But it was only November, and we young ones had as yet no idea of retiring for the winter. On fine days, especially when frost was in the air, we were as frisky9 as ever, and had magnificent games among the heaps of dead leaves. It was the[120] greatest fun possible to take running headers from the long, bare tips of the beech boughs10, falling on the soft, elastic12 cushion of leaves, in which one completely disappeared, just as a water-rat does in a pond. Under the leaves the ground was still thick with ripe beech-mast, so there was no need as yet to infringe13 upon our winter stores. There were pine-cones14, too, by way of change, and fallen hazel-nuts, though these were getting scarce now that not only we but our distant cousins, the dormice, had been getting in winter stores.
Our own preparations for winter were quite complete. The last piece of work had been to line our home thoroughly16 with dry moss17, and partially18 to stop up the entrance which had been so large that, when the wind blew that way, it made cold draughts19 whistle round inside. For this work we young ones collected the material while mother did the building, and Rusty20 and I gathered useful hints for the future.
All these days, when the air was still, or the wind blew from the direction of the Hall, we could hear in the distance the clink, clink of axes—a novel sound in this country-side, where the Squire21 and his forebears before him had had the true Englishman’s love of timber, and thought not twice but many[121] times before cutting down a single tree. But for a long time our solitude22 was not invaded, except by a few school-children picking late blackberries or nuts, or a labourer returning from his work along the wood-path. Then, one fine morning early in November, when Rusty and I were having our usual morning scramble23, the sharp report of a gun sent us skurrying to the nearest refuge, which happened to be a tall fir-tree not far from the coppice gate. Bang again!—this time closer. Rusty looked out but dodged24 back with great rapidity. He intimated to me that the young murderer from the Hall had appeared and that he, Rusty, didn’t mean to move until he disappeared.
Bang again! A cock pheasant came whirring up past us, rocketing high over the tops of the trees, and a second dose of shot, hopelessly too late, sent a shower of twigs25 scattering26 from the tree just over our heads, and made us cower27 the closer against the trunk.
Steps came trampling28 past beneath us, and the firing became fast and furious. Every living thing took cover, or, if it had wings, departed as fast as they would carry it. The racket did not last long, and, as we found out later, the bag was not a large one. The Hall’s new tenants29 were not good shots,[122] and their new keeper, who had supplanted30 old Crump, did not know his business. As soon as the noise had died away we made the best of our way home, and found mother and Hazel, who had been lying close at home, extremely relieved to see us safe back once more.
Several times again before the winter the solitude of our coppice was invaded by the same party—the little stout31 man with the mutton-chop whiskers, his white-collared, pasty-faced son, and a tall keeper with a ginger32 beard. But after their first two visits none of the coppice people paid much attention to them beyond sitting tight in cover. The very pheasants—stupid fellows as they are—made jeering33 remarks about their inability to kill anything unless it happened to be fool enough to sit still to be fired at.
What did cause much more serious alarm was the rumour34 of a new and most dangerous enemy. The news came to us through a strange squirrel whom Rusty and I met one cold bright morning rummaging35 among the deep beech-leaves for a breakfast of mast. The poor fellow had a nasty wound at the back of his neck, and looked thin and miserable36. He was so nervous that when he heard us coming he bolted wildly up a tree. We called[123] to him, and, looking rather ashamed of himself, he came back and met us.
‘What’s up?’ inquired I. ‘We’re not going to eat you. Come down and finish your breakfast.’
‘Ugh! don’t talk of eating!’ he answered in trembling tones. ‘You wouldn’t if you’d been so nearly eaten as I was three days ago;’ and he showed us his wound.
‘Weasel?’ Rusty asked.
‘No—much worse.’
‘What, not a fox?’
‘I’m not quite fool enough to sit on the ground and let a fox catch me,’ retorted the stranger. ‘It was a wild-cat.’
‘Wild-cat!’ exclaimed I. ‘Why, I’d no idea there were any left in these parts!’
‘No more had I,’ put in Rusty. ‘Mother says that a very old squirrel once told her that his father had seen a wild-cat, but that’s ever so many years ago. There are none left now.’
‘None left!’ returned the other angrily. ‘Very well; all I say is, wait. Your turn will come.’
He was clearing out in a huff when I stopped him.
‘Wait a minute. I want to hear all about it. Anyone can see you’ve been badly mauled.[124] Come with us up into our beech-tree, and I’ll find you a better breakfast than this half-rotten stuff; then you can tell us all about it.’
