the next morning the discovery of a new tree in the farmer’s yard caused great surprise. at first the people were awed and afraid, and some were a little suspicious. indeed, snythergen had to stand very stiff and still and put on his very best tree manners to make them believe he was a real tree. he was watched so closely that he scarcely dared to breathe, and he feared the cool breeze from the lake might make him cough, for already he had[72] a slight cold from wading in the chilly water the day before. once or twice he nearly exploded trying to hold in a sneeze. but the people on the ground saw only his top branches tossing and thought it due to an upper current of air.
then an adventurous boy began climbing his trunk, and snythergen thought surely the little fellow would feel his heart beat. but the child only climbed higher and higher, venturing out on a high limb which snythergen held insecurely with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. it had been difficult to support the branch alone and keep it from swaying, but with the heavy boy on it snythergen found it almost impossible. the perspiration stood out on every bough. his left arm became so tired it pained him dreadfully, and it took all his strength to keep from dropping it to his side. he knew that he could not hold it out much longer, and yet if he let the branch drop the boy would be dashed to the ground and perhaps cruelly hurt. in spite of all he could do he was horrified to see the limb settling slowly downward and he closed his eyes to shut out the catastrophe that seemed sure to follow. suddenly there was a cry from below.
“get right down out of that tree,” called the[73] mother of the boy. snythergen braced himself to hold on a moment longer, and just as the boy reached his trunk, the branch fell to his side. snythergen breathed a prayer of thanksgiving. the child soon was safe on the ground.
snythergen thought the people in the farmer’s yard curious and watchful, but he was mistaken. he was soon to learn what real curiosity and watchfulness are like. some one had sent for a famous tree doctor, and he came promptly to look snythergen over. when he appeared snythergen put on his most correct forest behavior and really was a model tree, for the doctor’s benefit.
“i can’t see anything unusual about that tree,” said the physician, unpacking his instrument case. snythergen was holding out his branches gracefully and letting his leaves flutter naturally in the breeze. the doctor spread his shining wood-carving tools out on a cloth on the ground. much as the little man knew about trees, he had never learned to climb one, and the farmer had to fetch him a long ladder before he could make his examination.
when the little man had mounted well up toward the top of snythergen he placed a fever thermometer in a knothole, which happened to lead into snythergen’s mouth. leaving it there[74] he descended to the ground, and wrapped a rubber bandage about his trunk, winding it so tightly that snythergen barely avoided a cry of pain. one look at the indicator gave the tree doctor a shock.
“sap pressure 110!” he cried. “there must be some mistake!”
again and again he tried it and each time it registered 110.
“surely there is something very strange here!” said the doctor. “never have i heard of a tree with a sap pressure over 30. why, it’s as high as the blood pressure of a boy!”
but the tree doctor was to receive another shock when he tapped snythergen’s bark and listened with a tree stethoscope.
“why, i didn’t think there was a tree in the world with such a violent throb. it’s as fast and strong as the heart beat of a child!”
but the greatest shock of all was to come when he climbed up to read the fever thermometer. he could hardly believe his own eyes when he saw what it registered.
“i never heard of a tree having such a temperature!” he cried. “it is as high as a boy’s.” indeed the temperature was so much like a boy’s, the little doctor so far forgot himself as to shout:
“stick out your tongue!”
[75]
“stick out your tongue!”
[76]
this command took snythergen by surprise,[77] and without thinking, he stuck his tongue out through the knothole, and when the little man saw it, he was so frightened he nearly fell from the ladder. snythergen drew back his tongue in a hurry. the doctor puzzled and puzzled over the matter. finally he concluded that he must have seen a squirrel’s red head.
there were so many strange things about the tree that the physician made up his mind in the interest of science to watch it day and night. he camped in a tent beside snythergen, and only when he retired for a cat nap did he take his owl-like eyes from the tree. even then snythergen could not attempt to escape, or even stretch his limbs and relax, for the little man was a light sleeper and would rush out at the faintest unusual rustle of a twig.
snythergen realized more than ever that the life of a tree is not all joy. his roots were sore and calloused from standing in one position. a leg or an arm would go to sleep because he dared not move it. he was numb all over, besides being cold, tired and hungry. he gazed longingly into the dining room. his mouth watered and he swallowed hard at the sight of the rich home cooking. how eagerly would he[78] have eaten the crusts the farmer’s little boy tried to hide under the edge of his plate! how he would have enjoyed taking the heaping plate of his tormentor, the little doctor, when the latter’s back was turned! but usually the window was closed, or some one was looking.
all the next morning snythergen watched impatiently for squeaky to appear on the opposite shore of the lake. he wondered why sancho wing did not come, but he could not know that sancho was spending all of his time keeping track of the bear, who was in a revengeful mood and very restless. the ice had given him mental chilblains and the pain served as a reminder, making him more determined than ever to find and punish his persecutors.
about eleven o’clock snythergen thought he saw a little movement in the bushes along the opposite shore of the lake. then he recognized squeaky’s peculiar wobbling walk. so delighted was he that he forgot the little doctor, and waved his branches excitedly. squeaky answered. snythergen signaled back that he was hungry and wanted some bread and butter with sugar on it—not an easy message for a tree to wave to a pig all the way across a lake. it took ingenuity to figure it out, and this is how he did it.
