Johnnie and Billie Bushytail Page 4

  “No, thank you,” said grandpa. “I have a better plan than that. I will gnaw a hole in the bottom of the post, and all the nuts will roll out. I should have done that at first.” Then the squirrels gnawed a hole, out came the nuts, and they had as many as they wanted, and the snake helped carry the nuts home. Would you like me to tell you, to-morrow night, how Johnnie and Billie went sailing?

  XIII

  JOHNNIE AND BILLIE GO A-SAILING

  YOU can all imagine how glad Grandma Lightfoot was when grandpa came back with Billie and Johnnie and Jennie Chipmunk, after the snake had pulled the old gentleman squirrel up from the hollow gate post. And, of course, she was also glad that they brought some nuts with them, for she was hungry, and there had been nothing in the house to cook. Just think how hard it would be to get along without anything to cook--even harder than when everything is so expensive, as it is now.

  Well, after Grandpa Lightfoot had found the nuts it wasn't so bad, and Johnnie and Billie Bushytail felt better. So did Jennie Chipmunk, and she laughed so much when she was washing the dishes that the boy squirrels thought she had been reading a funny story, but she hadn't, at all.

  “What shall we do, Johnnie?” asked Billie one day when they were out in the woods, about a week after they had found Grandpa Lightfoot in the hollow gate post.

  “I don't know,” answered Johnnie.'' “Let's play tag. You are it!” he cried, as he ran up and touched his brother, and then scrambled up a big tree.

  “Ah, tag's no fun,” said Billie, who didn't want to run after his brother.

  “Well, let's wait until Jennie gets through the sweeping, and we can play hide the acorn, or blind-squirrel-buff. I'll be it.”

  “That's no fun, either. Those are girls' games.”

  “Well, what do you want to do, then?”

  “Oh, I don't know. Let's pretend----”

  But just then the little squirrel boys heard--now what do you think they did hear? Well, I'm just as sure as if I had a four-cent piece in my pocket that you could never guess, so I'm going to tell you. It was a voice singing, yes, children, a voice singing a funny little song, and this is the way it went, if you can get some one to sing it for you: I love to hear the wild winds blow, And see the billows heaving, This woodland life's too tame for me, I shortly will be leaving. I'm going to fly far, far away Across the bounding ocean, The woods and trees for those who please, A sailor's life's my notion.

  “Who was that?” cried Billie

  “I don't know,” answered his brother, and they both looked up, and they both looked down, and then right out of a tree flew a big bird.

  “It was me,” the bird said, just like that, and not a bit different, honestly.

  “Who are you?” asked Billie.

  “I'm a seagull,” replied the bird. “I just came ashore for a little trip, but I'm going right back to sea again. I don't like life on shore. Was either of you ever a sailor?” the seagull asked, and it walked out on a limb with a rolling, heaving motion, just like a sailor on a sloping deck.

  “No,” said Johnnie, “we were never sailors.”

  “Indeed,” went on the seagull, “then it's high time you learned, my dears.”

  “But there's nothing to sail on,” objected Johnnie. “You have to have an ocean to be a sailor, and there's no ocean in the woods, Besides we are used to living on land.”

  “That's no objection; none at all, I do assure you,” spoke the seagull. “I see a little pond of water over there,” and he pointed a webbed foot toward it. “Now a piece of bark will do for a boat. Some ships are called barks, you know, so that makes it all right. Of course, you can't be salt water sailors on fresh water, but that can't be helped. Here, now, you have everything-- water, a boat and some one to teach you. You can become sailors in a minute,” and the seagull threw down some pieces of bark that he pulled off with his sharp beak. The bark was shaped just like little boats.

  “But we have no sails,” objected Billie. “We can't sail without sails.”

  “No more you can,” said the seagull. “I hadn't thought of that. ``Ah,” the bird exclaimed suddenly. “I have it--your tails! They are big and bushy and if you sit down and hold them up they will catch the wind fine. I read that in a book, but I had forgotten it for the time being. Now, get on your barks and sail away, and you'll be sailors sure this day.”

