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Squirrel meets George
By Scott Chisholm
Lamont.
Squirrel ran
through the brush and trees that bordered the railway siding,
hurrying towards one of his preferred storehouses. His mouth
filled with seed and his eyes filled with purpose, he none
the less paused from time to time to scan the area for dangers.
He never paused long. He looked left, right, up, and then
dashed off again. The surroundings were quite benign, as
most predators avoided the area claimed by humans for their
use, especially during the day. That was not to say that
the humans themselves were benign - Squirrel knew well that
he would fit nicely in a cookpot. Two of his sisters had
wound up as stew, teaching Squirrel to keep a sharp eye
out for humans carrying the long metal sticks they hunted
with.
The June day
was warm, but Squirrel knew that warmth was deceiving. Winter
was king in this high, rugged land. Summer was not so much
a season of its own as it was a break from the cold that
dominated all life here. Preparations must be made, never
time to waste. Besides, Squirrel liked to run.
Squirrel deposited
his load, and turned back on his trail. The sound of human
footfalls stopped him. He saw the red haired and bearded
man, dressed in a suit and wearing shiny leather shoes,
walking along the siding from one large wooden box to the
other. Squirrel recognized him as a recent arrival, mainly
because he didn't smell as bad as the other humans. The
man carried no stick and was obviously not hunting. Squirrel
chittered an alarm anyway, just to let the human know that
he was about as stealthy as a rockslide. The man kept walking.
Squirrel dashed up a tree right on the verge of the siding,
poked his head around the trunk to get a clear view of the
man, and alarmed again. This elicited no reaction. Now miffed,
Squirrel jumped a step further up the trunk, repeating his
cry.
"Mr. Howard!"
The voice came from the larger human that Squirrel had seen
often. He always wore a suit, and most of the other humans
deferred to him. Squirrel had determined that he was probably
highly ranked among this pack. "Mr. Howard, a moment
of your time, if you please."
The red haired
man immediately turned to the large one. "Yes, sir,"
he said as he hurried over to join his superior.
Squirrel was
furious! "How dare you ignore me," he yelled at
the departing human. "How dare you ignore me and yet
jump at the call of that tub of lard. I will remember you!"
***
Evening was falling.
Squirrel's sharp claws kept him securely in place on the
outer wall of the box, so that he could look in through
the tiny window. The light from the window revealed the
red haired man seated at a writing table, composing a letter.
Squirrel had kept track of the human for the past several
days when he was not busy with his own affairs. He found
humans difficult to understand at the best of times, but
this man had Squirrel baffled enough to lead him into risking
a dangerous level of exposure. He was far from cover, and
if one of the Coyote tribe happened by, he would be in serious
trouble.
The man concentrated
on his letter. He would pause from occasionally, but he
never looked up from the page. It finally struck Squirrel.
"I shall
need to speak to Raven about this," he muttered to
himself.
***
The next morning
was clear and warm. Raven was sunning herself on a boulder
in the middle of an open field. Raven held the respect of
all the residents of the valley, and many sought her wise
counsel. Once, she had told Squirrel about a time when the
humans were only infrequent visitors, never leaving much
of a mark on the land. Squirrel had found that hard to believe.
In his experience humans existed to leave marks on things,
but Raven was an elder. If she said it had been so, then
so it had been.
Squirrel approached
Raven, greeting her. Not bothering with pleasantries, he
went straight to the point of his visit.
"He never
looks up. He never looks out of a window. He doesn't even
look to see those who call at him. Are his ears no good,
or is his mind sick?" Squirrel's tail busily punctuated
his questions. "I mean, even Ant looks up to the mountains,
and she is much shorter than this human."
Raven, amused
by the brash young creature, cocked her head to one side.
"The red haired one, eh? No, I believe his ears are
fine. So is his mind, as far as humans go. Have you not
noticed that these humans try not to live in the real world?"
Squirrel thought
about that for a moment. "I do not understand,"
he said finally.
Raven nodded,
then spread her wings briefly in the sun and shuffled her
feet. "When you go back to your home, look at what
these humans do. They disassemble the real world, and build
their own to live in. They can not hear most things outside
their own realm. I think it is because they choose not to."
Raven turned towards the sound of a train whistle. "Most
of these humans will never belong here."
"Most is
not all," Squirrel stated.
"Most is
not all," Raven chuckled. "Some of the humans
I have seen step out of their world into the real one, even
if only briefly. I think that their hearts hear the voices
of the real world, and so they go where their ears can hear
the voices too. Perhaps more would listen to their hearts,
if they had a guide to help them."
Raven and Squirrel
sat a while, looking around the meadow, or up at the stone
peaks. Finally, Raven spoke again.
"Did you
know that he likes to fish?"
***
The morning
was very crisp. Faint traces of mist covered the ground
and hung around the waists of the mountains. Squirrel waited
where he had waited every morning, outside of the box in
which the man slept. The man emerged, and Squirrel noted
at once that he was dressed more warmly than usual, and
carried a basket and long stick. Squirrel followed him to
the latrine and waited for him to finish his business, then
followed him down to the river. The man worried over his
stick for a while, then cast a long hair from the end into
the water.
Squirrel looked
over his shoulder to check his timing. He began to chatter
as loud as he possibly could.
George looked
up from his line finally, wondering what had prompted this
outburst on such a peaceful morning. At that moment, the
sun came far enough over the unseen horizon to cast the
first of its brilliant rays on the highest peaks, changing
the morning alpenglow to mesmerising golds, bronzes and
coppers, setting mist and cloud glowing and lightening the
sky to a flawless Alberta blue. Squirrel shut up as soon
as he noticed the man looking up and about him, forgetting
the stick in his hand.
When Squirrel
saw wonder in the human's eyes, he impetuously called out:
"It's about time you took a look around, you silly
man!"
The man scanned
the trees to the east. He would have never seen Squirrel
with the light in his eyes, if it were not for Squirrel's
nervously flicking tail.
"Good morning,
Mr. Squirrel," he said.
"A good
morning indeed, Mr. Howard," Squirrel relied.
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