Download the full version of the ebook now at ebookgrade.

com

5 Minute Neurology Consult 2nd Edition

https://ebookgrade.com/product/5-minute-neurology-
consult-2nd-edition/

Explore and download more ebook at https://ebookgrade.com

 Recommended digital products (PDF, EPUB, MOBI) that
you can download immediately if you are interested.

5 Minute Orthopaedic Consult (2nd Edition) fnt

https://ebookgrade.com/product/5-minute-orthopaedic-consult-2nd-
edition-fnt/

ebookgrade.com

5 Minute Osteopathic Manipulative Medicine Consult (The 5

Minute Consult Series) The

https://ebookgrade.com/product/5-minute-osteopathic-manipulative-
medicine-consult-the-5-minute-consult-series-the/

ebookgrade.com

5 Minute Clinical Consult 2018 (The 5 Minute Consult

Series) 26th The

https://ebookgrade.com/product/5-minute-clinical-
consult-2018-the-5-minute-consult-series-26th-the/

ebookgrade.com

5 Minute Clinical Consult Standard 2015 (23rd Edition)

https://ebookgrade.com/product/5-minute-clinical-consult-
standard-2015-23rd-edition/

ebookgrade.com
Wills Eye Institute 5 Minute Ophthalmology Consult

https://ebookgrade.com/product/wills-eye-institute-5-minute-
ophthalmology-consult/

ebookgrade.com

5 Minute Sports Medicine Consult 2nd Edition The Bracker

Mark D.(Author)

https://ebookgrade.com/product/5-minute-sports-medicine-consult-2nd-
edition-the-bracker-mark-d-author/

ebookgrade.com

5 Minute Clinical Consult Standard 2016 24th Edition The

https://ebookgrade.com/product/5-minute-clinical-consult-
standard-2016-24th-edition-the/

ebookgrade.com

5 Minute Consult Series AHA Clinical Cardiac Consult (3rd

Edition) Nixon J.V.(Author)

https://ebookgrade.com/product/5-minute-consult-series-aha-clinical-
cardiac-consult-3rd-edition-nixon-j-v-author/

ebookgrade.com
Other documents randomly have
different content
The Project Gutenberg eBook of The life story of
a squirrel
 This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United
States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away
or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License
included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you
are not located in the United States, you will have to check the
laws of the country where you are located before using this
eBook.

Title: The life story of a squirrel

Author: T. C. Bridges

Illustrator: Allan Stewart

Release date: June 6, 2022 [eBook #68252]

Language: English

Original publication: United Kingdom: Adam & Charles Black,

1907

Credits: Tim Lindell and the Online Distributed Proofreading

Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was
produced from images made available by the
HathiTrust Digital Library.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE

STORY OF A SQUIRREL ***
Animal Autobiographies.

THE LIFE STORY OF A SQUIRREL

IN THE SAME SERIES
PRICE 6s. EACH
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR

THE BLACK BEAR

By H. PERRY ROBINSON
CONTAINING TWELVE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS
by J. Van Oort

THE CAT
By VIOLET HUNT
CONTAINING TWELVE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS
by Adolph Birkenruth

THE DOG
By G. E. MITTON
CONTAINING TWELVE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS
by John Williamson

THE FOX
By J. C. TREGARTHEN
CONTAINING TWELVE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS
by Countess Helena Gleichen

THE RAT
By G. M. A. HEWETT
CONTAINING TWELVE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS
by Stephen Baghot-de-la-Bere

PUBLISHED BY
A. & C. Black, Soho Square, London, W.

