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THE ADVENTURES OF A SQUIRREL FAMILY

“I’ll bet I kin make a Woodpecker come out of that hole,” said Sapwood, one day as the three Red-men proceeded, bow in hand, through a far corner of Burns’s Bush.  He pointed to a hole in the top of a tall dead stub, then going near he struck the stub a couple of heavy blows with a pole.  To the surprise of all there flew out, not a Woodpecker, but a Flying Squirrel.  It scrambled to the top of the stub, looked this way and that, then spread its legs, wings and tail and sailed downward, to rise slightly at the end of its flight against a tree some twenty feet away.  Yan bounded to catch it.  His fingers clutched on its furry back, but he got such a cut from its sharp teeth that he was glad to let it go.  It scrambled up the far side of the trunk and soon was lost in the branches.

Guy was quite satisfied that he had carried out his promise of bringing a Woodpecker out of the hole, “For ain’t a Flying Squirrel a kind of Woodpecker?” he argued.  He was, in consequence, very “cocky” the rest of the day, proposing to produce a Squirrel whenever they came to a stub with a hole in it, and at length, after many failures, had the satisfaction of driving a belated Woodpecker out of its nest.

The plan was evidently a good one for discovering living creatures.  Yan promptly adopted it, and picking up a big stick as they drew near another stub with holes, he gave three or four heavy thumps.  A Red Squirrel scrambled out of a lower hole and hid in an upper one; another sharp blow made it pop out and jump to the top of the stub, but eventually back into the lower hole.

The boys became much excited.  They hammered the stub now without making the Squirrel reappear.

“Let’s cut it down,” said Little Beaver.

“Show you a better trick than that,” replied the Woodpecker.  He looked about and got a pole some twenty feet long.  This he placed against a rough place high up on the stub and gave it a violent push, watching carefully the head of the stub.  Yes!  It swayed just a little.  Sam repeated the push, careful to keep time with the stub and push always just as it began to swing away from him.  The other boys took hold of the pole and all pushed together, as Sam called, “Now—­now—­now—­”

A single push of 300 or 400 pounds would scarcely have moved the stub, but these little fifty-pound pushes at just the right time made it give more and more, and after three or four minutes the roots, that had begun to crack, gave way with a craunching sound, and down crashed the great stub.  Its hollow top struck across a fallen log and burst open in a shower of dust, splinters and rotten wood.  The boys rushed to the spot to catch the Squirrel, if possible.  It did not scramble out as they expected it would, even when they turned over the fragments.  They found the front of the stub with the old Woodpecker