Pikkle flicked a cherry stone in the air. “I say, this is all rather nice, chaps. A body could get used to this, the blinkin’ place is a paradise. Look, there’s a sweet-chestnut tree—beech and hazelnut as well. Flop my ears, if a ghost does live here he must be a blinkin’ well-fed old spook. Yowch! Go easy with those cherry stones, Mara!”

“What are you gabbling on about, Ffolger?” The badger maid looked at him quizzically.

“Gabblin’? I’m not gabblin’, m’dear gel. Just quit chuckin’ jolly ol’ cherry stones at me, that’s all.”

Mara indicated a small heap of cherry pits at her side. “I’ve not thrown a one. Mine are here—see?”

Pikkle clapped a paw to his eye. “Yowch! Now listen, old Tubthing, throw one more cherry stone at me an’ I’ll squidge a cherry right on your bally nose!”

Tubgutt was a serious shrew, not given to practical jokes. “I don’t throw pips at other creatures, Pikkle. Don’t blame me!”

“Yowch! Well, who the—ow! There goes another one!”

Mara looked up swiftly and caught a glance of a fleeting grayish creature flitting through the treetops. “Aha! There’s somebeast up there. Come on. It went that way!”

Dashing between the close-growing trunks, they chased after the shadowy figure, but it was a pointless exercise; whatever it was had them easily outdistanced. The three friends stopped in a small clearing, panting from the hard run. A pool of crystal-clear water provided them with a refreshing drink.

As they drank, Pikkle watched the treetops reflected in the surface of the water. Leaning close to Mara, he whispered, “It’s back again. The bally thing’s watchin’ us from the top of that beech tree yonder. What’ll we do?”

Mara kept her face down and her paws cupped as she drank water. “Ah yes, I see it now. Pay no attention. We’ll let its own curiosity get the better of it. Look, it’s coming lower.”

Traveling in small jerky runs, the creature was moving down the beech trunk toward the ground. Tubgutt watched the reflection in the pool with Mara and Pikkle.

“What do you suggest we do now, Mara? It’s down on the grass.”

Now Mara had lost the reflected picture, she took a quick glance over her shoulder. The creature had started moving across the clearing behind them.

“It’s a squirrel!” the badger maid hissed to her friends. “When I give the word we must move fast, cut it off from the trees and surround it in this clearing. Pikkle, you’re the fastest—get behind it. Tubgutt, go to the left. I’ll go to the right. That way the only place it will have left to run will be straight into this pool. Ready . . . Go!”