“All right,” replied Tiny, cheerily.
With another farewell he turned north and ran as fast as he could. Two or three times he stopped to eat some delicious acorns and other food he found by the wayside, for Nature has bountifully provided for the squirrel race.
He might have reached home without any more dreadful encounters, had it not been for his curiosity. While resting on the lower branch of a beech tree, he saw an animal with soft, silky fur, fast asleep on the bough above his head. He did not know that the pretty, innocent-looking creature was a wild cat, one of the most terrible beasts of the wood. The thoughtless squirrel stole noiselessly to the side of the sleeping animal and made a shrill, screeching noise.
HE RAN WITH ALL HIS MIGHT ALONG THE PATH.
The wild cat awoke. Instantly it changed to a ferocious monster, with ruffled fur and eyes that seemed to shoot forth flames. With a snarl of rage, it dashed at its disturber. Tiny, whose heart beat wildly, dashed down the tree. Instead of seeking refuge in some knothole, he ran with all his might along the path. He expected to be killed at any moment. Horror made him run all the faster, for he knew that the wild cat was the most dreadful animal he could possibly arouse.
Over fallen twigs and branches the frightened squirrel leapt, little thinking of other dangers that might befall him. At last his strength began to fail. He knew that he could hold out but a few minutes longer. Torn by brush and briers, he ascended an oak tree. A little door stood ajar. He rushed through the tiny opening and fell prostrate.
When he regained his senses, a little gray animal with liquid dark eyes was bending over him.
“Bushy Graysquirrel!” he cried in delight.
“I am very glad to receive you in my new home,” was Bushy’s welcome greeting.