‘All right,’ said Mr Eigleen.
Accordingly, after lunch all three started off on a fresh quest. They searched the little glade high and low once more, but with the same ill luck. Really Eepersip saw them all the time, but while they were here she was there, and while they were there she was here, all the time keeping out of sight behind bushes and trees. And when she rustled the leaves and they heard her, they thought that it was just the breezes making commotion in the leaves and grass.
Before they had hunted very long Mrs Eigleen had to admit that the new game was harder than it looked; yet she didn’t give it up, for her greatest hope was to have Eepersip back again. At length Eepersip lost sight of them and, thinking that they had gone, she began to sing. They all started, and began to run in the direction of the voice. This time they didn’t hesitate to go right up the steep slope of Eiki-ennern Peak. Mrs Eigleen leading, they all three dashed up, with not a thought of the brambles that they were getting into.
When they got to the top, what a sight met their puzzled eyes! There was Eepersip dancing to her own singing, and ever and again she looked up at a little butterfly which fluttered over her head, and curtseyed before it. Great waves of happiness were flowing through her all the time. They made no effort to call her, but only stood enchanted until she danced off to the field. Then they quickly walked away. First they went back to their own little cottage and collected some of the important belongings which they had left there. Next they went on to the Wraspanes’ house and got the tent and other necessary things. Then, with the Ikkisfields and the Wraspanes, they started off for the top of Eiki-ennern Peak.
They pitched the tent rather far from the pool, but very near where they had seen Eepersip, on top of the hill. Now the next problem was to make the plans; and as soon as the tent was up they gathered together and began to think up ways and means. But Mr Eigleen said: ‘Let us go on an exploration and discover some of Eepersip’s habits. Let us all wander around a while, and when we discover what sort of habits Eepersip has got into, we can make our plans accordingly; for we can’t make plans until we do know some of her habits.’
All approved of what he had said, and everybody prepared himself for a long walk, interrupted at times by hiding and lurking, peeping and sneaking. So each person had a bite to eat and set off to explore the surroundings. They hunted high and low, but never saw a sign of Eepersip – never had a chance to peep and sneak. That evening, however, while they were talking things over, they heard another burst of singing. They leaped to their feet and, taking a big lantern, all started out of the tent. In the direction of the singing they went on, trying to walk rather fast, but also trying not to step on many leaves or dry twigs so as to make a noise; and when they talked it was in the softest whisper. The singing sounded nearer and nearer, but they could not see very well without the lantern (which they didn’t light yet for fear of frightening Eepersip away); it was darkening rapidly, and things were very dim. At last the singing grew so loud and so near that they felt almost as if they were about to run into it. And so they actually did; for Eepersip, who had all the time been approaching them as they approached her, went right between the Ikkisfields, startling them so that they didn’t know what to do! Mr Ikkisfield managed to put out his hand and grab her dress, calling for someone to come and help him hold her. But by this time Eepersip had discarded her real dress and had woven one of ferns for herself; and, the ferns being interlaced rather loosely, the one Mr Ikkisfield caught hold of tore away. Quick as a flash, Eepersip bounded away into the night. Thus their first chance of catching her slipped between their fingers. They went back to the tent rather discouraged.
Now the deer in the great field knew Eepersip, and they all loved her, because she was so kind to them. Even the little fawns loved her and made no attempt to run away when she appeared. Twilight and dawn, when the deer were all lying down, were her favourite times in the field. Then she would dance about in her fern dress, singing so sweetly that all the birds watched her. She began to love the birds and butterflies even more than in the first days of her wildness, and almost worshipped them.
The morning after this curious face-to-face meeting with Eepersip, Mr Eigleen spoke about another plan. ‘Eepersip every morning comes up from wherever she sleeps to get a drink of water from the little pool. Now do you know that big pine tree that stands beside the pool?’
‘Yes,’ said Mrs Eigleen.
‘Well, I will go and hide behind that tree tomorrow morning, and when she comes up to the pool I will try to catch her by jumping out at her when she comes by.’
‘Why do you not do it this morning?’ enquired Mrs Ikkisfield.
‘Well, you see,’ replied Mr Eigleen, ‘she has had her morning drink, for I saw her as I was getting out of bed.’
‘I see,’ said Mrs Ikkisfield. ‘But be sure that you get up in time next morning.’
