CRAY SANK--A VICTIM TO HIS FOLLY]

  The big Ground-beast below seized on the quivering, warm young body,and yelled aloud: "Billy, Billee, I got him; a great big Silvergray!Yahoo!"

  But the meaning of that was unknown to the little mother and the rest.They only knew that a huge, savage Brute had killed their littlebrother, and was filling the woods with its hideous blood-curdlingroars.

  _BANNERTAIL FALLS INTO A SNARE_

  CHAPTER XXV

  BANNERTAIL FALLS INTO A SNARE

  BANNERTAIL was now in fresh midsummer coat of sleekest gray. His tailwas a silver plume, and bigger than himself. His health was perfect. Andjust so surely as a sick one longs to be and to stay at home, so a lustySquirrel hankers to go a-roaming.

  Swinging from tree to tree, leaping the familiar jump-ways, he left thefamily one early morning, drank deeply at the spring brook, went onaground "hoppity-hop" for a dozen hops, then stopped to look around andfrisk his tail. Then on, and again a look around. So he left thehickory woods, and swung a mile away, till at last he was on the farhillside where first he met the Redhead.

  High in a tasselled pine he climbed and sat, and his fine nose took inthe pleasant gum smells with the zest that came from their strangenessas much as from their sweetness.

  As he sat he heard a rustling, racketty little noise in the thicketnear. Flattening to the bough and tightening in his tail he watched.What should appear but his old enemy, the Redhead, dragging, strugglingwith something on the ground, stopping to sputter out his energetic,angry "_Snick, snick_," as the thing he dragged caught in roots andtwigs. Bannertail lay very low and watched intently. The Redsquirrelfussed and worked with his burden, now close at hand. Bannertail sawthat it was a flat, round thing, like an acorn-cup, only many timeslarger, and reddish, with a big, thick stem on the wrong side--a stemthat was white, like new-peeled wood.

  Bannertail had seen such growing in the woods, once or twice; littleones they were, but his nose and his inner guide had said: "Let themalone." And here was this fiery little Redsquirrel dragging one off asthough he had a prize! Sometimes he lifted it bodily and made goodheadway, sometimes it dragged and caught in the growing twigs. At lastit got fixed between two, and with the energy and fury that so often gowith red hair, the Redhead jerked, shoved, and heaved, and the brittle,red-topped toadstool broke in two or three crisp pieces. As he sputteredand Squirrel-cussed, there was a warning Bluejay note. Redhead ran upthe nearest tree; as it happened, the one in which was Bannertail, andin an instant the enemies were face to face. "Scold and fight" is theRedsquirrel's first impulse, but when Bannertail rose up to full heightand spread his wondrous tail the Red one was appalled. He knew his foeagain; his keen, discriminating nose got proofs of that. The memory ofdefeat was with him yet. He retreated, snick-sputtering, and finallywent wholly out of sight.

  When all was still, Bannertail made his way to the broken mushroom; rosyred and beautiful its cap, snowy white its stem and its crisp, juicyflesh.

  But of this he took no count. The smelling of it was his great chemictest. It had the quaint, earthy odor of the little ones he had seenbefore, and yet a pungent, food-like smell, like butternuts, indeed,with the sharp pepper tang of the rind a little strong, and a whiff,too, of the many-legged crawling things that he had learned to shun.Still, it was alluring as food. And now was a crucial time, a veritabletrail fork. Had Bannertail been fed and full, the tiny little sense ofrepulsion would have turned the scale, would have reasserted andstrengthened the first true verdict of his guides--"Bad, let it alone."But it had an attractive nut-like aroma that was sweetly appetizing,that set his mouth a-watering; and this thing turned the scale--he washungry.

  He nibbled and liked it, and nibbled yet more. And though it was a big,broad mushroom, he stopped not till it all was gone. Food, good food itsurely was. But it was something more; the weird juices that are theearth-child's blood entered into him and set the fountains of his lifeforce playing with marvellous power. He was elated. He was full offight. He flung out a defiant "_Qua!_" at a Hen-hawk flying over. Herummaged through the pines to find that fighting Redsquirrel. He leapedtree gaps that he would not at another time have dared. Yes, and hefell, too; but the ample silver plume behind was there to land himsoftly on the earth. He made a long, far, racing journey, saw hills andwoods that were new to him. He came to a big farmhouse like the one hisyouth had known, but passed it by, and galloped to another hillside.From the top of a pine he vented his wild spirits in a boisteroussong--the song of spring and fine weather, and the song of autumn timeand vigor.

