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AMERICAN FORESTRY 



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THE PINE WOODS FOLK 



SQUEAKY CHIPMUNK MAKES A DISCOVERY 



By E. G. CHAYNEY 



QUEAKY CHIPMUNK woke up 

 with a very distinct feeling of 

 chill and decided that some- 

 one must have left the front 

 door open. He did not tear up 

 to the door excitedly to see 

 what had happened as he ordi- 

 narily would have done for the truth was 

 that he was only about half awake. In 

 fact he had been only half awake for sev- 

 eral weeks. Ever since the snow had closed 

 over the entrance to his house he had been 

 sleeping most of the time when he was 

 not eating. He had had some awful dreams 

 of the food supply giving out before the 

 snow melted. 



"That's what it is," said Squeaky, sud- 

 denly wide awake at last, "the snow must 

 have melted." 



He gave one sharp squeak to his sleepy 

 little wife and rushed up the narrow 

 passage to the doorway. Sure enough, 

 the snow was gone and the 

 sun shone full in his face. The 

 sun blinded him at first after 

 the long weeks he had 

 spent in the dark and he 

 blinked contentedly in 

 the warm sunshine 

 without seeing much. 

 Slowly it dawned 

 on Squeaky that he 

 could hear 

 a s t r a n ge, 

 rasping 

 sound not so 



very far away. His curi- 

 osity was almost eating 

 him up and he strained his 

 eyes to look through that dazzling sunlight. 

 Gradually things began to take definite 

 form. At last he could see. Sure enough 

 there was that old prickly porcupine eat- 

 ing all the bark off of one of those very 

 Norway pine trees which Chatter Box's 

 grandfather had planted. Squeaky was 

 terribly excited. 



"Hey, you old quill pig," he screamed, 

 "Stop that right away!" 



Porky stopped eating and listened a 

 minute. He did not hear anything more 

 and started to eat again. 



"Did you hear what I said?" Squeaky 

 screamed again as he hopped excitedly to 

 a stub on the top of the old dead log. 



Porky paused again and looked curi- 

 ously around to see where the sound came 

 from. He saw Squeaky and settled com- 

 fortably down onto a tiny little limb which 

 did not seem nearly large enough to hold 

 him and prepared to talk. He had not 

 seen any of his friends for some time and 

 he was quite ready for a friendly chat. 



"Hello, Squeaky," he called down cheer- 

 fully, "did you speak to me?" 



"Did I speak to you?" Squeaky shouted, 

 tweeking his little tail angrily, "I screamed 

 at you as loud as I could." 

 "Well," Porky said pleasantly, "you see 

 I make so much noise knaw- 

 ing off this bark that I have a 

 hard time hear- 

 ing anyone else." 

 It was hard to 

 stay angry with 

 anyone who 

 spoke so 

 pleas antly 

 and Squeaky 

 began to feel 

 a little bit 

 ashamed of 

 himself. He 

 hoped that 

 not heard him 

 "quill pig." 

 "I was / )///// wondering," 

 said Squeaky / 1/ // in a very dif- 

 ferent tone, I \ I ' "if you knew 

 that Chatter' ' / ' Box's grand- 

 father planted that tree that you are eat- 

 ing up?" 



"Is that so?" said Porky looking at the 

 tree with a new interest. 



"Yes," said Squeaky, feeling quite im- 

 portant, "he buried a cone there and those 

 three trees grew from it." 



