The Chipmunks looked at each other, half made up their minds to take Buddy at his word, ran part of the way down, and then ran back to the sheltering brown leaves again.
Buddy sat very still, until, making up their minds to have those nuts anyway, the timid, beautiful little animals ran down the trunk of the tree head first and jumped right in the middle of the blanket full of beech-nuts.
They paid no attention at all to Buddy, but went busily to work, filling their pockets full of nuts, selecting only the full-meated ones, and as fast as their pockets were full, running away, and hurrying back for more.
"You must live near here," said Buddy. "We do," said one little fellow, "That's why we needed the nuts on this tree, so we should not have to make such long trips home and back."
"I've always wanted to know," said Buddy, "what you do with the dirt that you take out of your burrows." Little Chipmunk started to speak, but his mouth was too full. "Chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck," warned his mother, "don't talk so much, children, and work faster."
"All right, little old lady," said Buddy, "keep your secrets. Goodbye! I'm going to find another tree, and you may have this one."
"Bob," said Buddy, when they were walking home, "do the Chipmunks sleep all winter, like the bears and the wood-chucks?"
"'Deed they do not," said Old Bob the gardener, "they couldn't keep still that long. They're too restless, and they like to know too well what is going on in the world."
"Cunning little things, aren't they?" said Buddy. "Yes, they are," said Old Bob the gardener, "and they talk a lot without saying much."