Once upon a time, in a little village close to the enchanted forest, there lived a happy squirrel named Sammy. He was not like the others; his eyes sparkled like stars, and he had the brightest little paws. Every day after breakfast, Sammy would hop from tree to tree, playing with his friends. His laughter was a melody, dancing into the ears of everyone who lived nearby.
But one day, as twilight began to greet the heavens, something mysterious happened. The flowers of the meadow began to droop, the little birds on the branches sang sorrowful songs, and even the stars in the sky seemed to hide. Sammy noticed it first. “Ah me, what can be the matter?” he sighed. “Something’s very wrong. I must go into the forest and see if the animals there can tell me about it.”
So Sammy hurried down to the edge of the woods. Breathlessly he called his friend Rabbit. “Oh, Rabbit!” he exclaimed, “What is the matter with everybody?”
“We are all frightened!” said Rabbit, in a frightened voice. “Have you not seen the shadows stealing around?”
“Yes,” said Sammy, “I suppose that’s what made the meadow flowers droop and the little birds so sad; but what are these shadows?”
But Rabbit could not tell. Then they called all the animals there, and asked each in turn what he thought the shadows were. No one could answer, but they all know that the forest folk were very sad and troubled because of them.
Then Sammy said bravely, “Those shadows cannot frighten me! I shall go myself to see about them.” So in he went, with poor little frightened Bunny tagging close after him. With each step they took, the darkened woods grew darker and darker. At last even Sammy was frightened. “I cannot help it, Rabbit,” he said. “I must turn back.”
And when he reached the clear moonlight of the meadow, his little heart beat so fast with fright that he could hardly jump along. There he sat with his good friend Rabbit, talking over the strange happenings.
Suddenly had had a bright thought. “If all the forest animals would come together, they might be able to frighten the naughty shadows away,” he said. “But they must all be full of courage, or there will be no use in trying.”
So Sammy decided to call all the animals to have a council, and he hallowed messages to each of them. On the appointed night, however, while the animals were on their way to the council, the naughty spirits played pranks on the way. They stole the little rabbit’s ears for several kinds living there, thought that Rabbit wouldn’t be able to hop along. Fox pulled out a bushy tail, and carried it on as a bristling whip.
When all were assembled, the Squirrel called those present to order and addressed them himself in a brave voice. “I have called you together,” he said, “because I think we might all band together to frighten away these naughty spirits. I know you will not all agree with me, but I ask those who would rather not join us to leave the meeting now.”
One after another, the birds spoke for their own peoples. At last, only a tin canary was left without a song. “I think I would rather not join said she. “I am so afraid; I should sing no more.”
At last, the council almost sunk. “All who agree said she, “All who agree to conduct the experiment to show the wicked little shadows that they are no place in the great wonder of the world of light. “He sang”
This gave everybody an idea, and they scattered at once to fetch something bright to carry at the head of the procession. The blackest shadow was no match for noon’s-day sunlight, and the blackest dark at night can never prevail against the tiniest match. So they fetched lamps and caps made of convex glasses, bright tin things, bits of crockery and colors of every shade. Bright ribbons the partridges carried, bright-metal bits the squirrels bore; bright stars were the flaming things they tied to the dodo’s long neck.
As soon as everything was ready, Sammy formed them into procession. Then all marched with him into the darkest part of the woods. Every moment the melee and the noise increases–off went the bowls and the swayed crockery with the ringing clang, jiggy-jig went the dodo; and Sammy and his friends raised shrieks and moans. Here one had lost his lantern on the ground, and there another had lost his hat, while all the tail feathers of just nothing were lost for ever.
They went on till they’d reached the very heart of the woods, and here out flashed the torches; out glowed the large semaphores, the tempted railway people; out shone the cups and basins, a pure delight of all those who could bear looking at their reflections. So all poured and concentrated their shiny reflections round the space they stood in, till it blazed as brightly as daylight. This quite frightened off the nasty sprites.
Again and again did they try to return, always with naughty pranks in mind, but there’s nothing done by Woodfolk born at night they won’t know of off at once. So away scudded the butterflies, and as for the lost fireflies in the ditch, well–”They are poisonous insects”, everybody said. And gnats make prizes off even at puffs of night air; that’s all that can be said.
So, thanks in a great measure to Sammy’s bright-eyed brightness, the spirits fled, and Sammy and his friends were ever so many bright things from all all said and done borne natives henceforward were thenceforward bright about the spirit; and that very night exactly made the woods as happy as usual, played all over happy things in sweet and calm besides for some days afterwards.