It was hard work bumping the sacks over the rough, uneven ground, but they got them home at last, safely conveyed to Sky Cottage, and emptied out on to the platform. They were all busily engaged within the hut, nailing sheets of moss over the wattled walls, when a curious squeaking noise began to attract Peggy's attention.
'What's that?' she inquired, pausing with the hammer suspended in her hand.
'A bird, most likely,' replied Lilian, with her mouth full of nails.
'No, it isn't,' said Peggy, going out to investigate. 'It seems to come from the moss at my feet. Archie, do come and look! Whatever can it be?'
The noise grew louder and louder, so that it resembled the squealing of a kitten, and all four began to turn over the moss with eager fingers, till, with a cry, Archie drew out a small round ball of dried grass, about the size of Bobby's fist, from which issued such crescendo squeaks that there could be no mistake as to the locality of the sound. The little ball was so beautifully made and so neatly rounded that there was not the slightest aperture to be seen, and Archie turned it over and over in his hand in some perplexity.
'What can it be?' cried Peggy.
'Do open it!' piped Bobby.
'Oh, do be careful! Suppose it's a viper!' shrieked Lilian.
'You goose! Vipers don't squeal, at any rate,' said Archie, whose friendship had reached a degree of intimacy that was distinctly brotherly; and gingerly pulling asunder the neatly-woven grass, he disclosed to view a plump yellow dormouse, whom they had evidently disturbed in his winter quarters.
The little fellow lay flat on his back in the midst of his snug little nest. He had not taken the trouble to open his eyes, but his paws were crossed, and his pink mouth was open, giving vent to loud disapproval of the bumpings to which he had been rudely subjected unawares.