the mice I had ever seen in the wood. These were of the
queerest colours—piebald—and some of them had marks on their backs just
the shape of a saddle. Uninteresting I called them, but Harry was very
fond of them, and used to take them out and let them run all over him.
In the darkest corner of the long, low room was the one creature that,
from the first moment I saw it, interested me more than all the others
put together. All day long it lay hidden in its hay bed and never moved,
but slept quietly as a dormouse in its winter nest. In fact, I never
set eyes on it at all until one night in August, when the evenings had
begun to draw in and I happened to be left a little later than usual in
the bowling-alley. No sooner had the room become dusk than I heard from
the tiny cage a little twittering, more like a young bird’s voice than
anything else, and presently caught sight of a dainty little head poked
out of the hay, with two of the largest, most liquid black eyes I ever
saw. I gazed in wonder, for the animal was so like myself that I felt
sure it was a squirrel, though I had never dreamed that any squirrel
existed so tiny as this.
Just then in came the two boys together.
[Illustration: HE IMITATED ME TO MY FACE]
‘Hulloa!’ cried Harry, ‘Lops is awake. Bring Nipper to have a look at
him, Jack.’
Jack took me out of my cage, and I jumped as usual on to his shoulder and
nibbled his ear by way of a kiss. He walked across to the other cage and
set me down in front of it.
‘Mr. Lops,’ he said with mock gravity, ‘allow me to introduce Mr. Nipper.
This is a small cousin of yours, Nipper, and he comes from Mexico. As you
see yourself, he’s a sad character—sleeps all day and only wakes up at
night.’
I was so lost in surprise that I sat quite still, gazing through the fine
wire mesh at my new acquaintance. I have always had a fairly good opinion
of my own looks, as every well-bred squirrel should have, but, upon my
word, he put me out of all conceit with myself. He was the tiniest,
daintiest, quaintest creature I ever set eyes on. No bright red about
him, but though his coat was darker and greyer than mine, it was as soft
as fine velvet, and beautifully groomed. His head was perfectly shaped,
his ears pricked like my own, and his eyes very large and amazingly
bright. But the oddest thing about him were the folds of loose skin which
extended in a thin membrane from all his four legs back to his body. When
he jumped from the upper, story of his cage to the lower, they spread
out almost like the wings of a bat; but when he was sitting still, they
folded up so that they did not in the least spoil his beautiful shape. I
must say that I felt quite envious, for I thoroughly understood that a
squirrel built like that could jump ever so much further than I or any of
my family could. We English squirrels can, at a pinch, clear as much as
three yards in a straight line. We always spread our legs wide when we
jump as well as keeping our tails stretched straight out, and that is why
we can leap from great heights and reach the ground unhurt, for we drop
parachute fashion. But as for these American cousins of ours, the flying
squirrels, they can jump from the top of one tree, and sliding through
the air like a soaring hawk, reach another tree fifty feet or more
away at a height from the ground only slightly less than that of their
starting-point.
Lops—which Jack said was short for Nyctalops, or ‘seer by night’—and I
had many a chat afterwards. He told me of his old home in sunny Mexico,
not a nest such as I was born in, but a cavity in the trunk of a vast
live oak or ilex, from whose boughs long weepers of grey Spanish moss
trailed towards the brown palmetto-stained water below; of the hot sun
and of the furious tropical storms which lashed the deep river into
white foam; of the paroquets, with their brilliant plumage of green and
red and blue, which screamed harshly among the upper branches at dawn;
of the rusty-hued water-vipers which coiled sluggishly on the steaming
mud in summer. He told, too, of the perils from great hawks three times
as large as any we know in England, from long, thin tree-snakes wrapped
unseen round the branches; and I shuddered when he talked of fierce
wild-cats as much at home among the tree-tops as on the ground. It must
have been a wonderful country and a wonderful life, so different from
our northern island as to be almost beyond my imagination to picture it.
All day the land slept breathless beneath the blazing sun, with nothing
moving except the birds, the fox-squirrels, and the lizards; and during
those hours Lops and his family slept in the dark recesses of their
wood-walled fortress; but when the sun set the forest woke to life. Deer
came down to the river to drink; peccaries rooted in droves among the
bases of the mighty trees; sometimes a great bear came prowling along,
uttering now and then a deep ‘woof’ when any unaccustomed sound disturbed
him. Up above opossums and racoons moved silently to and fro among the
tree-tops; great owls whirled on soft wings, hooting dismally; while all
night long—especially in the hot season—the endless chirr of crickets,
the pipe of tree-frogs and the deep booming of bull-frogs filled the air
with a never-ending concert. Other sounds there were, rarer, but far more
terrifying. Enormous bull-alligators, floating like logs with only their
gnarled heads and the ridges of their rugged backs above the water, would
bellow with a roar that shook the forest; or, again, from some hidden
recess of the deepest woods the blood-curdling shriek of the tawny puma
would ring hideously through the night.