‘I will,’ said Mr Eigleen. ‘But if you’re up and awake before I am, be sure to pull me by my left ear.’
Eepersip was becoming more wary, now she had discovered that they were trying to catch her. But still she took it as a sort of joke. In the first place, she thought she could easily escape again if they did catch her. But she very much doubted if they could do it. For hours every day she practised running, leaping, dancing and prowling, until she was as fleet as a deer and as soft on her feet as a lynx. She had practised leaping over high objects, and if someone were chasing her she could now escape being cornered by jumping a fence. She had trained herself until, even without a running start, she could clear the back of a standing fawn; or, with a start, a large buck standing full height. All these exercises made her light as a feather and graceful as a fern.
The next morning when Mr Eigleen woke up, there was hardly a ray of light, but dawn was breaking out here and there. Mr Eigleen got all ready for an exciting morning. Without waking anybody, he seated himself out in front of the tent, on the side next to the field, in such a position that he could see Eepersip when she came up, and where he could pull to the front flap immediately and bolt out the back way to the tree by the pool without her seeing him. He waited a few minutes, and then he saw her head bobbing up the bank. Hurriedly, he closed the front flap before she saw him. Slipping out the other end and round in a long curve, he ran at full speed to the pool and hid behind the big pine.
Now it was at the foot of the pine that Eepersip usually stooped over to drink, because there the water was deeper and clearer. When Eepersip came up the bank, she stared curiously at the tent, thinking: ‘What! Are my parents still here?’ Then on she went to the pool. She approached it in a roundabout direction, her face drawn with suspicion but, as usual, her route ended at the gnarled roots of the big pine – no instinct could draw her away from it.
Mr Eigleen stirred the leaves gently as she bent over. She lay down flat by the tree, cupped her hands and began to drink. Very quietly, Mr Eigleen put his hands on her, one on either shoulder, knowing that her dress of ferns would tear. She started, and struggled so violently that his hands relaxed their grip on her shoulders, sliding down her arms, so that they were now hand in hand. That was all Eepersip needed. With a tremendous sweep she took her feet off the ground, dragging down on his arms with all her weight and strength. Mr Eigleen couldn’t relax either of his hands, for she now held them fast. With another sweep she put her feet up on his shoulders and over his head; then, wrenching her own hands free, she slid down his back and slipped away before he could seize her.
When Mr Eigleen went home, everyone was surprised at this acrobatic adventure.
Mrs Eigleen made a plan now. ‘Sometime at midnight,’ she said, ‘we could take a covered lantern and go down on the meadow to try to find out where Eepersip sleeps. I know the meadow is very large, but common sense tells me that she would sleep near the woods; so, tomorrow night let’s go and try to find her.’
‘Er-er – I don’t know,’ replied Mr Eigleen. ‘I’m a little bit afraid of that meadow, such curious things ar
e happening there all the time.’
‘What has happened yet?’ snapped Mrs Eigleen. ‘You’re an old coward, you are. I’d go in a minute to save Eepersip.’
‘So’d I, so’d I,’ said Mr Eigleen hurriedly. ‘I only think that there is some curious magic about that field.’
‘I agree with you there,’ said Mrs Eigleen. ‘But, as I said before, when it comes to saving Eepersip I’d go into thicker magic than there is in the field.’
So they planned to get up a little after midnight and circle the field near the edge of the woods; and as there were six of them, Eepersip wouldn’t have much chance of escaping if they once got their hands on her. That evening they ate a light supper and went to bed early, and about one o’clock they got up and went out into the great field with a hooded lantern. They circled around it; and at last they found Eepersip hidden in the bushes on the farther edge. Very gently, all six laid hands upon her at once.
‘Ah, we’ve captured her!’ they cried triumphantly. ‘Our labours have been rewarded!’
But Eepersip, finding herself caught, became angry, and cried in a loud, commanding voice: ‘Put me down! Drop me immediately!’ She added quietly to herself: ‘Now it’s all over.’
Then she began to struggle very violently indeed. They had hold of her securely and so her struggles were in vain. But just as they carried her past a sleeping doe which had no fawn, she uttered a shrill, wild cry; and this so startled the six that they almost dropped her. The doe woke up; and though she was afraid for herself, she was more afraid for Eepersip. She came galloping after them.
