The box was in the same place yet, and poor Fuzzy Wuz could be heard moaning feebly inside it.
“Courage, my darling!” cried the mother, “I have come to save you.”
First she tried to move the box, but it was too heavy for her to stir. Then she began scratching away the earth at its edge, only to find that it had been placed upon a big, flat stone, to prevent a rabbit from burrowing out.
“fuzzy crept under the box.”
This discovery almost drove her frantic, until she noticed Chatter Chuk, who stood trembling near by.
“Here!” she called; “it was you who led my child into trouble. Now you must get her out.”
“How?” asked the red squirrel.
“Gnaw a hole in that box—quick! Gnaw faster than you ever did before in your life. See! the box is thinnest at this side. Set to work at once, Chatter Chuk!”
The red squirrel obeyed. The idea of saving his friend was as welcome to him as it was to the distracted mother. He was young, and his teeth were as sharp as needles. So he started at the lower edge and chewed the wood with all his strength and skill, and at every bite the splinters came away.