Chapter XV: Flipwing Makes an Important Discovery

The circumstance that so much encouraged the bat Flipwing was the following: One morning, after an unusually tedious night had been spent in trying to discover some information concerning the missing Fluff, Flipwing had alighted on a tree in the depths of the wood, and clinging head downward to the rough bark had fallen instantly asleep.

The sun’s rays sifting through the forest trees did not wake the exhausted bat, and he slept soundly until the sun stood directly overhead. Then his heavy slumber changed to a lighter one, interspersed with dreams in which the scenes of the previous night were enacted. At last Flipwing dreamed that his diligent search was rewarded, and the fate of the lost squirrel decided.

So vivid was the dream that Flipwing could hardly believe it was not reality, and that he did not actually hear the voice of the little squirrel, when suddenly a particularly bright ray of sunlight fell on him, and he awoke.

At first so deep had been his slumber, and so very natural his dream, that the bat could not at once understand whether he were awake or asleep. He looked about him, however, and soon realized that he had been asleep on the tree where he had alighted a few hours before. The atmosphere of his dream hung about him, and he still seemed to hear the little squirrel’s high tones.

It was true that Flipwing _did_ hear a squirrel’s voice; but it was not the voice of Fluff, and in an instant the bat’s sharp senses were wide awake and on the alert. Three young squirrels were seated on a neighboring tree, so eager in conversation that they did not observe the small, dark outline of the bat clinging to the tree. Flossie and her two older brothers were talking together very eagerly, and after hearing a few words Flipwing did not allow a single sentence of the conversation to escape him.

“Do let me tell what became of him,” pleaded Flossie; “he may be alive, and waiting for us to release him.”

“Remember your promise, you little sneak!” answered her brother Bob; “you needn’t think you can go back on that.”

“Fluff wouldn’t have served you so, you know he wouldn’t,” said Flossie, earnestly. “He’d have come right into the hole and tried to get you out.”

“Well, we’re not quite so foolish as all that,” said Chippie, the other brother. “It wouldn’t have helped Fluff any to have us caught and eaten up too.”

“Oh dear!” exclaimed Flossie, “then you think poor Fluff is killed? Oh, how wicked we have been not to tell!”

“I don’t believe he’s killed,” replied Bob; “most likely he’s alive and well, and they’re only keeping him there in prison.”

“Then there’s all the more reason for our telling,” said Flossie. “Just think of his waiting for some one to come and help him, while we are such cowards we don’t dare tell what happened to him!”

“If you _do_ tell, Floss, ‘old Dead’ will get you sure, and I’ll call him,” threatened Bob, for Flossie was becoming so earnest that her brother felt extreme measures were needed.

“I don’t care for ‘old Dead’! You can call him, for all I care. I’m going to tell just where poor Fluff is,” and off started Flossie with more energy than she had ever before displayed.

So unexpected was their gentle little sister’s revolt that her brothers at first were too much astonished to move; but they recovered themselves before she had gone very far, and soon overtook her, handling her so roughly that the poor little creature gave a cry of pain.

“Let her alone! Do you hear?” called out a voice, sharply.

All three of the squirrels looked about them in astonishment; but not a trace of the speaker did they discover, and a horrible thought began to dawn in Chippie’s mind, that perhaps “old Dead,” on whose name they had so often called, had become tired of these appeals, and had at last come to call them to account.

“Let her alone, I say!” repeated the voice; “and stop where you are, or it will be the worse for you.”

Too terrified to move, the three young squirrels waited breathlessly for the possessor of the voice to disclose himself. In vain their eyes glanced anxiously about,--not a sign of any living creature did they discover.

“Look up here, on this oak-tree,” called out the same voice. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. All I want of you is to answer a question or two, and then you shall go.”

The squirrels looked as they were directed, and discovered the bat. The discovery was a great relief to them, particularly to Chippie, whose imagination had become quite active on the subject of “old Dead.”

“Now tell me where your brother is. I promise you that nobody shall harm you if you tell the truth.”