  The sun was low when, feeling his elation gone, feeling dumb and drowsy,indeed, he climbed the homestead tree and glided into the old Hawk nestto curl in his usual place beside his family.

  Silvergray sniffed suspiciously; she smelled his whiskers, shenibble-nibbled with tongue and lips at the odd-smelling specks ofwhitish food on his coat, and the juices staining his face and paws.New food; it was strange, but pleased her not. A little puzzled, shewent to sleep, and Bannertail's big tail was coverlet for all thefamily.

  _THE ADDICT_

  CHAPTER XXVI

  THE ADDICT

  THE sun came up, with its joyous wakening of the woods. All the Squirrelworld was bright and alert--all but one. Mother went forth to the sun-upmeal, Brownhead went rollicking forth, and Nyek-nyek went gliding, too.But Bannertail lay still. He had no words to state his case; he did notknow that he had a case to state. He only knew that he was dull and sad,and did not feel the early morning call of joy. The juices of his weirdfeast were dried on paws and head, and the smell of them, though faint,was nauseating to him.

  He did not move that day; he had no desire to move. The sun was low whenat length he went forth and down. At the crystal spring he drank deepand drank again. Silvergray licked his fur when he came back with theyoungsters to the nest. He was better now, and next sun-up was himselfagain, the big, boisterous, rollicking Squirrel of the plumy tail, theplaymate of the young ones, the husband of his wife. And their merrylives went on, till one morning, on the bank of the creek that flowedfrom the high hill-country, he found a tiny, shiny fragment of the weirdspellbinding mushroom. A table scrap, no doubt, flood-borne from aRedhead feast. He sniffed, as he sniffed all new, strange things. A moonback it would have been doubtful or repellent, but he had closed hisears to the first warning of the inner guide; so the warning now wasvery low. He had yielded to the slight appetite for this weird taste,so that appetite was stronger. He eagerly gobbled the shining, brokenbit, and, possessed of keen desire for more, went bounding and pausingand fluffing, farther, farther off, nor stopped till once more high inthe hill-country, among the pines and the banks where the toadstools ofblack magic grew.

  Very keen was Bannertail when he swung from the overhead highway of thepines to the ground, to gallop over banks with nose alert. Nor had hefar to go. This was toadstool time, and a scattered band of theseembodied earth-sprites was spotting a sunlit bank with their smooth andblushing caps.

  Was there in his little soul still a warning whisper? Yes. Just alittle, a final, feeble "Beware, touch it not!"--very faint comparedwith the first-time warning, and now to be silenced by counter-doings,just as a single trail in the sand is wholly blotted out by a latertrail much used that goes counterwise across it.

  Just a little pause made he, when the sick smell of the nearesttoadstool was felt and measured by his nose. The lust for that strongfoody taste was overdominating. He seized and crunched and revelled inthe flowing juices and the rank nut taste, the pepper tang, thetoothsome mouthiness, and gobbled with growing unreined greed, not one,but two or three--he gorged on them; and though stuffed and full, stillfilled with lust that is to hunger what wounding is to soft caress. Herushed from one madcap toadstool to another, driving in his teeth,revelling in their flowing juices, like the blood of earthy gnomes, andrushed for joy up one tall tree after another. Then, sensing theRedsquirrels, pursued them in a sort of berserker rage, eager for fight,desperate fight, any fight, fight
without hate, that would outlet hisdangerous, boiling power, his overflow of energy. Joy and power werepossessing his small brain and lusty frame. He found another bank ofmadcap cups; he was too gorged to eat them, but he tossed and chewed thejuicy cups and stems. He raced after a fearsome Water-snake on a sunnybank, and, scared by the fury of his onslaught, the Snake slipped out ofsight. He galloped up a mighty pine-tree, on whose highest limbs weretwo great Flickers, clacking. He chased them recklessly, then, clingingto a bark flake that proved loose, he was launched into the air, ahundred feet to fall. But his glorious tail was there to serve, and itsoftly let him down to earth. It was well for him that he met no cat ordog that day, for the little earth-born demon in his soul had cast outfear as well as wisdom.

