The little girl squirrel always did this when she called on Mrs. Whitey, so the squirrel lady would know it was one of her little friends or relations, and not a bad owl, or hawk-bird, wanting to eat her up.
Slicko expected to hear her aunt chatter, as she always did:
“Come in and have some nuts!”
But there was no answer.
Slicko knocked again with her little paw, and then, thinking her aunt might be asleep, the little jumping squirrel gave a little hop down inside the nest. It was just like the nest at home, which she and the others had left because of the danger from the hunter-man.
At first, coming in the dark nest, after having been out in the bright sunlight, Slicko could see nothing. Just as when you come into the house, after having walked along the snowy road from school, you have to wait until your eyes get used to the darker house. It was that way with Slicko.
Pretty soon, however, she could look about the nest, and then her heart grew sad. For she saw that Aunt Whitey did not live there any more. The nest was deserted, and empty. Most of the soft leaves, and the cotton from the milkweed plant had been tossed out. The nest was all upset. Most of the nuts were gone, and it looked as though some boy, or man, or animal had been inside, catching the squirrel lady, and taking the nuts she had stored away to eat.
“Oh, dear!” thought Slicko. “This is terrible! Aunt Whitey has either run away, or been caught. There is no one here to take me! What shall I do? Can I stay here all alone? Oh, dear! Isn’t it too bad!”
Slicko cowered down in the empty nest and wondered what she should do, now that she had no home to go back to.