To see the doe galloping swiftly towards them naturally startled old Mrs Ikkisfield, who supposed that wild animals would flee at the sight of a human being. That was so generally – but not when Eepersip was in danger! Now, Mrs Ikkisfield had hold of the most important part of Eepersip’s anatomy, though no one suspected it at the time – namely, her feet. Mrs Ikkisfield dropped them, and for the fraction of an instant which Eepersip needed they were allowed to touch the ground. Eepersip wrenched herself free and leaped to the back of the trembling, excited creature, and they bounded away quick as a flash. The others, agitated, turned to chase the doe; but she, with Eepersip on her back, had vanished.
‘Whew, that was a narrow escape!’ Eepersip whispered in one of the doe’s long ears, as they lay down together.
The next day it rained hard. Eepersip’s parents and their friends spent much time making plans for a day when they could go out. Mrs Ikkisfield now made a suggestion.
‘It is,’ she said, ‘very like the plan that we tried last night – namely, to find Eepersip while she is sleeping. But we must have more people, more people! If we can get some friends from the village at the foot of the mountain, they can drive the deer that we meet away from the people that are carrying Eepersip. In that way she cannot be saved by deer.’
‘That is true,’ said Mrs Eigleen, ‘but, you know, often an angry herd of deer is a terrible thing to drive back.’
‘I know that,’ said Mrs Ikkisfield. ‘But we might be able to keep them cool – keep them from getting angry. However, let’s make some other plans now. That is not a very good one.’
‘I was thinking,’ said Mrs Wraspane, ‘if we could only get Eepersip into a small fenced-in area where we could catch her. But I have it: let us find Eepersip in her sleep again and carry her to the tent in a roundabout route through the woods, chopping the bushes as we go, where there aren’t so many deer, and where it will be harder for them to rescue her.’
‘Great idea!’ cried Mrs Ikkisfield.
So that is what they all planned to do, the next sunny day.
While they had been conversing in this manner, Eepersip had been sitting in the woods, with a little fawn and its mother for company, and she had been feeding the fawn handfuls of grass and gazing into its gentle eyes. Late in the evening it cleared off and there were promises of a beautiful day tomorrow. And so it was. The sun began to rise slowly, producing wonderful colours – first the most delicate shades of apple-blossom pink, darker on the horizon, and shading off into a pale buttercup yellow. And Eepersip, as she awoke, saw that the meadow was dotted with dark forms which could just be distinguished – the deer were all lying down.
Eepersip skipped up to the pool to get her morning drink, first spying all around and especially behind every tree. No one was to be seen, for no one was up yet. Eepersip drank her fill; then she breakfasted on the sweet root of the little three-leaved plant with a white blossom, her usual food. After that she went down to the meadow, beginning to dance and sing as soon as she got there. The deer were now beginning to rise, and as she danced she kissed each one.
When the sun had dried the raindrops and the dew, the families started out to the great field to see what they could discover. The first thing they saw when they got to the edge of the slope was Eepersip skipping around. Then they saw her dance off to the woods and gather some long green branches and blossoms. Very soon she came back to the field, went over to a sleeping doe and crowned her with the branches; upon which the doe got up and licked Eepersip’s cheek. She danced about in her delight. She was so beautiful, so graceful, that when her parents saw her they were amazed at the way in which her dancing and leaping had improved.
Now, during the days in which Eepersip had been growing wild she had made friends with another chipmunk, who was even more fond of her than the one by the pool had been. The Eigleens and their friends now saw him scutter out of the woods and frolic around Eepersip. Last of all, they saw Eepersip lie down on the grass to gaze at the sky.
‘This would be a splendid opportunity for catching her,’ muttered Mr Ikkisfield to Mr Eigleen as they looked at her.
‘Hm! That’s just what I was thinking,’ whispered Mr Eigleen in reply. ‘Suppose we go out in the field and try.’
They all tiptoed down the slope and out into the field, where they immediately laid hands on Eepersip once more. She started violently and cried out to the doe who was near. The doe dashed up, but did not succeed in rescuing Eepersip, for Mrs Ikkisfield ran to hold her back.