AGENTS
AMERICA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
64 & 66 Fifth Avenue, NEW YORK
CANADA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA, LTD.
27 Richmond Street West, TORONTO
INDIA MACMILLAN & COMPANY, LTD.
Macmillan Building, BOMBAY
309 Bow Bazaar Street, CALCUTTA
SCUD.
THE LIFE STORY OF
A SQUIRREL

BY
T. C. BRIDGES
 LONDON
ADAM·&·CHARLES·BLACK
1907
 CONTENTS
PAGE

CHAPTER I
MY FIRST ADVENTURE 1
CHAPTER II
THE GREAT DISASTER 21
CHAPTER III
THE PLEASURES OF IMPRISONMENT 40
CHAPTER IV
A DAY IN RAT LAND 63
CHAPTER V
BACK TO THE WOODLANDS 81
CHAPTER VI
A NARROW ESCAPE 95
CHAPTER VII
THE GREY TERROR 119
CHAPTER VIII
I FIND A WIFE 150
CHAPTER IX
WAR DECLARED AGAINST OUR RACE 174
CHAPTER X
POACHERS AND A BATTUE 192
CHAPTER XI
MY LAST ADVENTURE 210
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
BY ALLAN STEWART

SCUD Frontispiece
FACING
PAGE
FATHER LEAPED STRAIGHT TOWARDS THE BOY,
LANDING ACTUALLY ON HIS SHOULDER 32
HE IMITATED ME TO MY FACE 48
THE WHOLE OF THE SLIMY OLD WALL SEEMED
ALIVE WITH THEM 74
THE BOYS NEVER MOVED OR SPOKE 88
CLIMBING INTO ONE OF THE LARGEST TREES,
WE LAY PANTING AND TIRED OUT 112
TWO CRUEL GREEN ORBS SET IN A WIDE GREY
FACE 142
DOWN THE NEAR SIDE OF THE TRUNK WAS A
DEEP AND WIDE NEW SCAR 172
‘AND TO THINK IT WAS THIS HERE LITTLE RED
RASCAL’ 184
A SMALL BLUE FLAME ILLUMINATED THREE
EAGER FACES 194
ANOTHER MOMENT FOUND ME COMFORTABLY
PERCHED IN THE BRANCHES OF THE
HAZEL-BUSHES 208
THE DOG BOUNDED HIGH, BUT I WAS SAFELY
OUT OF HIS REACH 224
THE LIFE STORY OF A
SQUIRREL
 CHAPTER I
MY FIRST ADVENTURE