[79]
first snythergen held out two limbs and pretended he was carrying a slice of bread in each hand. next he rubbed an upper branch over these in such a way that squeaky would know he wanted them spread with butter—and not to save on the butter. then he bent his top boughs down, shaking them vigorously to make the pig understand that he wanted all the powdered sugar the bread would hold.
the little tree doctor was watching this performance with the utmost amazement.
“why, i believe that tree has the st. vitus’ dance!” said the physician. “i never heard of a tree having it before. the discovery will make me famous. but i must prove it beyond a doubt or the scientists will never give me credit for it. in order to be sure i must give it the brass band test for that is the only reliable one. if our leafy friend here dances when the band plays i will know then that he has the st. vitus’ dance. if he does not, i may have to ‘tree-pan’ him to find out.”
snythergen shuddered at the horrible thought of being trepanned—or in other words of having his skull operated on so his brain could be examined. as he talked to himself the little man danced excitedly about.
“the fit seems to be over,” he said breathlessly,[80] when snythergen had waved his last signal to squeaky.
“dinner is ready,” called the farmer’s wife from the house.
“i will be right in,” answered the doctor, for he had decided to wait until he had eaten before going for the musicians.
the chance of running away to meet squeaky and bread and butter had become more and more doubtful now the little doctor had seen him waving, and snythergen was so hungry! he looked in through the dining-room window to see what the family was having to eat. it was a very hot day and the window was wide open. the farmer was placing a steaming plate of meat and potatoes before the doctor, who sat facing the window where he could watch the tree while he ate. the rich odor of food arose to snythergen’s nostrils and it was more than he could resist.
“i must have something soon, or i’ll fall over,” he said to himself. “i wonder how i can manage it?” for a moment he thought, then an idea came to him. leaning over, with his top branches he beat violently upon the roof of the house.
“what’s happening upstairs!” cried the farmer’s wife in alarm.
[81]
“it sounds as if the roof was falling in!” said the farmer leaping from his chair, and they rushed out of the room. in his excitement the doctor followed part way upstairs. the instant he was gone snythergen reached a forked limb into the dining room and helped himself to the doctor’s dinner.
“he will never miss it,” he thought. “he’s too excited to eat, anyway.”
when the physician returned and found his dinner had disappeared, he was dumbfounded.
“what has become of it?” he cried, jumping up and looking under the table. he searched behind the chairs, in the closets, and even in the hall. in each new place he cried out over and over again, “who took my dinner? who took my dinner?”
while he was thus occupied snythergen had an opportunity to eat, but he was in such haste to be done before his tormentor looked out of the window again, that he entirely forgot his table manners and crammed and stuffed his mouth with his twigs. the farmer and his wife had found nothing out of the way upstairs to explain the noise on the roof, and when they returned the little man was still fussing about, looking in the china closet, the napkin and silver drawers, and other absurd places.
[82]
“what’s up now?” demanded the farmer, who was getting a bit tired of the tree doctor’s queer ways. the farmer’s wife too was looking on suspiciously. she did not fancy having a stranger poking into her drawers and closets.
the physician tried to explain but they only laughed at him.
“the very idea!” cried the farmer’s wife. “nobody could come into the room and take your dinner away without your knowing it!”
“besides, who would want something to eat that bad around here,” said the farmer. “everybody knows we feed every tramp that comes along!”
the little doctor felt uncomfortable and embarrassed because they laughed at him, and he barely touched the second plate of food the farmer served him. snythergen was right, he was too excited to eat. scarcely could he wait until the dinner was over for the farmer to drive him to town to get the band.
[83]
thereafter he would strike a tree-like pose not so difficult to hold
[84]
the doctor’s departure was snythergen’s cue to escape. cautiously he stole away from the house and waited for an opportunity to cross the lake. the man next door was plowing, and snythergen had to be very careful. while the man’s back was turned he ran as fast as possible, but when he plowed toward him, snythergen[85] had to stand motionless and trust that his altered position would not be seen; and whatever position snythergen’s limbs were in when the farmer turned toward him, had to be held while the plow traveled the whole length of the field. once when the man approached, snythergen was in the lake with one root raised ready to step, and he dared not lower his root or make any other movement until the farmer had walked the whole distance and had turned his back again. thus he stood balancing himself for fifteen minutes, and to make matters worse he had been caught with his branches pointing to the sky. the painful experience of holding this position taught him a lesson, and thereafter when the plow neared the end of the row, he would strike a tree-like pose not so difficult to hold. luckily the farmer was near-sighted, and failed to remark the strange apparition of a tree wading across the lake up to its branch pits in water.
in spite of various discomforts snythergen made the crossing successfully and had no difficulty in following the trail home. on reaching the house he found sancho wing and squeaky feverishly preparing the bread and butter and sugar to take to him. they were overjoyed to see him, but snythergen was too tired[86] to sit up and visit. he had been standing on his roots so long he was only too glad to lie down and sleep. but before he would close his eyes, they had to assure him that the woodchoppers had left the forest.
