The next day was the last of November. In the morning Eepersip, after a long sleep in the burrow, woke up to find the world white with the first snow. The entrance of the tunnel was placed at such an angle that never a flake found its way down in. Eepersip was delighted; she danced and skipped about, with the chipmunk at her heels.
The next day it stopped snowing, and the sun came out, shining dimly. Every snow crystal sparkled like a diamond. Eepersip and the chipmunk dashed across the meadow and looked far, far down. Though ordinary eyes could not have seen to the end of this mass of glittering whiteness, Eepersip’s could, and beyond all the icicles and snowflakes she saw the river calmly shining, blue as the sky. In its rippling surface Eepersip could see the very reflection of the sun breaking out through a cloud. The meadow was beautiful even when the sun was dim, but nothing to what it was now!
Eepersip could see every colour of the rainbow reflected in each crystal – orange, purple, green, blue, red and many, many iridescent tints. Full of joy, she looked down upon the river once more, through the glittering iridescence. The longer she looked, the better she could see the river. But at last the sun went in again; it had been out hardly long enough to melt one snowflake. Everywhere around Eepersip went the chipmunk’s little footprints, for he had shared her delight. At last, when Eepersip wanted to go back to her subterranean shelter, the chipmunk hung back and whimpered. Eepersip saw that he wanted to stay and, knowing that he could find his way, she left him behind and went back to the burrow herself.
But he didn’t come back. She waited and waited and often called, but he did not appear. ‘What can have happened to my little friend?’ she thought. At last she set out to look for him, calling as she went. She looked in every crevice, to see whether something had frightened him and he had plunged into some hiding place. But she did not find him. At last, whistling and calling, she came near to where she had left him, on the edge of the meadow. Then what did she see in the snow but footprints – human footprints! Chippy’s little tracks had started back in the direction of the burrow, but the strange footprints came towards his and overtook them – and at that point his suddenly left off. Then she discovered the others going down the hill again. It was only too clear – Chippy had been captured!
Eepersip sat down in the snow and wept. But suddenly she straightened up and became herself again. Why not follow those footprints down the hill and get her Chippy back? With a hopeful heart she dashed down, following the tracks. But she came into a small village, where she was afraid of being caught. She could not go on; so she went back.
Another idea! Why not follow the footprints some night, when there were not so many people around, and when, even if there were, she would not be seen so easily? But there was the question of being able to see the footprints in the dark. No, that would be impossible: the only thing to do would be to wait. For what? Eepersip had not the slightest idea.
The name of the people who had captured the chipmunk was Brunio. Mr Brunio and his little twin daughters, Flitterveen and Caireen, had come up to the meadow with sleds and skis to slide. They had seen the chipmunk frolicking about, and had watched him impatiently.
‘How I would like that little animal for my own!’ said Flitterveen.
‘He looks cold and hungry, Father,’ said Caireen. ‘Here, I have some crackers in my pocket. Let us throw them to him and see if he will eat them.’
This they had done, and the chipmunk had been tempted. He had come up cautiously and nibbled at them. He loved Eepersip dearly. He had never received harm from one of those queer two-legged creatures. He trusted them. But, while he had been nibbling, Mr Brunio had sneaked up quietly and taken him. Thus he had been captured.
Eepersip was not able to free her little friend until the next spring. She had lived a rather lonely life without him through the winter, and one morning very early she decided to make a desperate attempt to rescue him. She went down the slope of the hill to the river, through grass wet with pearly dewdrops. She stole along the bank of the river, behind bushes as much as possible, so as not to be seen. Finally she came to a little wooden bridge, and across this she went. But from there she had no idea how to proceed. She looked all about her, bewildered, afraid among so many houses.
It was a heavenly morning. The sun rose and cast a sweet golden light over the earth. The grass sparkled as if with diamonds. A fresh spring breeze was blowing gently. Flowers grew here in the deep grass and myriads of butterflies came flocking. But Eepersip stood forlorn and discouraged.
Suddenly a faint squeaking came to her. She darted towards the sound. O Eepersip, beware – not too fast! The squeaking came from one side of a dark brown house. Eepersip saw a small wire cage, and in it her little brown Chippy. Mr Brunio had opened the squeaky door of the house and was coming out with Chippy’s food. Eepersip saw him and swerved aside into the shelter of a gigantic rose bush before he saw her – just in the nick of time. It seemed like a long wait, but after a while Mr Brunio went into the house again.
Looking cautiously about her, Eepersip tiptoed out, opened the door of the cage, seized Chippy and sped off. Thus he was rescued; and Eepersip was happy indeed! As for the Brunios, they were very much distressed when they found out that the chipmunk was gone. By spying, they discovered some of Eepersip’s strange habits. Then, early one morning, they took their little kitten – the twins had rather stupidly named her ‘White’, for her colour – up to the field where Eepersip had her home, let her go very near Eepersip’s burrow and then ran away quickly before the kitten could find them. Well, White didn’t care much for being left in the dewy grass, bewilderedly shaking first one paw, then another. But presently Eepersip came out of her burrow with Chippy. Seeing the patch of white, Eepersip thought the kitten was an exceptionally late bit of snow left on the grass. But no, it certainly had not been there the last time she had looked. And then she realized that it was altogether too late for any snow. Darting up to it, she found the little kitten, so snow-white, with the blue-grey eyes like little moonstones, gazing pitifully up at her. Because she thought the kitten had been a patch of snow, Eepersip named her Snowflake.