  So Billie and Johnnie carried their barks down to the edge of the small pond. Then they got on the little boats, and hoisted their tail-sails, or their sail-tails, whichever way you choose, and away they went over the pond, as nice as nice could be. They were so delighted with the new sport that they kept at it and almost forgot to go home for dinner. They had races, and once Billie nearly fell overboard, which made the seagull laugh. Then the bird flew away, singing his funny little song, and pretty soon Jennie Chipmunk came to tell Johnnie and Billie to come home. And, oh, I almost forgot, to-morrow night you shall hear how they were shipwrecked.

  XIV

  JOHNNIE AND BILLIE ARE SHIPWRECKED

  “NOW where are you going, boys?” asked Grandpa Lightfoot, as Billie and Johnnie Bushytail started from the nest one morning.

  “We are going to the pond to play at being sailors, the way the sea-gull taught us,” answered Johnnie. “May we go, grandpa?”

  “Hum, well, ahem! Let me see,” replied the old gentleman squirrel, and he looked over the tops of his glasses, right straight at those boy squirrels, until they began to be afraid they couldn't go. “Will you be very careful?” asked grandpa.

  “Yes, sir,” they both exclaimed at once, just as quick as quick could be.

  “Hum, ha--Ahem. Well, since you have learned to jump and dodge behind trees, and climb quickly and crack hard nuts with your teeth, perhaps sailing will be a useful thing to know. Yes, you may go.”

  “I wish they'd take Jennie Chipmunk with them,” remarked Grandma Lightfoot, who was greasing the pans to make a hickory nut cake. “That child has worked so hard she deserves a holiday.”

  “Aw, we don't want--” began Billie, but his grandpa looked over the tops of his glasses at him so quickly that Billie changed what he was going to say and Johnnie finished it for him. You see Billie was afraid to object, for fear he couldn't go.''

  “Yes, Jennie can come,” finished Johnnie “We will teach her how to sail.”

  “That will be nice,” said Jennie, and she laughed so that she showed all her pretty, white teeth.

  So the two little squirrel boys and the orphan chipmunk girl, who washed the dishes and swept out the nest, went on through the woods until they came to the pond. Then Johnnie and Billie showed Jennie how to sit on her boat, with the tail in the air for a sail. They all got on strips of bark, Johnnie on a big piece, Billie on a piece that wasn't quite so large, and Jennie Chipmunk on a real, small, tiny, little piece of bark; just like the three bears, you know. Then, as they started off Billie began to sing, and he sang: I love to hear the woodlands bound, And see the flying winds blow.

  “That isn't right!” called his brother.

  “Why isn't it?” asked Billie.

  “Because it isn't. That's not the way the seagull sang it. Besides, you can't hear woodlands bound, nor see wind blowing.”

  “Well, maybe I got it wrong,” admitted Billie. “When that bird comes back I'm going to learn it. Come on, let's have a race. My ship will beat yours, Jennie.”

  Then they all stuck their tails up in the air as far as they would go, and the wind blew, and they sailed, and they sailed, and they sailed. Right across the little pond they went, and toward a little island that was in the middle.

  Then, all at once, just as quick as you can put coal on the fire, something happened. There came a strong puff of wind, and Jennie Chipmunk's ship blew over, and she fell right in the water.

  “Oh, save me! Save me!” she cried, and she was so frightened that she forgot to smile. Besides, if she had smiled her mouth would have gotten full of water, so it was a good thing she didn't smile, I think, don't you
?''

  “Get on my boat, quick!” called Johnnie. “It's large enough to hold you. Hurry!” and he steered his piece of bark over to her. Jennie scrambled up, and then--well, I'm almost afraid to tell you for fear you'll worry about it, but I can't help it, anyhow. What should happen next but that Billie's boat tipped over, and there he was in the water.

  “Save me! Save me!” he cried, just like Jennie.

  “Come on, get in my boat!” shouted Johnnie as quick as you can blow out a match on a dark night. So Johnnie helped pull Billie up on his boat, and there they all three were on the one piece of bark, and I guess you're glad it was large enough; now, aren't you? Well, they all three held up their tails, and the wind blew them along, and then, would you believe me, what happened but the breeze got so strong that it tipped that piece of bark over and there they all were floundering about in the water and no other boat near at hand to save them. Oh, how awfully wet and frightened they were, and, you know, it's quite serious to be wet and frightened at the same time.