After a little more persuasion37, he cooled down and accompanied us, and we all heard his story. It appeared that a week before he and one of his brothers had visited a Spanish chestnut38 they knew of at some distance from their home, which was in a large wood about a mile away, when, without the slightest warning, a great cat had sprung out of a patch of dead bracken close by, and with two quick swings of her terrible paws bowled them both over. Our new acquaintance owed his life to the fact that he had seen the enemy coming just in time to duck, and, consequently, had received the full force of the blow upon his neck instead of his head. But even so he had been stunned39, and had recovered his senses only in time to see the savage40 beast running rapidly away among the underbrush with the dead body of his brother swinging limp between her powerful jaws41. Knowing that she would come back for him, he had summoned all his remaining energies, and succeeded in climbing into a pollard oak and hiding in a knot-hole in its spreading top. From there he watched the robber return, moving noiselessly across the dead grass and leaves on[125] velvet-cushioned paws; noted42 the grey coat, stiff and coarse, the short tail, broad head, and small, close-rounded ears; had seen her search snuffing among the dead leaves, moving round and round in impatient circles, and shivered in his terror. But fortune was good to him, for after a time, which seemed endless, the cat, tired of her vain search, had at last turned, and with tail straight up padded softly back the way she had come. But it was not until nearly sunset that the wounded squirrel had made shift to crawl home, sore and aching, and there he had lain for two whole days. Alas43! the tale of his sorrows was not yet told. On the third day his mother went out about midday to bring in some food, and never came back! Towards evening his father had gone to search for her, and returned at dark with the terrible tidings that the same stealthy fiend had captured her too. He had found some gnawed44 bones and her brush—that was all!
By this time the whole wood was in a state of panic. Rabbits, pheasants, and squirrels, all had suffered alike. The cat, it was said, was only one of a family who had taken up their abode45 in an immense hollow hornbeam in the centre of the wood. A regular reign46 of terror set in, and our[126] new friend, whose name was Cob, together with his father and his sister, the only survivors47 of the family, had decided48 to emigrate before worse happened.
We were all very sorry for the unfortunates. A worse time for squirrels to emigrate could hardly be imagined, for, of course, they had been forced to abandon all their winter stores and their nest, which had been strengthened against the cold weather. It was now too late in the season to collect a proper provision, and they stood a very good chance of starving if the winter should turn out a severe one. You will understand that we young ones, who had never yet been through a winter, were not able to realize quite how serious the misfortune was; but mother, who had seen the snows of three years, thoroughly comprehended the situation, and at once bade Rusty and myself do all we could to assist the unlucky family. Next morning we paid a visit to their temporary quarters, a large untidy hole in a hollow oak, and after first showing them where the last few nuts were to be found in the ditch below the hazel-bushes, set to work to discover better quarters for them. Of course, by this time we knew our coppice from end to end. There was not a tree we were not familiar with from root[127] to topmost branch. But after a good deal of consideration and discussion, we decided that the best refuge was another hole lower down in our own tree. It was one that mother had thought of seriously, after father’s death, as a residence for ourselves, but had decided against as being rather too small. However, we found on making a thorough examination that the wood on one side of it was so rotten that it could easily be dug out, and then the hollow would be amply large enough to accommodate the three wanderers. They, on their part, were devoutly49 grateful for the trouble we had taken on their behalf, and thanked us most cordially. Cob’s sister, whose name was Sable50, a little, dark-furred creature, quite touched me by her shyly-expressed gratitude51.
Autumn was now far advanced, and we had had several very sharp frosts. Except for the oaks, to which their dead, dry leaves still clung, the trees were bare. Rusty and I took our morning exercise among the denser52 foliage of the evergreen5 firs and larches53, of which there were fortunately a good number in our coppice. I say fortunately because, where these trees are handy a squirrel need never starve even in the hardest weather. Not that squirrels are given to starving. Unless owing to[128] some quite unforeseen and unusual accident we are as well able to fend55 for ourselves even in the hardest winters as any inhabitants of the woodland.