It was a perfect June morning, not a breath stirring, and the sun
fairly baking down till the whole air was full of the hot resinous scent
of pine-needles; but, warm as it was, I was shivering as I lay out on
the tip of a larch-bough and looked down. I was not giddy—a squirrel
never is. But that next bough below me, where my mother was
sitting, seemed very far away, and I could not help thinking what a
tremendous fall it would be to the ground, supposing I happened to
miss my landing-place. I am too old now to blush at the recollection
of it, and I don’t mind confessing that at the time I was in what I have
since heard called a blue funk.
The fact is, it was my first jumping and climbing lesson. Even
squirrels have to learn to climb, just as birds have to be taught by
their parents to fly.
My mother called me by my name, Scud, sitting up straight, and
looking at me encouragingly with her pretty black eyes. But I still
hesitated, crouching low on my branch and clinging tight to it with all
four sets of small sharp claws.
Mother grew a trifle impatient, and called to my brother Rusty to
take my place.
This was too much for me. I took my courage in both fore-paws,
set my teeth, and launched myself desperately into the air. I came
down flat on my little white stomach, but as at that time I weighed
rather less than four ounces, and the bough below was soft and
springy, I did not knock the wind out of myself, as one of you humans
would have done if you had fallen in the same way.
Mother gave a little snort. She did not approve of my methods, and
told me I should spread my legs wider and make more use of my tail.
Then she turned and gave a low call to Rusty to follow.
 Even at that early age—we were barely a month old—Rusty was a
heavier and rather slower-going squirrel than I. But he already
showed that bull-dog courage which was so strong a trait all through
his after-life. He crawled deliberately to the very end of the branch,
then simply let go and tumbled all in a heap right on the top of us. It
was extremely lucky for him that mother was so quick as she was.
She made a rapid bound forward, and caught her blundering son by
the loose skin at the back of his neck just in time to save him from
going headlong to the ground, quite fifty feet below.
She panted with fright as she lifted him to a place of safety with a
little shake.
Rusty looked a trifle sulky, and mother gave him an affectionate
pat to soothe him down.
Then she told us to follow her back along the branch, and she
would show us how to climb up the trunk home again. She sent me
first.
I had hardly reached the trunk end of the bough when I heard
mother utter a cry which I had never heard her give before. It was a
low sharp call. Oddly enough, I seemed to know exactly what it
meant. At once I lay flat upon the bough, here quite thick enough to
hide my small body, and crouched down, making myself as small as
possible. At the same instant mother seized Rusty by the scruff of
his neck, and with one splendid leap sprang right up on to the wide,
thick bough on the flat surface of which our home was built. In a few
seconds she came back for me, and before I knew what was the
matter I, too, was safe in the nest, alongside Rusty and my sister,
little Hazel.
Mother gave a low note of warning that none of us should move or
make any noise; and you may be sure we all obeyed, for something
in her manner frightened us greatly. Presently we heard heavy
footfalls down below rustling in the dry pine-needles. We sat closer
than ever, hardly daring to breathe. The footsteps stopped just below
our tree, and a loud rough voice, that made every nerve in my body
quiver, shouted out something. From the sound of it we could tell that
the speaker was peering right up between the boughs into our tree,
and we knew without the slightest doubt he had discovered our drey.
He must have spoken loud, even for a human, for his companion
gave a sharp ‘S-s-sh!’ as if he were afraid that some one else might
overhear and come down upon them. It could not have been of us he
was afraid, for we, poor trembling, palpitating little things, lay
huddled together, hardly daring to breathe.
The two tormentors turned away a few paces after a few lower-
toned remarks, and I began to think they had gone, when——
Crash, a great jagged lump of stone came hurtling up within a yard
of our home, frightening us all abominably.
Mother crouched with us closer than ever into our frail little house
of sticks, which was not made to stand the force of stones.
Almost immediately there fell another mass of whizzing stone,
even nearer than the first. It shore away a large tassel from the
bough just overhead, and this fell right on the top of us, frightening
Hazel so much that she jumped completely out of the nest, and, if
mother had not been after her as quick as lightning, she must have
fallen over the edge and probably tumbled right down to the ground
and been killed at once. Even a squirrel, particularly a young one,
cannot fall fifty feet in safety.
Mother saved her from this fate, but the mischief was done. The
quick eyes of our enemies below had caught a glimpse of red fur
among the pale green foliage, and they roared out in triumph, the
louder and noisier making such a row, I thought that anyone within
hearing must come rushing to see what was the matter. Then they
began disputing together, perhaps as to which of them should carry
us away.
We lay there nestling under mother’s thick fur, shaking with fright.
The two fellows down below argued like angry magpies for several
minutes, and at last it was decided that the quieter one should do the