  “Swim for the island! Swim for the island!” cried Johnnie, and, sure enough, they all did, for it was not very far off. They crawled out on the land, just as wet as when Kittie falls in the bathtub, and Billie said, with his teeth chattering: “Now, I s'pose we're shipwrecked, aren't we?” His brother said they were and so did Jennie Chipmunk, and the funny part of it is that they really were shipwrecked on a desert island. But I'm not going to leave them there like that; no, indeed, I'm not. You see, I have to stop this story right here, but if my typewriter is working, why, to-morrow night we'll see what happened.

  XV

  THE BUSHYTAILS ARE RESCUED

  WHERE did we leave off? Oh, I remember now. Billie and Johnnie Bushytail and Jennie Chipmunk were shipwrecked on a desert island, weren't they? Well, they were very unhappy, indeed, all wet through; but then, you see, the sun and the wind, which, as it happened very luckily, was in the south that day, dried out their coats of fur. They were not like children, who, when they fall in the water, have to change everything they have on. The squirrels didn't have to change a thing.

  “Well,” asked Billie, when he was pretty dry, “how are we going to get off this island? We never can swim to shore, as it's too far. It's your fault, Johnnie, for wanting to come sailing; isn't it, Jennie?”

  “It is not,” declared Johnnie. “You wanted to sail as much as I did.”

  “Then it's Jennie's fault,” insisted Billie, who wanted to blame some one.

  “No, it isn't,” replied his brother, “It's the fault of the wind.”

  “Well, I knew it wasn't mine,” went on Billie. “But no matter about that; how are we going to get home? There are no trees here, to get bark from to make boats.”

  “No trees! I should say not!” exclaimed Johnnie. “This is a desert island; nothing grows here.”

  “How do you know it is a desert island?” asked Jennie, who was beginning to smile again. She was always curious, was Jennie.

  “I know,” answered Johnnie, “because there is nothing on it but a desert, and, besides, that's the only place you can be shipwrecked--on a desert island. It's in all the books.”

  “Don't tell me that!” cried a hoarse voice right close to them, and who should come hopping along but a frog. “Don't tell me it's in all the books,” he said. “Whenever I hear that it makes me shiver,” and, sure enough, the frog began to shiver.

  “Why does it make you shiver?” asked Billie.

  “What is your name?” inquired Johnnie at the same time.

  “I will answer you both at once,” spoke the frog. “My name is Bully, and the reason I shiver when I hear about something being in all the books is that once a blue heron told me that. He said it was in all the books that cranes, storks and herons ate frogs, mice and so forth. Then he tried to eat me, but I hopped away. Do you know Sammie and Susie Littletail?”

  “We have heard of them,” answered Jennie.

  “Well, they are great friends of mine,” went on the frog. “Sammie and I used to jump together. He knows about the blue heron. But how comes it that you are here?”

  “We are shipwrecked,” answered Johnnie. “Perhaps you can help us to get to the mainland from this desert island.” Then he told Bully the frog how it all happened, and he didn't leave out a single thing, not even about getting wet in the water.

  “Well, I can't carry you over, because I'm not big enough, or I would,” said Bully, the frog.

  “Must we stay here forever?” asked Jennie, and she stopped the smiling which she had started when she saw the frog.

  “No,” said Bully, as quick as a cat can wink her eye. “You won't have to stay here. I have thought of a plan. I must find a spider.”

  So they hunted around until they found a spider, though the squirrels couldn't imagine how that was going to help them. The spider was spinning her web, and when she saw the shipwrecked ones, and the frog, she asked them if they had seen any flies, as thee were very scarce on the desert island.

  “We will tell you where there are some if you will spin a long web to reach to the mainland,” said Bully.

  “What for?” asked the spider.

  “Well, then, Billie and Johnnie and Jennie can walk across it over the water.”

  “Oh, my goodness me and a bushel of elephants!” cried the spider, just as cross as could be. “I never could spin a web strong enough to hold up those boys. Perhaps Jennie Chipmunk could walk on it, but not Johnnie or Billie. Oh, my goodness me and a peck of monkeys! No, indeed.”