She took her, shivering with the wetness of the dew, into her burrow, and found, much to her surprise, that Chippy recognized her and sprang at her in great delight. The truth of the matter was that Chippy had often seen the kitten during his captivity, and had played many a happy game with her in his cage.
Caireen and Flitterveen had thought when they let the kitten go that Eepersip, seeing a new animal, would give them back Chippy. Not so! Eepersip would rather have two animals than one. Besides, she saw how dearly the two loved each other, and would not have parted them for anything now. The Brunios had been disappointed enough at losing Chippy – and now they had lost the kitten too!
It was now summer, and the Brunios – Mr Brunio, Caireen and Flitterveen – decided to climb Eiki-ennern Peak and try to get back their kitten. They wandered around a little while and at last came to a sunny place on the edge of the woods. It was a very grassy spot, all surrounded with blackberry bushes just blossoming. Near its edge was Chippy asleep, and in the middle was Snowflake washing herself and playing with the dry oak leaves that swirled about in the breeze. Snowflake started back a little at the sound of whispering voices, and then looked up. Eepersip was not there, for she had gone off to find some sweet bulbs and roots.
‘Come on, White, dear!’ called Caireen.
But Snowflake did not know her old name since Eepersip had changed it.
‘Here, Sugar Bowl!’ said Mr Brunio. (He had got rather used to calling her that, because she loved sugar and had a habit of pawing into the sugar bowl to get it.) This was a trifle more familiar, and she took a step forward.
‘That’s the way!’ said Flitterveen, encouraging her. ‘Come on!’
Snowflake took back the step.
They grew impatient; yet some of their calls were so encouraging that Snowflake could hardly resist creeping through the briars to their feet
. Pretty soon she touched Chippy with her nose. He awoke, yawned two or three times, and, when he saw the people there, instantly pattered off into the woods. Now Snowflake sat very still, in spite of all their coaxings, for she knew that help was coming. And she didn’t have long to wait, for in a moment Eepersip came running up with Chippy in her arms. With a beautiful leap she cleared the briars and, taking up Snowflake, cleared them again and vanished into the woods.
Life for Chippy and Snowflake was great fun during the time when Mr Brunio, sometimes with the twins, was coming up to the briar patch and trying to entice Snowflake away. In the afternoons, though the two little animals were glad to stay in the briar patch, Eepersip generally took them along with her when she went anywhere, for she thought that possibly Mr Brunio might come up with an axe to chop down the briars. In this Eepersip proved wise, for, about the third day that Mr Brunio and the children had been coming up Eiki-ennern Peak to rescue Snowflake, Mr Brunio did bring an axe. But this time Eepersip had taken the two little animals out with her; they had gone exploring, finding sweet roots and brilliant berries.
Eepersip spent that summer in continual fits of dancing, laughing and merriment. She had never before been so happy. Every day she felt as though she loved the animals, birds and butterflies – everything of Nature – more than the day before. She loved to see the same birds coming back this year. Above all she loved the delicate butterflies with wings of all colours. She would lie in the meadow for hours and watch what was happening. She could imagine miniature cities in the air, and saw little butterflies and birds constantly going and coming from them. There were cities on the ground, too, where orchestras of grasshoppers and crickets played in the grass.
She sometimes made up words for her melodies – little songs of Nature. She would sing them over and over, sometimes ringingly, sometimes in a murmur.
Buttercups are smiling
To see the butterflies
Feathering so softly,
Rainbowing the skies …
The wind is snowing butterflies,
Fairy golden showers;
Misty the air with dancing wings;
The sun is raining flowers.
She told the deer that she felt like a butterfly, and that the wind was snowing her when she danced. And then she gave them handfuls of lush grass.
At the end of that first winter Mrs Eigleen had begun to feel ill. No one knew what was the matter with her. She spent the spring in continual weeping and hysterics. Towards the summer she began to feel seriously ill. They had had several different doctors in to see her, but none of them could find out exactly what the matter was, for she refused to tell anyone anything, even though she said she herself knew. One afternoon she called her friends round her and bade them take her over to the meadow, where they would surely see Eepersip. They took her out, but never a trace of Eepersip did they see. And Mrs Eigleen kept on having her fits of weeping all through the summer, even more frequently than before.
Now, by this time Mrs Eigleen, her husband and all her neighbours had found out that Eepersip had taken White away from the Brunios; for once they had been out in the field and seen Eepersip. She was crowned with a wreath on which butterflies were clustering in bunches, like grapes, and Chippy and Snowflake were frolicking about her. The Eigleens, the Ikkisfields and the Wraspanes went down the meadow and to Mr Brunio’s house (for some of them knew the Brunios and recognized the kitten), and he related his adventures. That very afternoon they went back to the meadow and chased Eepersip, but they couldn’t catch her, for she took up Snowflake and Chippy and mounted a doe, who bore them off like the wind.
