Minnie; or, The Little Woman Part 4

But now the snores seemed changing to sounds more like the purring of a cat. Were not tigers a kind of cat? Suppose this were a tiger, ready to spring down and seize her in his great paws, as a cat might seize a mouse!

No; there came next a loud, rough laugh, startling to hear in the silence; and then a great flutter, and a scratching sound, and something alighted on the bough above her--something heavy, for the bough bent till its leaves were crushed upon her face.

As soon as Minnie could push the leaves apart she looked up, and saw to her dismay two great round eyes staring full at her! She covered her own eyes, and in her terror would have fallen from the tree, had not her dress been caught among the leaves.

"What's that? What's that?" a gruff voice called.

Then Minnie remembered what she had heard her mother, and even the little squirrels, say, that it is foolish to fear anything; so, as loudly as she could with her trembling voice, the little woman shouted:

"How do you do, sir? It's a fine evening, all but the cold!"

And, venturing to look once more, she saw what a curious animal she had addressed; with the eyes of a man, he had the face of a cat, and the bill and body of a bird.

"Who's here? who are you?" was his only answer.

"I am a traveller, sir. I have come from my home in the village, to make my friends, the squirrels, a visit; perhaps I shall have the pleasure of meeting you at their house."

"Not so fast! I'm an owl, I'd have you know, and do not keep company with chattering squirrels. If you wish to see me you must come to my own home."

"And where is that?"

"In the hollow around on the other side of the elm. We owls are satisfied to sit thinking over our wisdom, and do not go scrambling about like squirrels, and other simple creatures."

"How did you happen out to-night?"

"O, every evening I come up on this branch to take the air, and study astronomy."

"Astronomy?--what's that?"

"It is counting the stars, and telling how they move, and watching when they fall. I expect to catch one, some day."

"What shall you do then?"

"Hide it in my nest, to be sure, until I can plant the seeds, and raise another crop."

"Hide a star in an owl's nest! Why, the stars are worlds," laughed Minnie.

"O, that is what ignorant people say. This, that you see above your head, is a huge tree with dark leaves, and hung all over with golden oranges. When the stars seem to move, it is only the boughs that are waving; when the stars seem to fall, it is ripe fruit that drops to the earth. Let me catch one, and you'll see what a fine orange-bush I'll grow from the seed!"

"I'd sooner fly out, in the pleasant morning sunshine, and pick up strawberries, blueberries, checkerberries, all the nice things that grow in the wood," said Minnie; "but, if you can't be happy without the stars,--"

"I never can!" exclaimed the owl.

"Then I would fly up where they grow, and pick them myself from the boughs;--not sit in a dark hole, and wait for them to fall."

But the owl--who thought no one's opinion worth much, except his own--could not agree with her, and flew away.

Then Minnie, tired of talking so long, fell asleep once more, hoping, with all her heart, that she should awake in her little room at home, with Allie's rosy cheek pressed close to hers, and her mother stooping to give them both her morning kiss.

CHAPTER IX.

THE NEW HOME.

Cool air and pleasant music were about her, when Minnie awoke the next day, but no home. She was wrapped in a bundle of moss, on the elm-bough, still.

The bright morning sunshine lay over the leaves, fragrant odors came stealing out from the wood, and wreaths of beautiful white mist floated above the brook, and, slowly rising, reached, at last, and melted in with those other white clouds far up in the sky. Yet the lower end of the mist-wreath rested still upon the brook, so that it seemed like a long pearly pathway, joining the earth and heaven.

Many birds had their nests in the elm, and they were feeding and singing to their young; or, floating up in the sky, still kept a close watch over their little homes among the leaves.

Minnie found she had plenty of neighbors. The tree was like a town, filled with people of all colors, and sizes, and occupations. Of course, these were only birds or insects; but Minnie had grown so small that they looked monstrous to her. The birds were as large as herself, you remember. Little lady-bugs seemed as big as a rabbit does to us, and fire-flies were great street-lanterns; b.u.t.terflies' wings were like window-curtains; bees were like robins; and squirrels, as large as Newfoundland dogs!

As her friends did not come to bid her good-morning, the little girl thought she would go in search of them. She felt afraid to move, at first, but found soon that the bough was as wide for her small feet as a good road would be for larger ones; so, steadying herself now and then by help of a twig or leaf, she wandered on.

Sliding carefully down the slope of a bough, she found herself, at length, close by the entrance of the squirrel nest. Her friend, the young squirrel, was just sweeping the door-way with his bushy tail; but, when he took Minnie in to see his brothers and sisters, she did not find their home a very orderly place.

She could not step without treading on empty nut-sh.e.l.ls, bits of moss, or broken sticks; then the place was dark, and did not have a clean, sweet smell, like her mother's parlor. In one corner lay a heap of young squirrels, some so small you could put them into a nut-sh.e.l.l--others larger, and larger still. The nest was so cold and damp that the poor little things had crept together to keep warm.

Master Squirrel said, by way of excuse, that his mother was so busy, preparing for the party, she had not been able to set her house in order this morning; but Minnie never afterwards happened to go there when it was in better order than now.

"Where is your mother?" she asked.

"In the woods, at some of our other houses; for we squirrels don't live always in one place. She is gathering nuts and all kinds of goodies for our supper, and will scold me well if I have not the table set when she comes home."

"O, let me help you!"

Squirrel was glad to accept her offer, and they went to work in earnest.

First, Minnie insisted upon bringing all the young ones out into the sun, when they stretched out their little heads and paws to receive the pleasant warmth, while Minnie returned to see if anything could be done with their disorderly home.

She sent squirrel into the woods for some pine leaves, and of these made a broom as large as she could handle. Then she swept, and dusted, and brushed black cobwebs down, and wiped the mouldy walls, and put fresh leaves in place of the musty moss on which the children had laid.

By this time the old squirrel had come back from the woods again; and told what a beautiful place his wife had found for their feast, and how glad she would be of Minnie's help. He limped a little, and said his back ached still from carrying such a load the day before; but, as there was no other way for the little woman to reach the ground, she might go with him, only be sure not to pull his ears!

No sooner said than done. Down the trunk of the tall tree they went with a leap or two, and along the stone walls, over bushes, through hollows, further and further into the wood, till they came to a lovely spot.

CHAPTER X.

IN THE WOODS.

A number of trees stood so closely together that they seemed like a solid wood; but, when the squirrel had made a way for Minnie to pa.s.s under the heavy boughs, she found inside a circle, covered only with fine soft gra.s.s and moss, a few wild flowers nodding across it, and the leaves, with their low, pleasant rustle, closing around it like a wall.