home and found that Johnny had taken out the long reins from the harness, and had fastened them to the branches of two trees in the back yard, to make a swing, and then he had loaded the swing with so many children, as to break it down.”
“Yes,” said Phonny, “that was me too; but I did not think that the reins would break.”
“I know it,” said Wallace. “You did not think. That is the nature of the kind of boyishness that I am speaking of. The boy does not think. Men, generally, before they do any new or unusual thing, stop to consider what the results and consequences of it are going to be; but boys go on headlong, and find out what the consequences are when they come.”
While Wallace and Phonny had been conversing thus, they had been riding through a wood which extended along a mountain glen. Just at this time they came to a place where a cart path branched off from the main road, toward the right. Phonny proposed to go into this path to see where it would lead. Wallace had no objection to this plan, and so they turned their horses and went in.
The cart path led them by a winding way through the woods for a short distance, along a little dell, and then it descended into a ravine, at the bottom of which there was a foaming torrent tumbling over a very rocky bed. The path by this time became quite a road, though it was a very wild and stony road. It kept near the bank of the brook, continually ascending, until at last it turned suddenly away from the brook, and went up diagonally upon the side of a hill. There were openings in the woods on the lower side of the road, through which Wallace got occasional glimpses of the distant valleys. Wallace was very much interested in these prospects, but Phonny’s attention was wholly occupied as he went along, in looking over all the logs, and rocks, and hollow trees, in search of squirrels.
At last, at a certain turn of the road, the riders came suddenly upon a pair of bars which appeared before them, – directly across the road.
“Well,” said Wallace, “here we are, what shall we do now?”
“It is nothing but a pair of bars,” said Phonny. “I can jump off and take them down.”
“No,” said Wallace, “I think we may as well turn about here, and go back. We have come far enough on this road.”
Just then Phonny pointed off under the trees of the forest, upon one side, and said in a very eager voice,
“See there!”
“What is it?” said Wallace.
“A trap,” said Phonny. “It is a squirrel trap! and it is sprung! There’s a squirrel in it, I’ve no doubt. Let me get off and see.”
“Well,” said Wallace, “give me the bridle of your horse.”
So Phonny threw the bridle over his horse’s head and gave it to Wallace. He then dismounted – sliding down the side of the horse safely to the ground.
As soon as he found himself safely down, he threw his riding-stick upon the grass, and ran off toward the trap.
The trap was placed upon a small stone by the side of a larger one. It was in a very snug and sheltered place, almost out of view. In fact it probably would not have been observed by any ordinary passer-by.
Phonny ran up to the trap, and took hold of it. He lifted it up very cautiously. He shook it as well as he could, and then listened. He thought that he could hear or feel some slight motion within. He became very much excited.
He put the trap down upon the high rock, and began opening up the lid a little, very gently.
The trap was of the kind called by the boys a box-trap. It is in the form of a box, and the back part runs up high, to a point. The lid of the box has a string fastened to it, which string is carried up, over the high point, and thence down, and is fastened to an apparatus connected with the spindle.
The spindle is a slender rod of wood which passes through the end of the box into the interior. About half of the spindle is within the box and half without. There is a small notch in the outer part of the spindle, and another in the end of the box, a short distance above the spindle. There is a small bar of wood, with both ends sharpened, and made of such a length as just to reach from the notch in the end of the box, to the notch in the spindle. This bar is the apparatus to which the end of the string is fastened, as before described.
When the trap is to be set, the bar is fitted to the notches in such a manner as to catch in them, and then the weight of the lid, being sustained by the string, the lid is held up so that the squirrel can go in. The front of the box is attached to the lid, and rises with it, so that when the lid is raised a little the squirrel can creep directly in. The bait, which is generally a part of an ear of corn, is fastened to the end of the spindle, which is within the trap. The squirrel sees the bait, and creeps in to get it. He begins to nibble upon the corn. The ear is tied so firmly to the spindle that he can not get it away. In gnawing upon it to get off the corn, he finally disengages the end of the spindle from the bar, by working the lower end of the bar out of its notch; this lets the string up, and of course the lid comes down, and the squirrel is shut in, a captive.
When the lid first comes down, it makes so loud a noise as to terrify the poor captive very much. He runs this way and that, around the interior of the box, wondering what has happened, and why he can not get out as he came in. He has no more appetite for the corn, but is in great distress at his sudden and unaccountable captivity.
After trying in vain on all sides to escape, by forcing his way, and finding that the box is too strong for him in every part, he finally concludes to gnaw out. He accordingly selects the part of the box where there is the widest crack, and where consequently the brightest light shines through. He selects this place, partly because he supposes that the box is thinnest there, and partly because he likes to work in the light.1
There was a squirrel in the trap which Phonny had found. It was a large and handsome gray squirrel. He had been taken that morning. About an hour after the trap sprung upon him, he had begun to gnaw out, and he had got about half through the boards in the corner when Phonny found him. When Phonny shook the trap the squirrel clung to the bottom of it by his claws, so that Phonny did not shake him about much.
When Phonny had put the trap upon the great stone, he thought that he would lift up the lid a little way, and peep in. This is a very dangerous operation, for a squirrel will squeeze out through a very small aperture, and many a boy has lost a squirrel by the very means that he was taking to decide whether he had got one.
Phonny was aware of this danger, and so he was very careful. He raised the lid but very little, and looked under with the utmost caution. He saw two little round and very brilliant eyes peeping out at him.
“Yes, Wallace,” said he. “Yes, yes, here he is. I see his eyes.”
Wallace sat very composedly upon his horse, holding Phonny’s bridle, while Phonny was uttering these exclamations, without appearing to share the enthusiasm which Phonny felt, at all.
“He is here, Wallace,” said Phonny. “He is, truly.”
“I do not doubt it,” said Wallace, “but what are we to do about it?”
“Why – why – what would you do?” asked Phonny.
“I suppose that the best thing that we could do,” said Wallace, “is to ride along.”
“And leave the squirrel?” said Phonny, in a tone of surprise.
“Yes,” said Wallace.
To prevent the squirrels that are caught from gnawing out, the boys sometimes line the inside of their traps with tin.