The migrant birds had all left long ago, and the woods were quieter than of old. Not that there was not plenty of life remaining. The wood-pigeons still pecked among the beech leaves for mast; great tits and tomtits moved restlessly among the branches of our beech; flights of long-tail tits talked softly in the tops of the evergreens. Finches of many kinds—greenfinch, chaffinch, bullfinch, and even a few hawfinches, feasted on the hawthorn56 berries which hung thickly on the bare hedges, and began to take their toll57 of the fast-reddening holly58. The privet and mountain-ash berries were gone long ago. These form the pet dessert of bird life, and are always cleaned up almost before they are ripe. So, too, was the sticky scarlet59 fruit of three gnarled old yews60 which stood in a little group all by themselves just beyond the rabbit-warren where the ground sloped towards the brook61. Thrushes and blackbirds still visited their’ dark recesses62, but more from habit than for any other reason.
Redwings and fieldfares fed in small flocks across the open ground, and shared with the[129] starlings and rooks the insect food of which they are so fond. The grass, no longer green but browned at the tips by frost and sodden63 from lack of sun, had ceased to grow, and feed was becoming short. I noticed that the cattle had taken to the higher ground instead of feeding along the brook; and that in the mornings when the frost-dew hung thick on the meadows, they wandered along the hedgerows, picking drier mouthfuls from the bank.
Some of our acquaintances had already retired64 for the winter. The hedgehogs were no longer to be seen making leisurely65 progress along the hedge-banks; they had all gone to sleep deep in leaf-lined crevices66 under the blackthorn roots; the dormice had followed their example, and curled themselves up for the winter in their delicately woven globes of grass and fibre. Mr. Dormouse is a heavier sleeper67 than we are, yet not above rousing for a square meal if the sun comes out warm and bright on a January morning. Snakes, slow-worms and lizards68 had all disappeared long ago, and would not move again for more than four months. I had not seen a bat for a fortnight, and I fancy the last of them had joined his comrades hung up in the church-tower or in Farmer Martin’s[130] thatched barn, stiff and motionless like dead game in the Hall larder69.
Field-mice showed when the sun came out, dodging70 about on the surface of the dead leaves, apparently71 very busy, and yet never appearing to accomplish anything in particular. But they would soon follow most of the four-legged denizens72 of the coppice into winter-quarters, and leave the bare woods to the birds, the rabbits, and the cunning, hungry fox.
Of the wild-cat, the terror of the neighbouring wood, we heard nothing at all; and though I often talked of her with Cob and his sister, we did not imagine that there was much chance of her raiding so far from home. Cob gradually recovered from his wound, and, as food was still fairly plentiful73, he grew fat and strong again.
Nothing occurred to disturb the even tenor74 of those last few days before winter set in in earnest; and the silence that reigned75 in the coppice was broken only by the cheery song of the robin76, the low twitter of the tits, and occasionally the clear pipe of the missel-thrush. Then came a day when the wind turned to the north-east, and a new biting, penetrating77 chill filled the bleak78 air.
[131]
For the first time in my experience mother absolutely refused to leave the nest.
‘Children,’ she said drowsily79, ‘it’s going to snow. I feel it in my bones. Close the door with moss and let us sleep.’
Pushing a bunch of moss into the opening, she curled herself into the deepest, darkest corner of our snug80 retreat, and almost instantly fell into a sleep deeper than ever we had seen or dreamed of. Squirrels, you must know, are never still for more than a few minutes at a time in their ordinary sleep. I know that, whenever I wake at night, and that is very often, especially now that I am no longer young, some of my family are always moving their legs, twitching81 about like a dog that lies before the fire and hunts rabbits in its dreams. But this was a different thing, this sleep of mother’s—she lay like a dead thing on her side, her splendid brush curled round and over her, and, as we watched, her breathing seemed to slow until it became almost imperceptible.
We, too, felt strangely drowsy82; but yet, with all the curiosity of youth, would not yield to it, so anxious were we to see this snow of which we had heard so often. The wind whistled in stronger and stronger gusts83, making weird84 wailing85 sounds among[132] the bare branches; the sky, already one uniform mass of greyish cloud, grew duller and thicker, while up to windward a darkness like that of the winter twilight86 began to cover the land. Rusty and I, peering out through a small hole in the moss, saw the great trees bending and swaying in the increasing blast, while the dead leaves raised by the wind rustled87 and rattled89 in brown clouds along the ground below. Then suddenly, and as if by magic, the whole air was swarming90 with little white atoms, which whirled and fluttered silently in a mad dance. Thicker and thicker they came till the sky was blotted91 out, and even the trees close by were nearly hidden behind the waving white veil. All along the eastern edges of the beech-tree limbs lines of pure white appeared and grew, while the dry leaves below stopped their rustling as they vanished, hidden beneath a carpet whiter than fallen hawthorn petals92. To us, who had never seen the like before, it was a wonderful sight, and we gazed and gazed as if we should never tire. But gradually the drowsiness93 of the snow-sleep came upon us and mastered us, and, whether we would or no, closed our eyes. Rusty slipped limply back, and lay like a dead thing beside the quiet forms of Hazel and my mother. I remember[133] vaguely94 pushing back the plug of moss into position, and then I, too, fell back and sank away into a long, delicious, dreamless slumber95.
