It looked like a solid screen, but it really gave her a better view. Perri hurried on, and spied the beech, whose broad leaves offered shelter and concealment. Gaily Perri waved at the beech. She whisked about in delight through its living, moving roof. Suddenly she stopped, staring with horror into the depths. Down below was the gamekeeper’s lodge. She had never seen such a thing.

Annerle, who had just awakened, was coming out of the door toward her bench.

“That’s He,” thought Perri when she saw Annerle walking on two legs. “He!” She was as quiet as a mouse; but a cold shiver ran through her body.

“Don’t be afraid!”

Hesitantly Perri raised her head. Quite close above her sat the blackbird, talking very softly. “Don’t be afraid!”

“But—it’s He!” said Perri in a low voice.

“This He is kind.” The very sound of the blackbird’s voice was reassuring.

“Kind?” Perri doubted. “When He puts out his paw—the thunderbolt—?”

“No He would do that to us little folk,” the blackbird declared, “but still He’s dangerous . . .”

“Dangerous? There! You say so yourself!”

“No, that’s not what I mean!” The blackbird moved closer. “That He down there is our friend. We don’t know how it happens, but He understands us, and we talk with him. I guess you’re surprised at that. Well, we’re surprised too, but we’ve got used to it. This morning your mother was with that He down there.”

“My mother?” Perri jumped. “My mother?”

“Yes. She was escaping, and He saved her.”

The young squirrel kept a bewildered silence.

“Run on down and ask about your mother. He’ll tell you everything.”

“I don’t dare.” Perri was seized with suspicion. Perhaps the blackbird was only pretending to be friendly, and was craftily leading her on to destruction. “I’ll stay where I am—and then be off before He notices me.”

“Don’t be stupid.” The blackbird’s voice grew still gentler. “I’ll go down myself. When you see how nice He is to me, will you come after?”

Perri hesitated. “Perhaps—I don’t know.”

The blackbird flew down to Annerle with a boldness which Perri thought unequaled, marched to and fro close in front of her, fluttered up, and perched on the child’s shoulder close to her ear.

“What do you want?” Annerle asked.

The blackbird whispered to her, “Up there is little Perri . . .”

“Why doesn’t she come down here?” asked Annerle.

“She’s afraid.”

Annerle laughed, and the young squirrel, who had never heard a human being laugh before, was amazed that there was nothing terrifying about it. On the contrary, it was warm and friendly.

“Perri!” cried Annerle, “Perri!”

At once Perri leaped down to the ground, whisked through the grass with widespread paws, and in a twinkling was in Annerle’s lap. Curiously Perri looked at the innocent, beautiful human face.

Curiously Annerle looked at the squirrel baby, without touching it.

Then Annerle said, “I think you really look very nice!”

Perri stood up, holding her paws to her white breast, and replied, “I think you look nice, too!”

“Your mother was sitting here just the way you are,” said Annerle. “She was in awful danger.”

“Why?” Perri asked.

“The marten,” said the blackbird. “The marten chased her, and here she was rescued.”

“Oh”—Annerle shook her head—“she’d have got away from him without me.”

“I don’t believe it,” said the blackbird. “She was exhausted, and very feeble.”

“Where is my mother?” Perri was seized with alarm.

“Who can tell?” replied the blackbird. But Annerle said soothingly, “Don’t worry.