  And Mother Carey must have wept as she saw this very dear one take intohis body and his brain a madness that would surely end his life. Sheloved him, but far more she loved his race. And just a little longer shewould wait, and give him yet one chance. And if he willed not to bestrong, then must he pay the price.

  Not happy was his homecoming that night. Silvergray sniffed at hiswhiskers. She liked not his breath. There was no kindness in her voice,her only sound a harsh, low "_Grrrff!_"

  And the family life went on.

  _THE DREGS OF THE CUP_

  CHAPTER XXVII

  THE DREGS OF THE CUP

  BUT next morning! Why should it be told? It was as before, but farworse. So high as the peak is above the plain, so far is the plain belowthe peak. A crushed and broken Bannertail it was that lay enfeebled inthe nest next day when the family went forth to feed and frolic.

  Not that day did he go out, or wish to go. Sick unto death was he; sosick he did not care. The rest let him alone. They did not understand,and there was something about him which made them keep away. Next day hecrawled forth slowly and drank at the spring. That day he lay on thesunning dray and ate but little. More than one sun arose and set beforehe was again the strong, hale, hearty Bannertail, the father of hisfamily, the companion and protector of his wife.

  _THE WAY OF DESTRUCTION_

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  THE WAY OF DESTRUCTION

  THE little mother did not understand; she only had a growing sense ofdistrust, of repulsion, and an innate hatred of that strange complexityof smells. The children did not understand, but something there wasabout their father these times that made them much afraid.

  They knew only the sorrow of it. They had no knowledge of how it came orhow to prevent its coming. But big and everywhere is the All-Mother,Mother Carey, the wise one who seeks to have her strong ones build therace. Twice had she warned him. Now he should have one more chance.

  The Thunder-moon, July, was dominating Jersey woods, when the lusty lifeforce of the father Graycoat inevitably sent him roving to the woods ofthe madcaps. Plenty they were now, and many had been stored by theRedsquirrels for winter use, for this is the riddle of their being, thatthe Redsquirrels long ago have learned. On the bank, when they arerooted in the earth, their juices from the underworld are full ofdiabolic subtlety, are tempting in the mouth as they are deadly in theblood and sure destruction at the last. They must be uprooted, carriedfar from the ground and the underground, and high hung in the blessedpurifying pine tops, where Father Sun can burn away their evil. There,after long months of sun and wind and rain purgation, their earth-bornbodies are redeemed, are wholesome Squirrel food. This was the lessonMother Carey had taught the Redheads, for their country is the countryof the fool-trap toadstools. But the Graycoats know it not. AndBannertail came again.

  _MOTHER CAREY'S LASH_

  CHAPTER XXIX

  MOTHER CAREY'S LASH

  THE wise men tell us that it is the same as the venom of Snakes. Theytell us that it comes when the fool-trap toadstool is grown stale, andby these ye may know its hidden presence: When the cap is old andupturned at the edge, when hell-born maggots crawl and burrow and revelin the stem, when drops of gummy, poisonous yellow blood ooze forth,when both its smells--the warning smell of the crawling hundred-leggerand the alluring smell of strong green butternuts--are multiplied tofourfold power.

  Their day was nearly over. They were now like old worn hags, whosebeauty is gone, and with it their power to please--hags who have becomeembittered and seek only to destroy. So the fool-trap toadstools waited,silently as hunters' deadfalls wait, until the moment comes to strike.

  It was the same sweet piny woods, the same bright sparkling stream, andthe Song-hawk wheeled and sang the same loud song, as Bannertail cameonce again to seek his earth-born food, to gratify his growing lust.

  And Mother Carey led him on.