It may have been a day, or a week, or, for all I know, a month before I woke again. My sleep had been so deep that for a full minute I was quite unable to realize where I was or what had happened, and I lay contentedly96 still in that pleasant, dreamy state between sleep and wakefulness. Then my eye was caught by a tiny brilliant sunbeam, which, striking through some minute interstice in the mossy door, made a little path of golden light in which little motes97 of dust danced gaily98 across our hollow retreat.
Slowly recollection returned, and with it a feeling of perfectly99 ravenous100 hunger. Struggling up out of the deep hollow in my mossy bed into which I had sunk, I stretched, yawned, and, looking round, saw Rusty with one eye open gazing at me with a drowsy, puzzled expression. Mother and Hazel were still wrapped in deepest sleep.
I barked to wake Rusty; but he only blinked at me without speaking, until at last I leant over and nipped his ear. That woke him.
[134]
I told him I was simply starving.
‘Come to think of it, so am I,’ he said, stretching and yawning in his turn. ‘Let’s go and get some grub.’
‘Hadn’t we better wake mother and Hazel?’ I suggested. But Rusty thought not, since they were so sound asleep. Standing103 up on my hind-legs, I pulled away the plug of moss that closed the entrance, and sprang out, with Rusty close at my heels. What a sight met our eyes! Even hunger was forgotten in amazement104. The rays of the morning sun shining from a sky of clearest, palest blue were reflected back from one universal dazzle of white. Below us the ground was an even plain of snow, which had covered up and hidden grass, dead fern, fallen branches, ant and mole105 heaps—all the irregularities to which our eyes were accustomed—under its deep smooth carpet. From the bare branches of the beeches106 and oaks the snow had melted and fallen away, but the evergreen boughs still bent107 under heavy loads, from which in places long, transparent108 icicles drooped109. It was freezing hard, for the surface of the snow sparkled with crystals of ice, which shone more brilliantly even[135] than dewdrops in the slanting110 rays. No breath of air stirred under the cloudless heavens, and the wood had a new stillness which was almost awe-inspiring.
But, oh, the air! Cold as it was, it had a dry tingle111 which set the blood fairly racing112 in our veins113, and every moment increased our already ravenous hunger. Recovering from our amazement at the strange novelty of all around us, we bounded off together, intent on a store of beech-mast which lay beneath a twisted root of our own old beech.
It was a queer sensation, that first landing upon the snow. So hard frozen was it that our light weights made no impression upon it whatsoever114. You would have needed the skill of a fox to find our tracks. Rusty was the first to reach the spot where we had made our store.
‘Snakes’ eyes and adders’ tongues!’ he exclaimed—Rusty was sadly given to the use of bad language—‘this white stuff has covered it all up, and I’m hungry enough to eat a sprouting115 acorn116.’
‘Dig, you duffer!’ I answered him, and together we set to work, our sharp claws sending the crisp snow flying in clouds behind us. Suddenly the[136] crust gave way, and we both tumbled through, one on top of the other, into a good sized hollow beneath. At first Rusty was much annoyed, considering it all my fault. However, as soon as he discovered that we were actually on top of our larder, he recovered, and began with all speed to scratch out the mast from the nooks and corners in which it had been stored.
Some people will tell you that a squirrel never hides two nuts in the same place, but this is not quite the fact. As I have said before, we all have a very natural objection to piling a whole score of nuts or other provender117 together in one place; for then, if any marauder does come along, he naturally gets the whole lot. But it must not be imagined that a separate hiding-place is made for each single nut or acorn. No; when we discover a good place for a larder, such as the hollow I am now speaking of, we often put quite a quantity of food into it, poking118 each separate morsel119 into a different crack or corner.