Poor Lops! Though cared for as few pets are—fed with dainty pecan-nuts
and other delicacies from his far-off home across the ocean, and though
he loved his mistress Mabel, Jack’s sister, devotedly—yet he was never
happy as I was. The damp and cold of our climate oppressed him, and most
of his time he spent curled up tightly among the soft bedding of his
cage. Then, too, he was a creature of the night, and it was only after
dark that he would wake and want to play—and at that time, except for an
hour or two, there was no one to play with. I felt very sorry for him,
and so, too, were Mabel and the boys. I am sure that if they could they
would have set him free again among the great tropical forests that he
loved so well, and always mourned for, though only I knew how deeply.
As for me, life ran most pleasantly. I grew plump on the good food I
was supplied with. My coat became long and sleek, and my tail, which
had been a mere furry appendage like that of a little colt, grew into
a glorious brush of richest red-brown, long enough and thick enough to
cover me completely when I curled up to sleep. Jack was very proud of my
looks, and used to groom me all over with a little brush—a process which
I soon grew very fond of. We two came to understand one another most
marvellously. I could always tell him what I wanted, whether it was food,
or a game, or to be allowed to creep into his coat-pocket and go to sleep
there.
One day he opened my cage, slipped me into his pocket, and walked off,
and when he took me out again I was out of doors once more!
I cannot tell you how it affected me. You know, we wild creatures—born
wild, I mean—never quite forget our rightful heritage of freedom, and
here, for the first time for many weeks, I found myself out in the open.
Jack was seated on a wooden bench under a clump of evergreen shrubs in
the midst of a great expanse of smooth-shaven lawn. It was August now,
and the sun poured down hotter than ever it had been in those June days
in the wood. Big bumble-bees droned lazily by; a robin was perched on
the bare ground at the foot of an _arbor vitæ_, cocking a soft round eye
at us; all the subtle, fascinating odours of summer were in my nostrils.
I gave one spring from his knee on to the back of the bench, and sat
there, head high, snuffing the sweet air, and quivering all over with
excitement. Jack never moved, and for the moment he passed completely out
of my remembrance. My brain was crammed to bursting with half-forgotten
instincts and remembrances which crowded in upon me.
So I sat for perhaps half a minute; then a little breath of summer breeze
swayed a bough above me, and on the impulse I sprang. Oh, the delight of
feeling it yield and swing beneath me! I darted inwards to the trunk,
and with one clattering dash was up at its slender summit twenty feet
above the turf gazing round in wild delight. When the first ecstasy had
worn off, I set myself to explore, and, clambering down a little, jumped
into the next tree. So for many minutes I exercised my new-found powers,
taking longer and longer leaps, and enjoying myself to the top of my bent.
But the clump of shrubs was small, and soon I had exhausted its resources
in the way of jumps. I looked around, and a little way off was a giant
elm. Ah! that would give more scope; and with my head full of its
possibilities, I turned and came down head foremost. Then, and not till
then, did my eyes fall upon my master, who sat where I had left him,
still as ever. He looked at me, but I would not heed, and dashed off
across the lawn.
‘Hulloa, Jack! what price Nipper?’ came Harry’s voice from a distance.
‘You’ll never see him again.’
But the other only said, ‘You wait!’ and still sat stubbornly in his
place.
With a rattle of claws on rough bark I was up the elm like a flash, and,
half crazy with joy, went leaping and corkscrewing round and round,
sending a couple of tree-creepers off in a terrible fright. I think they
must have taken me for a cat. I played for a long time, and still Jack
sat on the bench. He seemed to be deep in a book, and after a time I got
quite cross at his apparent lack of interest in my proceedings. It was
getting late, and the trees threw long, dark shadows across the lawn.
The breeze had died down, and, except for the chirping of sparrows in
the ivy and the low whistle of some starlings in the distance, all was
very still. A sense of loneliness began to oppress me, and at last I came
creeping down, and, reaching the lower branch, once more looked across
towards my master.
‘Nipper!’ he called softly; and in a trice I was on the ground and
lopping across towards him.
Suddenly, and without the slightest warning, there was a sharp ‘yap-yap,’
and a dirty white-and-tan beast rushed out of the shrubbery behind me. On
the instant I was running for dear life.
I saw Jack bound to his feet and come tearing across towards me. But
instead of running straight to him, I made for the nearest tree—a small
ornamental evergreen. The dog—it was the gardener’s terrier—wheeled,
and was after me like a shot. He was travelling nearly twice as fast as
I, and his feet were drumming so close behind me that it seemed nothing
could save me. Each instant I expected to feel those snapping teeth close
upon me.
There was a sudden crash, and the sharp ‘yap-yap,’ changed to a terrified
howl. Jack had hurled his book with all his might and with such good
aim that the dog, hit full in the side, had been bowled completely over,
giving me time to gain the shrub and safety.
‘Poor old Nipper!’ said Jack softly, as he picked me shivering out of the
little tree and stowed me safely inside the breast of his coat. ‘We won’t
run any more risks of that sort, will we, old chap?’
Indeed, the fright was so severe that I did not get over it for some
time. It gave me a good lesson, and the next time my master let me out I
did not venture far from him.
Soon after this I had another adventure which came very near to closing
my career abruptly. One dull rainy morning I was loose as usual in Jack’s
bedroom. Just as he had almost finished dressing, his brother, whose room
was on the same floor, opened the door and called to my master to come
and help him to find one of his mice which had got loose and disappeared.
