Green Forest Stories - Thornton W. Burgess (sad books to read .TXT) 📗

it while Mother Bear was around. So he waited, hoping that she would leave them alone for a few minutes. Finally Mother Bear set the twins to climbing a tree. It was then that Chatterer became so very indignant. His sharp eyes snapped as he watched the twins scramble up that tree. He hoped they would fall. Yes, sir, Chatterer really hoped those twin cubs would fall.

You see, the trouble was that Chatterer didn’t like the idea of those little Bears learning to climb trees. He felt that the trees belonged to the Squirrel family. It was bad enough to have Bobby Coon and Unc’ Billy Possum climbing them. Now to have two lively little Bears learning to climb was too much. It was altogether too much.

“They haven’t any business in trees,” sputtered Chatterer to himself, taking care not to be heard. “They haven’t any business in trees. They belong on the ground, not in trees. I won’t have them in the trees! I won’t! I won’t!”

Now of course Chatterer knew, right down in his heart, that those cubs had just as much right in the trees as had he.

The real truth of the matter was that so long as those little cubs remained on the ground, Chatterer feared them not at all. He could be as saucy and impudent to them as he pleased. He could tease them and try to scare them and feel quite safe about it, so long as their mother wasn’t about. But if those cubs were going to learn to climb, and he had a feeling that they would make very good climbers, matters might be altogether different.

Chatterer watched the twins and he watched Mother Bear. At last the latter disappeared from sight. Unseen by the twins, Chatterer leaped across to the very tree in which they were sitting, but above them. “I’ll give them such a scare that they will either fall down or will scramble down and never’ll want to climb another tree,” muttered Chatterer.

Silently he crept up behind them; then he opened his mouth and yelled at them. “Get down out of this tree!” he yelled. “Get down out of this tree!”

He was so close to those little Bears that his voice seemed to be in their very ears. They recognized it as a voice which had scared them two or three times when they had first come out of the great windfall to play. It was so close and so unexpected that it startled them so that they almost let go their hold. Then Boxer turned and for the first time had a good view of Chatterer. He was looking at a very angry Red Squirrel. But instead of being afraid and starting to scramble down from that tree, as Chatterer had expected him to do, Boxer suddenly started straight for him, and it was plain to see that Boxer was an angry small Bear.

VIII Too Late Chatterer Is Sorry

Of yourself to hold command
Keep your temper well in hand.

Mother Bear

The best laid plans, even those of the smartest of Red Squirrels, sometimes go wrong. Chatterer’s plan had gone wrong, just about as wrong as it could go. Those provoking twins, instead of being scared into falling or scrambling down from that tree, had been made angry and actually were starting after him. Boxer started first and Woof-Woof promptly followed. You know whatever Boxer did, Woof-Woof did.

Now Chatterer hadn’t reckoned on any such thing as this happening. Not at all. And like most people who try to scare babies, Chatterer is not at all brave. Most of his bravery is in his tongue. For just an instant he was too surprised to move. Even his tongue was still. Then he turned and ran up that tree as fast as he could.

The twins came scrambling after, and they came surprisingly fast. You see, there were plenty of branches to hold on to, so they had no fear of falling. Chatterer was so scared that he didn’t use those usually quick wits of his, and he ran up past the only branch of that tree that reached out near enough to another tree for him to jump across. When he thought of it, it was too late. Yes, sir, it was too late. Boxer was already standing on that very branch.

Chatterer felt then that he was trapped. He couldn’t jump across to another tree. He didn’t dare try to get down past those twins. He wouldn’t think of jumping down to the ground, unless he was actually obliged to, for it was a dreadful jump. All he could do was to climb higher and hope those twins would be afraid to follow him.

But by this time Boxer and Woof-Woof were enjoying the chase. They were enjoying the fun of climbing, and they were enjoying the discovery that they were no longer afraid of this saucy, red-coated scamp, but that he was afraid of them.

“See him run!” cried Boxer. “Come on, Woof-Woof, let’s catch him! He is so small and quick that he can get about faster than we can, but we are two and he is only one. Between us we ought to be able to catch him.”

Woof-Woof was quite willing, and they climbed on up after Chatterer. Chatterer’s tongue was still now. He made no sound. He no longer called names. He no longer made faces. He no longer looked saucy or impudent. He looked exactly what he was, a badly scared Red Squirrel. He was sorry now that he had lost his temper and tried to scare those twins. He was very, very sorry. But it was too late. Being sorry didn’t help him any now.

He was in a bad scrape, was Chatterer, and he knew it. Either of those twin Bears was much bigger than he, although they were little more than babies. They had found him out and had already discovered that they had nothing to fear from him and that he was