That was a royal feast. I am quite certain that neither Rusty nor I had ever been so hungry before in the whole of our short lives; and this makes me suspect that we had been asleep for at least a fortnight, or possibly more. At last Rusty, after a[137] vain rummage120 in the furthest corner of the hollow, turned on me:
‘You greedy pig, Scud, you’ve eaten the last bit of mast!’
‘Well, you are a good one!’ I retorted, laughing. ‘I don’t mind betting you a chestnut that you’ve eaten more than me.’
‘Anyhow, there’s nothing left here,’ replied Rusty in a very aggrieved121 tone. ‘At this rate our stores won’t last long.’
‘There is any amount left,’ I told him, ‘and it seems to me that travelling is safer and better than ever. We’ll go round and hunt up some of those hazel-nuts under the hedge next time.’
‘All very well if this weather lasts,’ grumbled122 my brother, who always loved a grievance123. ‘But suppose it melts. Mother said it often did. Then the grass will be all wet and beastly, and the ditch probably full of water. Or suppose more snow falls; then everything will be covered up.’
‘’Pon my fur, you’re as bad as a frog!’ I retorted. ‘Never was such a squirrel to croak124. Come along out of this dark hole. I want some exercise.’
As we crawled out a bark hailed us from above, and there was Cob sitting out on a low branch over our heads.
[138]
‘I say, you fellows,’ he cried, ‘this is jolly, isn’t it?
‘Ripping!’ I answered. ‘Have you had a feed?’
‘Yes, I’ve had some mast; but we haven’t much, so I thought of going over to the fir-trees and looking for some cones.’
‘Right you are. We’ll come too. I’m still hungry enough to eat the most turpentiny cone15 in the coppice.’
So the three of us scuttled125 off across the crisp surface, and after satisfying ourselves with pine-kernels and a little of the inner bark from the branch tips by way of dessert, proceeded to rouse the wood with a thorough good scamper126. We had the whole place quite to ourselves except for the birds. The wood-pigeons seemed as cheerful as usual, and the tits were busy pecking along the branches. But I must say I felt sorry for the robins127, the thrushes, and blackbirds, and most of the other feathered creatures. The poor things seemed to have no life left in them. They sat huddled128 up in the sunshine with their feathers all fluffed out, till they looked twice as big as usual, but evidently they were all pretty hungry. Birds, you know, do not suffer much from cold directly, but when there is hard frost, and especially when frozen snow covers the ground, they have to go on[139] very short commons. Those that feed on the grubs that live in tree trunks do well enough, and, of course, the sparrows and finches visit the rick and farm yards, and so provide for themselves. It is the berry and worm-eating birds who are worst off in weather of this kind. The hips129 and haws do not last long, and in really severe frost the holly berries also disappear, leaving only such untempting food as the hard dark ivy130 berries. Worse than all is the lack of water, and I fancy as many birds perish from thirst during a long frost as from all other causes put together.
When the low sun began to drop towards the west the cold increased, and we three hurried home and went to sleep again. But a day or two later the same brilliant sun called us again, and this time we resolved to pay our promised visit to the hedge by the hazel bushes, where we had buried the first of our nuts. At our special request Cob accompanied us. He, good fellow, as I discovered, was half-starving himself, in order to keep a supply for his sister and father, in case they woke up, so I consulted Rusty, and we agreed that we would take him with us and stand him a good feed out of our nut-store.
When we reached the place, we found, much[140] to our disgust, that the ditch was quite full of snow, which had drifted in from the field. There was nothing for it but to begin a regular quarrying131 job, and very hard work we found it. Cob worked like a mole, and but for his useful assistance we should hardly have succeeded in reaching the treasure stored beneath the old thorn stump132. As it was, we must have been digging fully133 two hours before we at last hit upon the right spot, and what with the keen air and the hard work we were pretty sharp-set by the time the plump brown beauties were unearthed134.
‘Great water rats!’ exclaimed Rusty, driving his strong front teeth through the glossy135 shell of his first nut, and jerking away the pieces with quick, hungry tugs136. ‘This is fine! All the sun and none of the wind. Just the place for a good feed and a rest.’
‘All the same, I hate being on the ground,’ said Cob, uneasily glancing round at the steep walls of snow which surrounded the little white pit which we had dug, and at the bottom of which we sat feasting.
Rusty uttered a disdainful snort.