The two brothers were silent, and looked at each other inquiringly, as if they were deliberating whether they should tell all they knew. The bat was very quick to see what was going on in their minds.

“If you tell me all,” said Flipwing, “I will not betray you; but unless you do, I shall go at once to your parents and repeat to them the conversation I have overheard.”

Thus warned, Bob recited the same story he had repeated to his parents about Fluff’s sudden disappearance.

“You are not telling me the truth,” said Flipwing, severely; “remember, I overheard you just now when you thought yourselves alone.”

“I will tell you all about it,” said Flossie, boldly. “Fluff went into a dark hole after some acorns, and he didn’t come back; and he gave an awfully loud screech, and I know something must have hurt him very badly, for Fluff doesn’t make a fuss about trifles.”

“Where is the hole into which your brother went, little one?” asked Flipwing, kindly.

“Do you see that big stump over by that tall hemlock-tree?” asked Flossie.

“I can’t see very well in the daytime, little one; but if you describe it, I can find it when night comes.”

“There’s a big stump right over there,” said Flossie, with a nod of her head in the direction indicated. “It’s a _very_ big stump, and you may know it by the lots of moss growing on top of it. Well, under it is a hole. You don’t notice it at first, because it’s almost covered over with leaves and moss, but Fluff pushed them aside, and it’s very large indeed inside.”

“And so Fluff disappeared inside, and that’s the last you’ve seen of him, is it?”

“Yes,” answered Flossie, “and I should not be surprised if an awfully cross creature with long claws lived there.”

“We’ll find out all about that, little one,” said Flipwing; “but why didn’t you tell all this before?”

Flossie hung down her head, and the two brothers looked heartily ashamed of themselves.

“I see how it is,” said the acute Flipwing; “you wanted to tell, and your brothers wouldn’t allow you to. Well, I promised not to betray you if you told me all; but such cowardly actions deserve to be punished, and I should think your consciences would keep you uneasy. I wouldn’t want _my_ conscience burdened with the thought that I had left a brother of mine in the lurch.”

The two cowardly brothers did indeed look as if their consciences were beginning to work, for they hung their heads in a very shamefaced manner, and made no reply.

“Now you can go,” said Flipwing, “for I wish to be alone to think;” and off ran the squirrels, delighted to be released. Even the two cowardly brothers were greatly relieved to know that the bat had taken it upon himself to find their lost brother.

All through the day Flipwing remained silently hanging to his tree, and when night came he suddenly unfolded his long wings and floated noiselessly away.

That same evening old Rough visited his prisoner, and found everything going on most satisfactorily. The little squirrel was as pitiful an object as even he could desire, his former animation gone, and his once plump body grown very meagre under his scanty fare. All this made the old miser particularly happy, and he emerged from his den with a repulsive grin on his grim countenance. Ruffina cautiously followed him; and as he emerged from the den, he turned and saw her behind him.

“What are you here for? Go back to your charge,” said the old miser, angrily.

“Do please allow me a little more to eat;” said Ruffina, meekly; “it is so very little that I grow weaker every day, and I often have a dreadful pain inside.”

“More to eat!” snarled the old rat. “Are you crazy? What do you suppose will become of us unless we are very saving? Yes, old lady, we must pinch and save, unless we wish to die of want.”

“I shall die of starvation unless I have more to eat,” answered Ruffina, made bold by sheer desperation. “You don’t allow me enough to keep body and soul together, and I don’t dare leave your prisoner there long enough to go to seek any.”

“You’d better not, madam,” said the old rat, with a savage snap of his teeth that caused his wife to start back. “You’d better not! I allow you all you need to keep alive. A nice state of affairs there would be if you had your own way!”

“But why not make ourselves comfortable, when you have so much stored away?” pleaded Ruffina.

A sudden spring toward her by the old miser caused Ruffina to give a terrified squeak, and rush back into the den. Her husband looked after her for a moment, and then with a leer of satisfaction he departed.

When he was out of sight, a little dark object emerged from a neighboring tree, and alighted on a bush that grew near the entrance to the den; it was Flipwing the spy, who from his place of concealment had overheard the conversation between the old miser and his wife.