Jack ran out, carefully closing the door behind him, and leaving me to
play by myself. A few minutes afterwards one of the maids, thinking no
doubt that Jack had finished dressing and had gone down to his early
morning lesson with his tutor, came in to turn the bed down and tidy up.
She never saw me, and I paid no attention to her, for I was busy under
the dressing-table with some nuts.
It was some minutes after she had gone away that I became conscious of an
animal moving softly about the room, and a spasm of terror seized me, for
though I could not see it owing to the hangings of the dressing-table,
instinct—that sixth sense which informs us of danger—gave me warning of
desperate peril.
Crouching back as near to the wall as possible, I lay there absolutely
still, listening with beating heart to the almost noiseless footsteps
which came gradually nearer and nearer. I could tell by the soft snuffing
that the animal scented me, and terror almost paralysed me. Closer
and even closer came the creature, and presently the hangings of the
table rustled, and as they were pushed aside a whiskered head appeared,
and two eyes that glowed luminous green in the dim light glared upon
me. Stiffened in my corner I watched the cat crouch for a spring, her
gleaming eyes fixed greedily upon me, while her tail waving quickly from
side to side, made a soft tattoo on the carpet. Those cruel green eyes
absolutely fascinated me, and for the moment I could not have moved even
to save my life.
Suddenly came a loud crash. The door left open by the maid had blown to
in the strong draught from the open window. The noise startled the cat
almost as much as it did me, and for the moment she took her eyes off
me. The spell was broken and I ran for dear life. As I passed under the
hangings and out into the open I heard her heavier, larger body strike
the very spot where I been crouching, and with another spring she came
out from under the table and landed barely her own length behind me. One
wild bound to the right and I was inside the fender; another, and my
enemy’s outstretched paw actually grazed my tail as I bolted clean up the
chimney, and a snarl of disappointed rage gave me the glad tidings that I
was for the moment safe.
It was lucky, indeed, for me that the chimneys of the Hall were of the
wide, old-fashioned brick type unprovided with dampers. Had it not been
so, and had my refuge been the modern, narrow, perpendicular form of
grate, it is certain that I should never have been alive now. As it was,
the worn, old brickwork gave me footing of a kind, and I never stopped
until I had reached the chimney-pot, which barred further progress.
The soot nearly choked me, and made me cough and sneeze violently. My
foothold was most precarious and I was in deadly terror that I might slip
and go tumbling right back into the jaws of my enemy. Indeed, I have
rarely spent a worse quarter of an hour than I did then.
Suddenly I heard the door below open. Sounds came to me almost as clearly
as if I had been in the room.
‘Nipper! Nipper!’ I heard Jack call, but I was too frightened to come
down.
‘Why, where on earth has he got to?’ my master continued in a surprised
tone, and then I heard him moving about the room looking for me.
The cat, no doubt, had taken refuge under the dressing-table again when
she heard the door open, for she knew as well as possible that she had no
right in the bedrooms, her proper place being the kitchen. There was a
rustle as Jack raised the hangings, and then he saw her.
For the moment there is no doubt but that he thought she had killed and
eaten me, and grief and fury possessed him. I heard a smothered squawk of
terror, and even in my plight rejoiced that my enemy was feeling a little
of the fright she had given me. Then there was a crash. Jack had flung
the beast clean out of the window into the elm opposite. I heard him go
to the door again, and there was something in his voice as he shouted to
his brother to come that made me shiver all over, but not with fright.
Harry came rushing into the room, and I am bound to say his voice was
almost as queer as that of my master.
I was recovering slowly from my terror, and the sound of Jack’s voice was
giving me confidence. Also my present refuge was horribly uncomfortable,
and the black soot making me feel perfectly miserable, so I turned with
the intention of making my way downwards again. You know we squirrels
always descend head foremost, holding on with our hind-claws. But I had
hardly begun my descent when a bit of hardened soot or plaster gave
way beneath me. I made a desperate but quite useless effort to recover
myself, and next thing I was sliding helplessly down the steep slope at a
pace which increased with every foot I fell.
Thud! And I landed in the grate amid a perfect avalanche of soot. Jack,
who was sitting on the bed looking more miserable than I had ever seen
him before, sprang to his feet as if electrified, and cleared the
intervening space with a bound.
‘Nipper, Nipper, is it you?’ he shouted, and regardless of his smart,
clean flannel suit picked me up and positively hugged me in a transport
of delight. Then he examined me all over to make sure that I was not
hurt, and after that I was only too glad to be allowed to crawl into his
pocket and feel that there, at any rate, I was safe.
The worst of it came after breakfast, for I was too filthy to be able to
clean myself. Such a miserable, draggled little object I was, black as
any sweep! My master got a basin of warm water and washed me all over—a
process which I remember I strongly objected to, and resented by nipping
his fingers sharply. But he was firm, and presently I was back again in
my cage, which was placed before the kitchen fire, and Jack himself kept
watch over me until, once more dry and clean, I was fit to return to the
bowling-alley.