A squirrel in a hurry

     Samuel was very fast. Not in the least bit agile and nimble, and also a little bit hyperactive. He liked to run along the branches of the trees, and he could move all over the forest with speed and ease in the canopy's labyrinth of twisted pathways. He once escaped the claws of a young razor tooth cat, that chased him for ten miles in the canopy before giving up and leaving the treetops.

       And now, here he was, scurrying along a maple branch carrying an immensely important message. He figured he could make it to the forest north in a day and a half, since there would be no pit stops of good loving to be had this go around. He would stop to sleep at the big mulberry tree that overlooked the fork of the river, and then high tail it to the forest north, lickity-split at first light.

     This was the "the plan" as he liked to call it to himself as he went over the fine details in his head, while leapfrogging from the maple branch, onto another maple branch, possibly even from the same tree, and then onto a Hemlock branch, as he made his way north through the forest canopy.

    And this forest was the great Hemlock Forest of Outland South. Older than the great grands and the great-great grands. More sinister in its old age now than in its youth, only the brave and stupid wander in. Well, you can guess which one may come out again.

     Hemlocks here grew far and wide, and their growth habit became very large. Their roots were interconnected throughout the soil with a mycelium that stretched the entire forest floor.  This forest belonged to the Hemlocks and there would be no denying it. 

     Along the straight hemlock branch and then up the big trunk and around to the east where he ran straight along another hemlock branch and then leapt off and to the north to grab onto the branch of another, much taller, hemlock tree. This was the general pattern of running. Along one branch, hopping to another, always moving north. He knew the branches like people know roads to their favorite places.

      Off of another hemlock branch and down to another maple tree, where he caught a small flimsy branch and swung himself around and up to another branch where he took off running like a furtoe running from an eagle. Then he leapt up and into an oak tree, but to his surprise a robin had built her nest in the usual landing spot. And so, when Samuel came to rest in the middle of the nest with his fur all full of feathers, he found himself face to face with a very hungry baby robin.

      But, as hungry as the baby robin was, Samuel was the quicker, and more nimble, and also a bit hyperactive. He leapt up just before the baby robin could snap its beak at him, and bounded out of the nest, and off down a branch just in time to miss the mother's return. Which was rather convenient because mother Robins are known to be short tempered and violent, to say the least. Especially concerning strange squirrels who invaded their nests.

     Across another oak branch, and then topsy turvy headfirst straight down the trunk about halfway, around to the northwest side of the tree where he turned back up and ran to a branch almost as high as the one he came in on.  Then he ran down that branch and jumped up to another hemlock branch.

     He was making great time. He was even just a little ahead of schedule. This had him feeling very proud of himself, and he decided to give himself a little congratulatory pep talk.

    " Sammy ol boy," he said to himself, knowing it was him talking to him since he always called himself "Sammy ol boy".

  " You're making great time! Maybe even just a little ahead of schedule, I'd say." And as he spoke, he leapt up to a higher branch and bounded into another hemlock tree.

     "This is going to look very good on your permanent record. What's more, you're sure to be promoted to some position of rank and merit!"

 He was feeling very, very proud of himself already. The pep talk was working, and probably a little bit too well. He almost forgot to jump when he reached the end of the branch and had to use his long fluffy tail to catapult himself to the next tree, which wasn't a hemlock at all, but a very rare black skull nut tree.

    The black skull nut tree or sometimes called black nut tree so as to not scare anyone, is native to the forests of northern Outland, but very rare in the south, where the great Hemlock Forest resided.

     This particular black nut tree was planted by the giant person known as Apple, who lived in the Hemlock Forest, and helped to keep the forest firmly in the rule of the trees. Apple brought a sapling all the way from his homeland in the north when he moved south. The sapling was from a propagated cutting from a black nut tree in his mother's front yard.

     Today, it would serve as a checkpoint for Samuel. He was two thirds of one quarter of the way there. Or was it two quarters of one third of the way there? He could never remember, but either way it was a checkpoint to let him know that he was some fraction of some percentage of the way there, and that's all that mattered as he scurried across a north reaching branch and leapt up into another oak tree.

    He ran hurriedly across the interior of the canopy, jumping from one tree and scurrying through another, happily forgetting the pep talk he was receiving from himself, when his tummy began to rumble so loud he thought he was being chased by another razor tooth cat. He stopped and quickly looked behind him, just to make sure.

     "Nothing to worry about, Sammy ol boy," he said to himself just loud enough to hear it.

     "Just a little tummy rumbles. And I know just the remedy!" And he ran straight down the trunk of the hemlock tree he was currently in, all the way down, down, down, out of the canopy until he was on the ground. Which was a very dangerous place for squirrels to be in Hemlock Forest.

     Once on the ground, he began to smell around for seed nuts, and acorns. Squirrels were always burying nuts and forgetting them, and he figured there would be a few left over from the fall hiding season. He sniffed this way, and that way, until he sniffed a sniff of acorn just under a small oak sprout. He dug with his tiny squirrel hands until at last he reached the acorn. He pulled on it, but it seemed to be stuck, as if it had grown arms and was gripping tightly into the soil.

     He hadn't even noticed that the oak sprout was growing right out of the acorn when he caught a slight movement on the tips of his whiskers, froze still, and held his breath. His heart pounded in his chest, and he quickly scanned the area for movement.