‘What’s to hurt us here? A weasel wouldn’t trust himself in this dazzle of snow, and foxes[141] don’t prowl in the daytime, let alone in a sun like this.’
‘Oh, I know it’s foolish,’ answered Cob humbly137. ‘But I’ve been that way ever since the time that I had that escape from——’
His voice died away in a sharp choking gasp138. Looking round in some surprise, I saw him staring upwards139, a frozen horror in his wide eyes. Following his glance, I saw glaring down upon us through the hedge two cruel green orbs140 set in a wide grey face. It did not need the short ears, the stiff whiskers, or the rows of sharp white teeth, bared in a hungry grin, to tell me that I was looking upon the terror of the woods, the wild-cat of Merton Spinney.
The awful head was hardly a yard away. Its owner had crawled up unseen on the far side of the hedge—that is, inside the coppice, for we were in the ditch outside—and having got wind of us, was endeavouring to creep through unseen and unheard, so as to pounce141 upon us unawares. It was the lucky chance of our having Cob with us, whose hearing was acute beyond either Rusty’s or my own, that gave us that needful second’s warning. Without it there is no possible doubt but that I should never have been alive to tell this story.
[142]
One often says ‘quick as a cat,’ but it would be just as correct or more so to say ‘quick as a squirrel’; and I am quite certain that hardly half a second elapsed between the moment I set eyes on the cat’s head emerging from the briers and the bound which landed me six feet out of the hole along the ditch to the left. With the best intentions in the world no one of us could have helped the others, but would only have sacrificed his life uselessly if he had tried to. Thinking over the matter since, I have often wondered why the cat did not pounce straight upon Cob, who has confessed that he was so badly frightened that he never jumped until both Rusty and I were clear out of the hole. The fact remains142 that she did not do so. A rustle88 of quickly moved branches, and then a series of soft, padding sounds behind me, proved that I had been selected as her dinner—an attention which, as you may imagine, I could very well have dispensed143 with.
I was badly frightened—there is no use denying it—but I did succeed in keeping my wits about me. In the open, of course, I was no match for her. Her springs were of tremendous length, far greater than mine, for a cat—like all her tribe—can travel at tremendous speed for a short distance. Aware[143] of this, I turned sharp back through the hedge to my right—only just in time, for her cruel teeth snapped not an inch from my brush as I dived through the heart of the hedge. Being smaller than she, I gained a few yards in the passage through the close-set branches, and tore off across the frozen snow at top speed towards the nearest tree. There was no time to pick or choose; I had to take the first that came, and here luck was against me, for it was a tall but slender birch which happened to stand some little distance apart, the nearest tree to it being a beech some fifty feet away.
Up I went with a rush, again missing death by a sort of miracle, for my enemy launched herself at me like a shot from a catapult, striking the bark not the length of my body below my brush. She clung there a moment, and then fell back with a baffled snarl144, and for a moment I thought she had given it up. But I suppose she was very hungry, or perhaps too enraged145 at her first failure to abandon the chase, for the next moment she drew off a few yards, and, coming at the tree with a rush, clattered146 up it, her sharp talons147 ringing against the rough bark.
Naturally my first impulse was to run out towards the beech and jump into it. Could I have done this I should have been safe, for the cat would have[144] had to return to the ground in order to reach the beech-tree. But when I gained the outer end of the birch branch I found to my horror that the gap was full three yards—a terrible jump to risk at any time, but almost certainly fatal if I missed my footing, for before I could recover myself the hungry brute148 would most infallibly have leaped down upon me.
Now I was in a tight place indeed, for already the lithe149, grey form of my cruel foe150 was stealing out along the branch to which I clung, her heavier body causing it to sway and vibrate beneath me. It seemed as though I must take the jump, and chance it. Suddenly I noticed that the cat had stopped. She was lying close along the branch, her hungry eyes glaring at me, her pink tongue slowly licking her lips. It was clear that she was afraid that if she came further the bough11 would not bear her weight.
This gave me a moment’s breathing-space, time to glance round and see if any other avenue of escape was open. At once I noticed another birch bough to my left, and a little higher, but still within fairly easy distance; and on the impulse I sprang, landing full upon it. At this the cat, with another blood-curdling snarl, turned quickly back towards[145] the trunk, but before she could reach it I was off into the very topmost twigs of the birch. Here I felt sure that I was safe, at any rate for the time, for I did not believe the cat would venture so high. To my horror she set herself to follow, and, taking such risks as I never dreamed she would dare, she came slowly but stealthily on my track. All I could do was to crawl out to the thinnest tip that would bear me, cling there, and wait.