climbing. I peeped over timidly and saw him throw off his coat, and
drew back to make myself as small as possible. Presently I heard a
bough creak, and then there followed a scraping and grinding as his
heavy hobnailed boots clawed the trunk in an effort to reach the first
branch. Once on that, he came up with dreadful rapidity. The boughs
of the larch were so close together that even such a great clumsy
animal, with his hind-paws all covered up with leather and iron, could
climb it as easily as a ladder. We heard him coughing and making
queer noises as the thick green dust, which always covers an old
larch, got into his throat, and the little sharp dry twigs switched his
face. But he kept on steadily, and soon he was only three or four
branches below us, and making the whole top of the tree quiver and
shake with his clumsy struggles. But as he got higher the branches
were thinner, and he stopped, evidently not daring to trust his weight
to them, and called out something to his companion. All the answer
he got was a jeering laugh, and this probably decided him, for, with a
growl, he came on again. The tree really was thin up near our bough,
at least for a great giant like this. The trunk itself bent, and the
shaking was so tremendous that I began to think that our whole
home would be jerked loose from its platform and go tumbling down
in ruins with us inside it.
Suddenly the fellow’s great rough head was pushed up through
the branches just below. His fat cheeks were crimson, and his hair all
plastered down on his forehead with perspiration. I stared at him in a
sort of horrible fascination. I could not have moved for the life of me,
and, as Rusty and Hazel told me afterwards, they felt just the same.
But mother kept her head. She was sitting up straight, with her bright
black eyes fairly snapping with rage and excitement.
The man made a desperate scramble, and up came a large dirty
paw and grasped the very branch on which we lived. This was too
much for mother. Her fur fairly bristled as she made a sudden dash
out of the nest by the entrance nearest to the trunk, and went
straight for that grasping fist. Next instant her sharp teeth met deep
in his first finger. He gave one yell and let go. All his weight came on
his other hand, there was a loud snap, and his large red face
disappeared with startling suddenness.
For a moment our tree felt just as it does when a strong gust of
wind catches and sways it. Our enemy, luckily for himself, had fallen
upon a wide-spreading bough not far below, had caught hold of it,
and so saved himself from a tumble right down to the bottom.
 I heard his companion cry out in a frightened voice. For a moment
there was no reply, and then a torrent of language so angry that I am
sure no respectable squirrel would have used anything so bad even
when talking to a weasel.
The man who had fallen was dancing about, holding his hand in
his mouth, and taking it out to show his comrade. I watched him
excitedly, hoping that now he had been hurt he would go away; but
no, picking himself up he began again clumsily climbing up towards
us. He came more slowly than before, trying each branch carefully
before he put his weight on it. Presently I saw his furious face rising
up again through the branches, and now he had something shining
and sharp, like a long tooth, clutched between his lips. I did not know
then what a knife was, but I thought it looked particularly unpleasant.
There was a nasty shine, too, in his pale blue eyes. I could feel my
heart throbbing as if it would burst. Again his great ugly paw came
clutching up at our bough. Fortunately he could not quite reach it.
Having broken off the branch just below us, he had nothing to hold
on to. However, he was so angry that there was no stopping him. He
got his arms and legs round the trunk and began to swarm up.
It looked as if nothing could save us now. Mother herself was too
frightened of that long gleaming tooth to try to bite our enemy again.
She jumped out of the nest by the entrance on the far side, and did
her best to persuade us to follow her out to the end of the branch
where we had been having our jumping lessons. But we were much
too frightened to move. We lay shivering in the moss at the bottom of
the nest, and made ourselves as small as we knew how.
The man’s head was level with the bough; he was stretching out
for a good hand-hold, when suddenly I heard the sharp clatter of a
blackbird from the hedge at the border of the spinny, and
immediately afterwards the crash of dry twigs under a heavy boot.
A sharp hiss came from below in warning. Bill’s hand stopped in
mid-air, just as I once saw a rabbit stop at the moment the shot
struck it. His cheeks, which had been almost as red as my tail, went
the colour of a sheep’s fleece. He listened for a moment, then
suddenly dropped to the bough below, and began clambering down
a good deal more quickly than he had come up.
We guessed it was the keeper, who had always left us alone,
though we had often seen him about.
The steady tramp of his boots suddenly changed to a quick thud,
thud; and when he saw the fellows at the tree, he gave a deep roar,
just like the bull that lives in the meadow by the river when he gets
angry. He came running along at a tremendous pace, making such a
tramping among the leaves and pine-needles that the blackbird,
though she had flown far away, started up again with a louder
scream than ever.
The man on the ground did not wait. Deserting his companion, he
made off at top speed. But old Crump, the keeper, knew better than
to waste his time in catching him. He had seen the boughs shaking