  “Maybe Jennie can cross over and get help,” suggested Billie.

  “No,” said Jennie, “I will not leave you on this desert island all alone.”

  “But we will have Bully and the spider for company,” said Johnnie. But that did not matter. Jennie would not go. Then the frog said he did not see what could be done, and they all felt pretty miserable, even the spider. When all at once who should come sailing along but Mrs. Quack-Quack. Who was she? Why, of course, I forgot to tell you; she was a lovely white duck. When she saw the shipwrecked ones she took them all upon her broad back, and before you could say the longest word in the dictionary she had them safely on the main shore. And, oh, how glad they were! Now what would you like to hear about to-morrow night, if you don't go sleigh-riding? How would a story do about Johnnie and Billie going to a picnic?

  XVI

  THE BUSHYTAILS AT A PICNIC

  PERHAPS you think it is rather early in the season to go on a picnic. Well, perhaps it would be for children, but you see, squirrels are different. They don't mind the cold a bit, for they have nice fur coats that they never have to take off. So, though winter had hardly gone, and though spring was a little late in arriving, Billie and Johnnie Bushytail and Jennie Chipmunk went to a picnic. Bully, the frog, had asked them.

  “If you would like to go to a picnic,” Bully said, “I know where there is going to be one.”

  “Where?” asked Johnnie.

  “Down by my pond,” answered Bully. “The ducks are going to have it, but that doesn't matter; you can come just as well as not.”

  “But we're afraid of water since we were shipwrecked,” remarked Jennie Chipmunk, who had just finished doing the dishes, and had hung the towels up to dry.

  “Oh, well, you don't need to go in the water,” said the frog. “The ducks will do that. They are used to it.”

  So Johnnie and Billie and Jennie asked Grandma and Grandpa Lightfoot if they might go to the picnic.

  “Yes,” grandpa said, “if you are careful not to take cold. A cold at this time of the year is very bad, indeed. Oh, my, yes, and a mustard plaster besides!”

  So they went to the picnic, Johnnie and Billie and Jennie Chipmunk, and they took their lunch in a basket Mrs. Wren made for them out of grass and straw. They had several kinds of nut sandwiches, some wild cherry tea and some soft maple-tree buds that were just swelling up.

  Through the woods they went, the two little boy- squirrels and the orphan chipmunk, laughing a
nd shouting and having a fine time. Pretty soon they came to the pond where the picnic was to be held. And oh, what a lot of ducks were there! There were big ducks and little ducks, and white ducks and gray ducks, and ducks of all colors. And Mrs. Quack-Quack was there, also. She came right up to Johnnie and Billie and asked them:

  “Well, are you all right since the shipwreck?”

  “Oh, yes, thank you so much for saving us,” spoke up Jennie, who was very polite indeed.

  “Well,” said Mrs. Quack-Quack, “the picnic is about to begin, so I must leave you, but I will see you again. We are to start off with a grand swim.”

  Then all the ducks formed in line on the pond, and they wobbled their tails, and wiggled their yellow legs, and opened their bills, and quacked until you would have thought something dreadful had happened. Around and around they swam until Johnnie and Billie were almost dizzy from watching them.

  “Don't they swim fine!” cried Jennie Chipmunk.

  “Pooh! That is nothing,” croaked Bully the frog. “Nothing at all. You should see me swim. I can swim under water.

  Just then one of the ducks put her head under water and stuck her tail up in the air, standing on her head, just like a man in the circus.

  ``There is a duck going to swim under water,” said Billie.

  “Oh my, no! She is only reaching down for a few snails to eat,” said Bully. “Watch me swim,” and with that in he plumped, and swam out of sight for ever so long.

  When he came up with his big eyes blinking, the grand swim was over, and all the ducks came out on land, walking as well as they could, which was not very fast. Then Mrs. Quack-Quack called out that it was time for dinner, and they all sat down and began to eat right off the ground; now, wasn't that rather odd? I thought so, myself. So Johnnie and Billie and Jennie took their nut sandwiches and maple-tree buds out of their basket, and they began to eat, too, and right in the middle of their lunch who should come along but Mrs. Spider-- the one who lived on the desert island.