     Just then he felt a breeze over his left shoulder, as a young Razor tooth cat leaped from behind a hemlock trunk, claws extruded and fangs dripping with hungry drool, and with her desperate claws caught him by the tip of his tail as he tried to scurry away.

     "Aahhahahahaghhghagh" he screamed, as he pulled as hard as his frail hungry body could pull. He screamed and he yelled, but there was no one to save him.

    The razor tooth cat lifted him up, grinning and licking her yellow teeth. She held him over her face and began to laugh.

     "Hehehehahahahaha! I finally got you! I missed you the first time, but you weren't so fast today, little morsel."  She opened her mouth, and began to lower her prey into it, when out of the canopy came a long red tongue, covered in dark green spots, and wrapped itself around the torso of the razor tooth cat, and snatched it up into the trees, causing her to lose her grip on Samuel, and she dropped him to the ground.  Samuel watched as the hungry cat vanished into the canopy with a screech and a howl, never to be seen again.

     He dared not move. His heart pounded out a rhythm and a beat that swirled his brain. He wasn't entirely sure that he was still alive, but he wasn't entirely sure that he wasn't. But he knew for a fact that he had never seen anything like that before. Not ever, and he was scared of what might happen if he begrudged a movement to breathe.

    An hour passed. Or so it felt like an hour to Samuel as he lay motionless on the forest floor. He twitched his tail, and watched with high alert, but there was no movement or sound, save the birds who had begun to sing after the razor tooth was gone. He began to feel a little braver and stood up as quickly as he could. Still no sight of danger. 

    Then, as he was about to sprint up the nearest maple tree, he noticed three acorns that had been uncovered in the mayhem of the razor tooth cat. He sniffed, and quickly ate one, then stowed the other two in his cheeks, and sprinted up the maple tree, and headed north across its branches.

     The rest of the day's journey ran about as well as before the incident with the big cat and the thing that Samuel couldn't put a name to. He ran and scurried from limb to branch, from tree to tree, until finally in the failing light of evening, he came to the mulberry tree overlooking the river fork. In the dim light he could see the start of the east branch, which left the forest, and led to Hemlock East, and he could also see the southern branch, which ran south through the forest on the eastern side. He had never spent much time around the forest river, as he had always been told by his mother, and his grands, that the lands about the river were very dangerous, being full of vipers and cats. Samuel was very glad he hadn't seen any vipers.

   He picked out a branch at the top of the large mulberry tree, he pulled the acorns from his cheeks, ate one, and then fell fast asleep looking at the stars. He dreamed a wonderful dream, where he and the little red tailed squirelette were floating along the river in a small canoe made from a hemlock branch. They floated down the river, and as they smiled at each other they moved faster and faster, the water becoming more turbulent until out of nowhere a giant hemlock tree sprang up from the river. It had a broken branch on the left side, but a long arm like branch on the other, and with it picked up the canoe, and tumped the two squirrels out into the river.

     Samuel woke up to the sound of gently flowing water, and the light of a swift sunrise that came with the songs of many feathered creatures. He yawned and stretched. He was just trying to remember the dream when he was interrupted by an angry, rumbly sensation in his belly. Giving up on the dream, he turned and ate the acorn he brought. He had been using it for a pillow to make sure it didn't go anywhere. Then he scurried into the canopy of the mulberry tree, ate several mulberries, and then remembered that he was in the process of delivering an immensely important message. It was, after all, a most memorable occasion.

     He darted off at once, across the mulberry canopy which reached northward across the river, and using the end of the branch like a trampoline, bounced himself high into the air out into the treeless air space of the river. He felt the wind in his face, and the mulberries in his stomach, as he stretched out his arms and his legs, stretching the flesh of his body into a flat furry glider. He caught a gust of wind, and with it he soared northward across the river. Looking down he saw a hemlock branch floating along, meandering with the current of the water. He looked up again, and as he approached an oak tree on the north bank, he braced himself for the landing. which was flawless, as he very smoothly grabbed hold of a large branch.

     Northward he ran, across one tree and into another. after a mile he began to see a brightening in the foliage ahead. it was the edge of the forest north. he picked up jis pace. he was sprinting now, and his lungs burned, but was determined to deliver the message.

     Now he was at the edge of the canopy. he looked out into the grasslands ahead and saw no one. he looked east, and then west, but there was no one there. he remembered there was an old road the people had built when they thought they could conquer the forest. it wasn't here, but which way was it? the only thing to do was pick a direction. he would run into the east branch of the river if he was too far east, but if he went west, he just might find it. so west he went.

     Suddenly he began to smell smoke from a fire. surely that meant a people was nearby. he ran faster, and faster until he came upon a tent, and a horse, and a fire. the horse turned and looked at him and gave a little “harumph”. at that an old man peeked from around the tent and saw Samuel P Squirrel running up to him. Samuel stopped in front of the old man, breathing heavily, and flailing his little arms.

     Grampas looked down at the little squirrel, squeaking and waving his little hands.

“Awww,” he said, “the little guy must be hungry.” and he looked at the horse, as if to get the horses thoughts on the matter. the horse just shook his head and went back to eating the tall grass. Grampas picked up the little squirrel and took him inside the tent. He sat him down on a box covered in woven wool and then retrieved a small bottle and a small bowl. He poured water into the bowl and handed it to Samuel.

   “Once you've caught your breath, little one, why don't you just start from the beginning.” and grampas sat down on the little stool ready to hear an immensely important message. But that, I'm afraid, is part of another story altogether…