With horrible pertinacity151 she followed to the very top of the trunk, and, stationing herself in the last fork that would bear her, crouched152 there, apparently determined153 to wait and starve me out.
I was at my wits’ end, for there seemed no possible avenue of escape. I might remain where I was, you will say, and trust to tiring her out. True; but supposing she refused to be tired out? Remember, it was freezing hard. She could endure the cold; I could not. Sooner or later my muscles would grow numb54, and I should fall either on to the ground or right into her jaws. Another thing (I may as well confess it), I was frightened—so badly frightened that this in itself was actually paralysing my powers. After a few minutes I began to feel as though some unexplainable impulse[146] was forcing me to turn and gaze into those fierce green eyes. I had sense enough to be aware that, once I did this, it was all up. I should become fascinated, and drop right into the cruel jaws that waited so hungrily below.
Against this suicidal impulse I fought with all my might, but in spite of my best efforts it grew upon me until I began to feel that I could endure the torture no longer. It seemed as though it would be a relief to put an end to it, even if it meant ending my life at the same time. The cat seemed to know this, too, and lay below me, stretched at full length, still as the leafless branch on which she crouched.
I was actually turning; in another second I should have yielded as weakly as a miserable house mouse, when suddenly a sharp bark resounded154 from the beech-tree near by. The cat stirred, and for the moment I was saved.
I looked in the direction of the sound. There was Rusty only a few yards away in the beech. Cob was close behind him. Rusty cried out to me sharply:
‘Do you see that bough-tip straight below you?’
‘Yes,’ I answered dully.
‘Can you drop to it?’
[147]
‘I’ll try.’
‘Don’t be a fool! You’ve done much bigger things than that. Here’s our plan: We’ll start barking at the cat and take her attention off you while you drop. It’s a possible jump from the bough below across to this tree, and you’ll have plenty of time, for the cat will have to climb down the trunk. Do you understand?’
‘Yes,’ I replied faintly.
I had been in such a queer dazed condition that I had never even noticed the possible avenue of escape which Rusty pointed155 out. Looking down, it seemed a perfectly terrific drop. Indeed, it was something like twenty feet, and if I missed it there was another thirty to the frozen snow beneath.
‘Are you ready?’ came Rusty’s voice, sharp and threatening.
‘Yes,’ I said again.
A chorus of perfectly frantic156 barks and squeaks157 broke out at once. I heard my enemy move uneasily, and, summoning all my courage, I let myself go and dropped.
I struck the branch beneath, fair and square. Alas! its twigs were thin, elastic, and slippery with frozen snow. A wild grasp with all four paws[148] failed to stop me. Down I went to the ground below.
Oddly enough, this was where my luck turned. If I had fallen on to the hard frozen surface I should almost certainly have been too stunned to move at once. As it was, I alighted on a spot where only a thin coating of powdery snow covered a deep soft cushion of dead leaves. Before the cat was half-way down the birch trunk I was in the beech-tree.
Rusty and Cob were awaiting me.
‘Good squirrel, Scud!’ cried my brother, in tones of such warm praise as absolutely astonished me, for I was intensely ashamed of myself for my cowardice158, and for having had such a tumble.
However, there was no time to waste. With Rusty leading, we were away through the beech into the next tree, and so across the coppice at full speed. The cat, lashing159 her tail with rage, followed for a while across the snow beneath, and once or twice started climbing again after us. But we were most careful to keep in the thickest part of the wood, and whenever she climbed we merely jumped to the next tree. Soon she tired of this—for her—unprofitable pursuit, and stole softly away.
[149]
Not until we had watched her out of the coppice and away along the hedges in the direction of Merton Spinney did we venture to return to our respective homes, where we shut ourselves up snugly160 and went to sleep again.