and he came straight for our tree, and shouted triumphantly as he
caught sight of the other one, who was by this time only a few
boughs from the ground.
In his hurry and fright the fellow missed his hold. Next moment
there was a tremendous thump, and a worse row even than when he
had taken his first tumble.
I peeped out of the nest again more confidently, and I thought they
were fighting. But what had happened was that the poacher had
fallen right on the top of Crump’s head, flooring him completely, and,
I should think, knocking all the breath out of him. Then, before the
keeper, who was as fat as a dormouse, could gain his feet, the other
had picked himself up and gone off full tilt after his friend.
The keeper growled and muttered to himself as he rose slowly. He
picked up his gun and walked round the tree, looking up, evidently
puzzled as to what the men had been after. Then he caught sight of
us, and shook his head, as if he would have much liked to capture us
himself He certainly could not have had any friendly feeling for us, as
we bit the tips off his young larches. But he must have had orders to
let us alone, for he did not attempt to molest us, and presently, to our
great relief, he too stumped off and left us undisturbed.
 We lay very still for a long time, slowly getting over our fright.
Suddenly mother gave a pleased little squeak and jumped out of the
nest. I crawled out too, as boldly as you please, and looked down.
Here came father running along over the thick brown carpet of pine-
needles which covered the ground. I know some of you humans
laugh at a squirrel on the ground. But it is not our fault that we do not
look so well there as in our proper place—a tree. Why, even the
swan, supposed to be the most graceful thing in the world, waddles
in the clumsiest fashion imaginable when it is on dry land! At any
rate, even over flat ground a squirrel can move at a good pace.
Father was lopping along with his fore-paws very wide apart, and
stopping now and then to sniff or burrow a little among the pine and
larch needles. In one place he evidently found something good—
possibly a nice fat grub—for he stopped, sat up on his hind-legs,
and, holding whatever it was in his fore-paws, began to nibble at it
daintily. How handsome he looked sitting there, with his beautiful
sharp ears cocked, his splendid brush hoisted straight up, and the
rich, ruddy fur of his back just touched by a stray gleam of sunshine,
contrasting beautifully with the snowy whiteness of his waistcoat! It
has always been my opinion that he was the handsomest squirrel I
ever saw, and I was never more pleased in my life than when mother
once told me that she thought I was more like him than any of her
other children.
Mother called again. Father looked up, caught sight of her, gave a
quick flick of his tail and an answering call. Next instant we heard the
rattle of his claws on the rough bark, and almost before I could look
round here he was with us.
He was full of good-humour, for he had been over to the beech
copse, and the mast, he told us, was the finest crop he had seen for
years. We must collect a good store as soon as it got ripe.
But he suddenly noticed that mother was quivering all over, and he
had not time to ask what had upset her before she burst into an
account of all the dreadful things that had happened that morning.
Then he looked very grave.
 ‘We must go,’ he said. ‘It means building a new house. And this
tree has suited us so admirably. I do not think that I have ever seen a
weasel near it; then, too, we are so capitally sheltered from bad
weather by all these thick evergreens. In any case I shall not leave
the plantation, but I suppose we must look out for another tree. We
cannot do anything to-day; it is too late. Now I will mount guard over
the youngsters while you go and get some dinner.’
And rather uneasily she went off.
The heat of the day was over, but the sun was still warm. A little
breeze was talking gently up in the murmurous tops of the trees,
causing the shadows to sway and dance in dappled lights on the
lower branches. You humans, who never go anywhere without
stamping, and running, and talking loudly, and lighting pipes with
crackly matches, have no idea what the real life of the woods is like,
especially on a fine June afternoon such as this one was. Though
our larch was one of a thick clump, yet from the great height of our
nest we could see right across into the belt of oaks, beeches, and
old thorn-trees which lay along the slope below, and could even
catch a glimpse of the tall hedge and bank, and of the sandy turf
beyond where the rabbit-warren lay.
One by one the rabbits lopped silently out of their burrows and
began to feed till the close turf was almost as brown as green. Stupid
fellows, rabbits, I always think, but I like to watch them, especially
when the young ones play, jumping over and over one another, or
when some old buck, with a sudden idea that a fox or weasel is on
the prowl, whacks the ground with one hind-leg, and then all scuttle
helter-skelter back into their holes.
A pompous old cock pheasant came strutting down a ride in the
young bracken, the sun shining full on his glossy plumage and black-
barred tail. Presently his wife followed him, and behind her came a
dozen chicks flitting noiselessly over the ground like so many small
brown shadows. A pair of wood-pigeons were raising their second
brood in a fir-tree, not far away from where we lived, and every now
and then, with a rapid clatter of wings, one of the old birds came
flapping through the aisles of the plantation with food for their two