“I am so glad that you have come back, my son!” she cried again and again. “Tell me all about your adventures, for you must have had many of them.”
HE PULLED THE HUNTING BAG INTO THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM AND OPENED IT.
“Let us first have some supper, for you must be almost starved,” said Tiny. He pulled the hunting bag into the middle of the room, and opened it.
“Oh, how tempting!” cried his mother, sniffing at the dried blackberries, and gazing hungrily at the acorns and pine cones. “I have had nothing to eat for two days.”
“Then let us have a good feast together,” said Tiny, with a merry laugh. “While we are eating I will tell you the story of my wanderings.”
“I shall eat while you are talking,” said Mrs. Redsquirrel.
“But first I should like to know whether Chatty Chipmunk is safe,” said Tiny anxiously.
“I don’t know,” replied Mrs. Redsquirrel, with a sigh. “Animals of the neighboring towns are doing all they can to assist our city in finding him, but so far they have had little encouragement. His poor mother is ill from anxiety. No one in the town suffers more than she.”