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1
prevailing
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| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
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2
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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3
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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4
beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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5
evergreen
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| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
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evergreens
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| n.常青树，常绿植物，万年青( evergreen的名词复数 ) | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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8
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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9
frisky
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| adj.活泼的，欢闹的；n.活泼，闹着玩；adv.活泼地，闹着玩地 | |
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10
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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12
elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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13
infringe
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| v.违反，触犯，侵害 | |
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14
cones
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| n.（人眼）圆锥细胞；圆锥体( cone的名词复数 )；球果；圆锥形东西；（盛冰淇淋的）锥形蛋卷筒 | |
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cone
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| n.圆锥体，圆锥形东西，球果 | |
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16
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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17
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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18
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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19
draughts
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| n. <英>国际跳棋 | |
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20
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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21
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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22
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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23
scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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24
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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25
twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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26
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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27
cower
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| v.畏缩，退缩，抖缩 | |
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28
trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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29
tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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30
supplanted
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| 把…排挤掉，取代( supplant的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32
ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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33
jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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34
rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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35
rummaging
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的现在分词 )； 海关检查 | |
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36
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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37
persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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38
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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39
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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40
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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41
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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42
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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43
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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44
gnawed
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| 咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
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45
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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46
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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47
survivors
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| 幸存者，残存者，生还者( survivor的名词复数 ) | |
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48
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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49
devoutly
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| adv.虔诚地，虔敬地，衷心地 | |
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50
sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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51
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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52
denser
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| adj. 不易看透的, 密集的, 浓厚的, 愚钝的 | |
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53
larches
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| n.落叶松（木材）( larch的名词复数 ) | |
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54
numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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55
fend
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| v.照料（自己），（自己）谋生，挡开，避开 | |
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56
hawthorn
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| 山楂 | |
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57
toll
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| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
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58
holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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59
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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60
yews
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| n.紫杉( yew的名词复数 ) | |
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61
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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62
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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63
sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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64
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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65
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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66
crevices
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| n.（尤指岩石的）裂缝，缺口( crevice的名词复数 ) | |
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67
sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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68
lizards
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| n.蜥蜴( lizard的名词复数 ) | |
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69
larder
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| n.食物贮藏室，食品橱 | |
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70
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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71
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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72
denizens
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| n.居民，住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
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73
plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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74
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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75
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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76
robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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77
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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78
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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79
drowsily
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| adv.睡地，懒洋洋地，昏昏欲睡地 | |
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80
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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81
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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82
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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83
gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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84
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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85
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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86
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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87
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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89
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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90
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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91
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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92
petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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93
drowsiness
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| n.睡意；嗜睡 | |
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94
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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95
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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96
contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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97
motes
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| n.尘埃( mote的名词复数 )；斑点 | |
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98
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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99
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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100
ravenous
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| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
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101
scud
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| n.疾行；v.疾行 | |
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102
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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103
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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104
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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105
mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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106
beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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107
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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108
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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109
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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110
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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111
tingle
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| vi.感到刺痛，感到激动；n.刺痛，激动 | |
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112
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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113
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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114
whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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115
sprouting
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| v.发芽( sprout的现在分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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116
acorn
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| n.橡实，橡子 | |
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117
provender
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| n.刍草；秣料 | |
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118
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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119
morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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120
rummage
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| v./n.翻寻，仔细检查 | |
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121
aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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122
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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123
grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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124
croak
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| vi.嘎嘎叫，发牢骚 | |
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125
scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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126
scamper
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| v.奔跑，快跑 | |
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127
robins
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| n.知更鸟，鸫( robin的名词复数 )；（签名者不分先后，以避免受责的）圆形签名抗议书（或请愿书） | |
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128
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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129
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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130
ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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131
quarrying
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| v.采石；从采石场采得( quarry的现在分词 )；从（书本等中）努力发掘（资料等）；在采石场采石 | |
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132
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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133
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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134
unearthed
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| 出土的（考古） | |
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135
glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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136
tugs
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| n.猛拉( tug的名词复数 )；猛拖；拖船v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的第三人称单数 ) | |
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137
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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138
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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139
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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orbs
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| abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球，天体，圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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141
pounce
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| n.猛扑；v.猛扑，突然袭击，欣然同意 | |
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142
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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143
dispensed
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| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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144
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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146
clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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talons
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| n.（尤指猛禽的）爪( talon的名词复数 )；（如爪般的）手指；爪状物；锁簧尖状突出部 | |
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148
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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149
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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150
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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151
pertinacity
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| n.执拗，顽固 | |
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152
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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154
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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157
squeaks
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| n.短促的尖叫声，吱吱声( squeak的名词复数 )v.短促地尖叫( squeak的第三人称单数 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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158
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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159
lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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160
snugly
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| adv.紧贴地；贴身地；暖和舒适地；安适地 | |
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