“Ruffina!” called Flipwing.

The summons was repeated several times before the long, sharp nose of the wary Ruffina was seen emerging from the entrance of the den.

“Oh, there you are!” said Flipwing. “I want to have a few words with you.”

When she heard her name called, Ruffina poked her long nose farther out, and cast a sharp glance about her. Nobody was in sight; and she was about to retreat when she once more heard the same voice, and following the direction of the sound discovered the little bat.

Now Ruffina was very timid and submissive in the presence of her lord and master, but when out of his presence was as bold as anybody; and so she answered gruffly,--

“What do you want at this time of night?”

“I want a little talk with you,” answered Flipwing.

“Well, talk away,” said Ruffina.

It was not easy for Flipwing to begin, for having seen Ruffina so timid with her husband, he was quite unprepared for this change of manner.

“I say, it’s a shame the old man is so hard on you,” began Flipwing, after a moment’s pause.

“What’s that to you, pray?” asked Ruffina, shortly.

“I don’t like to see it,” replied Flipwing, determined not to be bluffed by this cool reception. “The old fellow ought to be more considerate of you; there are plenty of younger fellows who would gladly stand in his shoes.”

“Nonsense!” responded Ruffina, bruskly, but in a tone that showed she was not displeased with this broad flattery.

“Fact,” said Flipwing, “and you know it!”

“I don’t know any such thing,” replied Ruffina.

“You’ll not make me believe that,” said Flipwing. “Didn’t you ever see yourself reflected in a brook or pool?”

“Well, suppose I have,--what then?”

Flipwing was rather discomfited to find he had made so little headway in the good graces of the miser’s wife; he had imagined that a little flattery would make a favorable impression.

“I was going to say,” remarked the bat, “that it is a pity old Rough keeps you so short, for a little more food would make your coat shine till you could see your face in it,--not but that it is handsome as it is, but better fare would make it more so.”

“Well, what of it?” asked Ruffina.

“I was about to add that I could show you where you could eat to your heart’s content, and take away all you could carry besides. It is but a short distance from here.”

“No, you don’t!” exclaimed Ruffina, with a shrewd grin.

“What do you mean?” asked Flipwing, innocently.

“I mean, what do you expect me to do in return?”

“Why, nothing,” answered the bat; “can’t you give me credit for being a little disinterested? I hear you complaining to your husband that you have not enough to eat, and he harshly refuses to grant you a larger allowance; what more natural than that I should tell you where you can find what you want? It doesn’t cost me anything,--_I_ don’t eat acorns.”

“Acorns!” exclaimed Ruffina, her mouth fairly watering at the mention of the rich, juicy nuts. “Well, where are they?”

“Do you know the two big chestnut-trees in Farmer Smith’s pasture? The lightning struck one of them last summer and split it. Well, under that one you will find a hole with some large acorns in it. I saw some squirrels hiding them there. You just go and help yourself.”

“I can’t!” answered Ruffina. “Rough would kill me if he knew I left the den.”

“He will not know any thing about it,” said Flipwing.

“He knows everything,” replied Ruffina; “and then I couldn’t leave--” She stopped abruptly, for in her eagerness for the food for which she was suffering she had nearly allowed the secret of the prison to escape her.

“Well, no matter,” replied Flipwing, “do as you like about it; the nuts are there and will keep.”

“It’s of no use,” said Ruffina, decidedly; “Rough would be sure to come home the very moment I had left, and then--” A shiver which was more expressive than words ran through her emaciated frame.

“I’m sorry,” replied the bat, good-naturedly, “for I don’t know when I’ve seen such fine specimens; they were evidently picked expressly.”

“It’s very kind of you to tell me about them,” said Ruffina, “but it is impossible for me to go so far;” and with a shake of her head she slowly re-entered the den.

“She’ll go,” said Flipwing to himself, “and before long too. The poor creature is nearly starved to death, and can’t resist the temptation. Well, I will watch my chance, and rescue poor Fluff, if he does not die of grief and starvation before;” and away flew Flipwing, well-satisfied with the result of his expedition.