Читать книгу Ringtail - Alice Crew Gall - Страница 4

Table of Contents

It was an afternoon in early summer, and high in the hollow of a great old tree Ringtail the little Raccoon lay curled up on the floor of the family den.

Out in the forest small woods creatures played about among the trees, or scampered along sunlit pathways and through the tall, sweet-smelling grass. Everywhere the birds were singing and the river sang, too, as it washed gently among the reeds. But the little Raccoon inside the hollow tree knew nothing of this busy world around him.

Lying in the darkness of the den, he listened to the muffled sounds that came to him through the doorway. They were strange, mysterious sounds and they frightened him a little. He wished his mother would come and lie beside him and tell him what they meant.

Where was she? he wondered. Always before when he wakened, she had been there lying close to him. But she was not there now.

What if she had climbed down the hollow tree and gone off somewhere? This thought frightened him even more and he called quickly, “Mother! Mother! Where are you?”

The Raccoon mother crossed the den and stood over him, sniffing him anxiously. “Here I am,” she said. “What is it, Ringtail?”

“I was afraid you had gone away,” he answered, rubbing his nose against her, “but I’m glad you haven’t because I want to ask you about the voices.”

“What voices? What do you mean, Ringtail?”

“I mean the voices that come in through the doorway,” he explained. “Listen, don’t you hear them?”

“Yes,” she said, “they are the voices of the birds and forest creatures in the Outside World. But do not think about them now, for you must go to sleep again. Look at Little Sister; see how soundly she is sleeping.”

Ringtail glanced at his sister, rolled up into a ball of fur beside him, but he was not interested in her just then.

“Tell me more about the birds and forest creatures, won’t you, Mother?” he asked.

“Not now,” she said gently. “Daytime is the time to sleep, you know.”

“No one else is asleep,” Ringtail protested. “The forest creatures are all awake.”

“But they are not Raccoons,” his mother told him. “That is why they are awake; they don’t know any better. Close your eyes, Ringtail.”

The little Raccoon closed his eyes obediently, but he could not sleep. He wanted to hear more about these creatures who did not know any better than to stay awake in the daytime. He wanted to ask questions about the forest and the river.

“Mother,” he said presently, “I’m tired of staying in here. Can’t we go out and lie on the big branch for awhile?”

The Raccoon mother looked down at his eager little black eyes shining through the darkness of the den. “Yes,” she said, “since you are so wide awake you may as well be out in the sunshine. Come along. We will go.”

Ringtail followed her out onto a great branch of the hollow tree just below the doorway to the den, and stood for a moment looking about him.

What an exciting place the Outside World was! The sunlight danced and sparkled on the river. It touched the leafy roof of the forest and fell in little pools of light upon the ground beneath. And now the voices of the birds and forest creatures sounded cheerful and happy and not at all mysterious, as they had a few moments before.

The little Raccoon settled himself contentedly beside his mother. “Won’t you tell me again what I’ll do when I am older?” he coaxed. “Begin with me climbing down the hollow tree.”

“You will climb down the hollow tree,” his mother began, but Ringtail interrupted.

“I’ll have to learn how first,” he reminded her. “Don’t forget to tell about that.”

“Yes,” she said patiently, “you will have to learn how, for you have never climbed down a tree yet. But you will go down head first, as all Raccoons do, and when you have reached the ground——”

“I’ll go to the river!” Ringtail took up the story eagerly. “And I’ll fish for mussels and crayfish and frogs the way you and Father do, won’t I?”

“Yes,” his mother told him, “you will go down to the river and fish for your supper when you are old enough.”

For awhile both of them were silent. The little Raccoon had heard this story many times, but today he liked it better than ever before. Lying there with the warm sun on his back, he thought of the things that he would do when he was ready to go down the hollow tree and off into the Outside World alone.

He would go into the forest yonder and see the strange creatures who lived there. He would go down to the river and fish for his supper; and he would walk through the tall grass on the river bank—the tall grass that waved so gently when the wind blew. All these things he would do when he was older.

Lying quietly beside him, the Raccoon mother looked off across the river to the thicket of low trees and beyond to the far-away hills.

She knew the time was coming soon when Ringtail would no longer be content to stay here on this sunny branch. Young as he was, he was already curious about the world that lay around the hollow tree; and one of these days he would want to go and see it for himself.

There were, she knew, so many things for the little Raccoon to beware of; so many dangers that he did not even dream of! Could she teach him how to guard himself against them? Would he remember not to be too curious about things he did not understand?

The shadows were growing longer now, and the Raccoon mother got to her feet. “I am going back to Little Sister,” she said, “but you may stay out here awhile longer if you like.”

“By myself?” Ringtail asked eagerly.

“Yes,” his mother told him, “you may stay here by yourself if you will be careful.”

“I will,” Ringtail promised. “I will be very careful.” And as his mother reached the doorway of the den he added, “Be sure to tell Little Sister that I am out here all alone. She will be surprised, won’t she?”