‘Never mind Eepersip – Mr Eigleen and Mr Wraspane can do that. Hold back the deer!’ thundered Mrs Eigleen, a slow red rising to her face. They all flew at the poor creature, except the two who were holding the struggling Eepersip. Off fled the doe; and then the others could help with Eepersip. The doe ran on to get help from her mate. Back they came in no time, for a deer is one of the swiftest runners in the world. The buck flew at Eepersip’s captors – just too late, for the others had succeeded in getting Eepersip safely into the tent.
But what could they do with her? How could they keep her securely? And, even so, if she was going to continue acting wildly, how much better off were they with her? This was a new question, which no one had thought of. But they decided that, if they could keep her safely, she would become tamed and civilized again. The question of security was the most important just then. Better go home immediately and take Eepersip with them, later returning for their tent and their belongings. This they did, locking Eepersip in the house while they were getting their things; and as they went they rejoiced.
But now all the deer of the field, knowing that Eepersip, their beloved queen, had been taken from them, put their heads together. They intended to rescue her while her father and mother were sleeping, if they could only find where she had been taken. While they were lying down and thinking about it, a fawn came running up and poked its mother. It had followed softly, and knew just where Eepersip was kept. They all lay down to wait for the coming of night. At last evening came, and the deer fell asleep, leaving a night watchman to arouse them later when the full moon was at its zenith. When the watchman signalled, they arose and, with the little fawn leading, went down towards the Wraspanes’ house. Eepersip was allowed to sleep out on the porch, but all its glass doors were closed and locked against her. The fawn led them straight to this place.
Eepersip could not go to sleep; she sat on the floor, w
hining softly in her misery. One of the bucks knocked gently on the glass door with his antler. Eepersip turned; a smile crept over her face at the sight of her beloved comrades. The buck, as softly as he could, broke one of the glass doors, wood and all. Then the deer, all except the fawn, bounded off to the field again.
The sound of breaking glass reached the ears of Mr Ikkisfield, who was awake, all too late; for by the time he had wakened the others – which he did by shouting ‘Get up! Get up! Sounds like high doings out there!’ – Eepersip, on the little fawn’s back, had vanished towards the field. The families, when they got to the porch, found only the broken door. Though they heard trampling hoofs, they knew that it would be of no use to follow.
The families, after that adventure, were desperate; and they decided not to make any more plans just then, for winter was coming on rapidly, but to stay at the house until the next summer.
As for Eepersip, well, she was mighty glad to have got away unhurt. Happy again, she was soon sound asleep in the woods on the edge of the field, cuddled up underneath the doe which had saved her before. She wasn’t sure how to get along through the winter safely, but she had had such a splendid summer that she knew it would be foolish to give up her wild life now. She could manage somehow.
And so she did. She found that her parents had left her own heavy winter coat in the place where they had once found her sleeping; and this would be very helpful to her, she thought. She was also glad to realize that her parents, much though they wanted to get her back, didn’t wish her to perish in the cold of winter. ‘They are nice people, after all,’ she thought to herself.
With the coat and the prospect of warmth, there came a delightful idea into her head. On the edge of the meadow there was an old dilapidated fox hole. It was very large already, and after about ten days of hard work Eepersip found that the passages could be made exactly large enough for her to crawl into. The earth was so loose and mouldy that it came away without difficulty. She crept down the tunnel a long way, digging as she went. Presently she came to a snug bedroom about five feet square and four and a half high, which was a little less than her own height. But she did not mind stooping, as long as she had this cunning room; besides, she could dig away the ceiling if she wanted to. The room was old and dirty, but Eepersip lined it entirely with grass. Digging around, in one corner she came upon a little packet made of leaves. Inside it were a few cordary-berry seeds. She wondered who had made this packet – who had lived in this burrow before her. A person, of that she was sure. These seeds had not by any means rotted; they were still as moist and sweet as ever, and Eepersip rejoiced to find them. Digging around some more, she discovered a small square block of wood. Lifting it up, she found great heaps of milkweed pods, kept from springing open by the pressure of the earth against them. She rejoiced in this too. There was enough of the milkweed to make a bed for herself. She covered the bed with her old dress, which she had kept all this time in case she should need it. Never was such a soft bed seen. In the burrow she also built several shelves of boards, and on these she heaped up more cordary berries and their seeds, which were just beginning to come.
The House Without Windows Page 3