  Plentifully strewn were the unholy madcaps, broad bent and wrinkled now,their weird aroma stronger and to a morbid taste more alluring. Even yeta tiny warning came as he sniffed their rancid, noxious aura. The nutallurement, too, was strong, and Bannertail rejoiced.

  The feast was like the other, but shorter, more restrained. There werelittle loathsome whiffs and acrid hints that robbed it of its zest.Long before half a meal, the little warden that dwells somewhere betwixtmouth and maw began to send offensive messages to his brain, and evenwith a bite between his teeth there set in strong a fearful devastatingrevulsion, a climax of disgust, a maw-revolt, an absolute loathing.

  His mouth was dripping with its natural juice, something gripped histhroat, the last morsel was there and seemed to stick. He tight closedhis eyes, violently shook his head. The choking lump was shaken out.Pains shot through his body. Limbs and lungs were cramped. He lay flaton the bank with head down-hill. He jerked his head from side to sidewith violent insistence. His stomach yielded most of the fateful mass.But the poison had entered into his body, already was coursing in hisveins.

  Writhing with agony, overwhelmed with loathing, he lay almost as dead,and the smallest enemy he ever had might now and easily have wreaked thelimit of revenge. It was accident so far as he was concerned that madehim crawl into a dense thicket and like dead to lie all that day and thenight and the next day. And dead he would have been but for the unusualvigor of his superb body. Good Mother Carey kept his enemies away.

  Back at the home nest the mate and family missed him, not much orpointedly, as would folk of a larger brain and life, but they missedhim; and from the tall, smooth shaft that afternoon the little mothersent a long "_qua_" call. But there was no answering "_qua_." She had nomeans of knowing; she had no way of giving help had she known.

  The sun was low on Jersey hills that second day when poor brokenBannertail, near-dead Bannertail, came to himself, his much-enfeebledself. His head was throbbing, his body was cramped with pain, his mouthwas dry and burning. Down-hill he crawled and groped slowly to therunning stream and drank. It revived him a little, enough so he couldcrawl up the bank and seek a dry place under a log to lie in peace--sad,miserable, moaning peace.

  Three days he suffered there, but the fever had turned on that firstnight; from the moment of that cooling drink he was on the mend. Forfood he had no wish, but daily and deeply he drank at the stream.

  On that third day he was well enough to scramble up the hill; he passeda scattering group of the earthy madcaps. Oh, how he loathed them; theirvery smell set his mouth a-dripping, refusing its own proper juice.

  Good things there were to eat on the ground, but he had little appetite,though for three days he had not eaten. He passed by fat white grubs andeven nuts, but when he found some late wild strawberries he munched themeagerly. Their acid sweetness, their fragrant saneness, were what hispoor sick body craved. He rested, then climbed a leaning tree. He hadnot strength for a real climb. In an old abandoned Flicker hole hecurled himself in safety, and strong, gentle Mother Nature, MotherCarey, loving ever the brave ones that never give up, now spread herkindly influence, protecting, round about him and gave him blessed,blessed sleep.

  _HIS AWAKENING_

  CHAPTER XXX

  HIS AWAKENING

  IT was late on that fourth day when Bannertail awoke. He was a littlebetter now. He s
lowly went down that tree, tail first; very sick,indeed, is a Squirrel when he goes down a tree tail first. Sweet,cooling water was his need, and again a fragrant meal of the tonicstrawberries; then back to the tree.

  Next day he was up with the morning Robins, and now was possessed of theimpulse to go home. Vague pictures of his mate and little ones, and themerry home tree, came on his ever-clearer brain. He set out with a fewshort hops, as he used to go, and, first sign of sanity, he stopped tofluff his tail. He noticed that it was soiled with gum. Nothing candethrone that needful basic instinct to keep in order and perfect thetail. He set to work and combed and licked each long and silvered hair;he fluffed it out and tried its billowy beauty, and having made sure ofits perfect trim he kept on, cleaned his coat, combed it, went to thebrook-side and washed his face and paws clean of every trace of thatunspeakable stuff, and in the very cleansing gave himself new strength.Sleek and once more somewhat like himself he was, when on he went,bounding homeward with not short bounds, but using every little lookouton the way to peer around and fluff and jerk his tail.