The next day, they tried again. It was dawn, and Eepersip was lying in the centre of the meadow with Snowflake and Chippy by her side. She had had her breakfast, but she lay on the grass watching the sun rise and send away the shadows to right and left, flushing the sky with delicate pink and yellow. The deer were still lying down. Eepersip heard a sound of voices talking, followed by a roar of laughter; and instantly, of course, she grew suspicious. She heard: ‘Mr Wraspane, will you come with me?’
‘Certainly, Mr Eigleen.’
‘Mrs Ikkisfield, you come with me. We are the ones that are not so skilled in slyness. We will go up on the hill and guard there.’
‘All right, Mrs Eigleen.’
As Eepersip lay there in the field, two men broke out of the woods right near where she was lying. She sprang to her feet, caught Chippy and Snowflake in her arms, and ran. Before she could snatch up the two little animals, Mr Eigleen was just able to seize her dress as she darted by him. But, of course, the fern that he caught hold of came out in his hand, and she ran along towards the hill – a foolish thing to do, for she had just heard that there were two people guarding it. Still, that was just about the only thing that she could do, for the other two, Mr Ikkisfield and Mrs Wraspane, had also come out of the woods and blocked her path.
Eepersip fled up on the hill and nearly ran into Mrs Eigleen and Mrs Ikkisfield. Mrs Eigleen caught hold of Snowflake’s tail, and Mrs Ikkisfield stepped in front of Eepersip, who dodged desperately to one side, releasing her hold on the kitten to prevent its being injured.
But Eepersip was not going to give up her pet just yet. She sped down the hill, knowing that the others would soon be going to give the kitten back to the Brunios. Through the big field she ran, with Chippy clinging to her hair – down the other side of the slope to the river, along its banks, across the small bridge ’way down and back to Mr Brunio’s house on the other side.
Eepersip looked all about her for some place of concealment. No one was in sight. Along the side of the house there was a forest of blackberry bushes, which extended several yards and was unusually dense and towering. The luscious black-and-purple fruit was ripening, making it look even more sheltering and mysterious. This patch was also in such a position that it had to be passed to reach the front door, which was really on the side of the house. Eepersip was pleased to find such a convenient place. She sampled the berries with satisfaction, always taking pains to see that no one was coming. Then she wriggled inside and waited.
Presently they all came along, Mrs Ikkisfield holding Snowflake. Eepersip had ready in her hand a little sharp-pointed stick. She pushed it through a tiny hole in Mrs Ikkisfield’s stocking. It hurt! Mrs Ikkisfield gave a little shriek of pain and dropped Snowflake, who instantly put her paw on a small fern which she saw – she couldn’t see Eepersip, but the fern was very familiar! – and was pulled by Eepersip into the bush. When the people saw that, they knew, of course, who was near.
Eepersip started to crawl through the bush and out the other side, but she heard Mr Eigleen whispering to the others to go around and stop her. While they were watching, Mr Brunio, who had joined them, went back into the house and fetched a net. It was woven of coarse, thick ropes, but the meshes were quite small enough to hold the kitten, and almost Chippy himself. (Mr Brunio had once been a fisherman; he had retired, but he still had many nets with meshes of various sizes.) They put this net over the bush and pegged it down firmly, driving the pegs with the head of an axe which Mr Brunio brought out. Then they retreated to a distance and watched.
Eepersip began working at the pegs, and the chipmunk and the kitten to dig at the base of each so that she might be able to pull them up more easily. The pegs were really too big for Eepersip’s little hands to manage comfortably, but she didn’t think of comfort in such danger as this, and she worked boldly at the pegs with her nimble fingers. After she had got two or three up, the Eigleens and their friends came forward, took those pegs and put them down more firmly than before, so that Eepersip had to begin all over.
Although the people who were trying to capture Eepersip and the kitten were naturally becoming very hungry, they didn’t like to leave the bush unguarded. But Mr Brunio (who was exceptionally hungry) said that he had many more such nets, and that they could spread them all over the bush and hurriedly get luncheon. If they put them down very firmly, and ate rat
her fast, there wouldn’t be much chance of Eepersip’s escaping before they could get out again. So they spread four more nets over the bush and went in.
Now was Eepersip’s chance, and she worked harder than ever. At last, with the aid of Chippy and Snowflake, who helped a lot by digging around the pegs, Eepersip got out of the first net and began tugging at the second. She didn’t try to dig up the pegs of this one: instead, all three tried to dig under it, and at last they had made a hole large enough for Eepersip to crawl through. The fibres of the third net were rather rotten, so that Eepersip tore it easily. Each peg of the fourth and fifth nets came up at one mighty yank; Mr Brunio and his helpers had put the last nets down in a great hurry, in order to get their luncheon. Then Eepersip, with the two little animals, fled from that dread place, across the bridge and back to the meadow, where she found a sheltered spot and slept.
The House Without Windows Page 4