A Preemptory Arboreal Extraction

 

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            Since he was short, and hence closer to the ground, Twigg had a different outlook on happenings in the great forest that was his home. He looked up at many things, from the underside. He also looked into things that were way below his parent’s field of vision. The cats were in on this too.
            Twigg liked to do what kids do in their own landscape. He investigated. He got to the bottom of things on his level.  He found and kept interesting bits of this and that. If there was a hole in the ground, he was going to stick his nose, and maybe his whole head in it and look around. It didn’t bother him that he’d seen them all before. Probably. Mostly.
            One nice day, in early spring, when the world was “puddle wonderful”, like in the old poem, Twigg was out ranging around with Berry and Bob. Up and down the familiar paths they scampered. As he ran, Twigg saw a small animal or something way off to the side. It ducked out of sight instantly. Twigg stopped where he was and thought about this animal. It didn’t look like a rabbit, or a mountain beaver.  It sure wasn’t a bird, no pheasant or anything like that.
            The puma brothers ran on down the path, leaving him standing there wondering what he had seen.
            Parting a heavy stand of ferns and getting down on his knees, because he thought the animal had run down there, he found an unfamiliar burrow. He lay down on his tummy to get a better look inside the opening. There was light far down in the burrow, a sort of golden glow that shone from around a bend in the length of the tunnel. As he looked the ferns drooped on his back, but he didn’t notice that.
            “Hey,” said Twigg.
            “I see your light. Who are you?” said he.
            “Animals don’t have lights. You’re not an animal. Who are you?” he called down into the burrow.
            He heard a little bit of tin whistle music and some words of song from way down in the earth.
            “I hear you! You can come out!” said Twigg.
            “I won’t! I won’t! Never! Go away!” said an odd little voice from the burrow.
            Then Twigg remembered something. He took a great big breath, thought about the little creature coming out, even if it didn’t want to, and he “sang” that. Soon there was a scuffling sound, and the creature appeared beside him where he lay on the forest floor.
            “Dirty! Dirty trick, monster!” said the little creature.
            He wasn’t an animal exactly. He was about the size of a common cottontail. He didn’t have fur or paws. He was brown and a little wrinkly like fine thin leather. His ears were pointed with a small tufts of hair on their tips. He had small red cap on, made of something like felt and the most amazing thing of all. He had a tiny plaid jacket on, black, red and green threads woven into a nice pattern. He had little green leather britches about big enough for a rabbit and tiny green boots too.
            “I’m not a monster, I’m Twigg. I don’t want to eat you,” said Twigg. “Who are you? I can make you tell me if I want to. So, just tell me!” Twigg sat up and looked at the little one beside him.
            “Jimmy-Jimmy-Jangle,” said the little one.
            “That’s not true,” said Twigg. “Tell me true!” He took a great breath of air.
            “Oh, fine! My name’s Dingle. Mike Dingle.”
            “That’s a human name,” said Twigg. “Why do you have a human name? You aren’t human.”
            “It’s traditional. We take our name from the owner of the land where we are born. I was born an awful long way from here, Mr. Twigg! You may be sure of that!” said Mike.
            “What do you do, and why are you here?” said Twigg.
            “I trade, buy and sell! I’m good at it too!”
            Just then Berry and Bob came back looking for Twigg. They were naturally intrigued by Mike. Bob stepped up to smell the little guy.
            “I’m not fond of lions, Mr. Twigg! Will it eat me?” yipped Mike.
            “Not unless I tell him to,” said Twigg, rather naughtily, giggling, because he knew Mike was quite safe with both pumas.
            “Are you going to let me go back down?” asked Mike.
            “Oh, maybe I will. What do you have to trade or sell down there, Mike?” said Twigg.
            Now, as it happens Mike Dingle was also a thief. But then, aren’t the wee folk know to be larcenous? Yes they are, and besides that very sharp traders.
            “Well, my dear boy, I have bits and bobs of this and that. I have beads. Shiny beads. Some golden rings. Several fire-making devices, um lets see? I have pens, some valuable. I have coins. I have various herbs in bags and bottles.”
            “What about that light down there.  What’s that?” said Twigg.
            “Well, now,” said Mike. “That thing. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but it’s been nothing but trouble to me. I got it off some big loopy goof who wanted my herbs.”
            “What does it do?” Twigg was getting interested.
            Mike gave him a rather sharp, appraising look out of his little black eyes, then nodded, to himself most likely.
            “It’s a very fine thing, dear sir! It’s a portable opening. A portal if you will, that a big fellow like yourself could carry about in a pocket or a wee baggeen! It also provides light in times of darkness, such as down a burrow in this perishing wilderness!
            “But, it’s of no use to me,” said Mike. “I’m way too small to set it up and hop through.  I thought maybe I could get back home with it. Didn’t work out that way.”
            “Let’s see it, Mike. Will you run down the burrow and get it out?” said Twigg.
            So, Twigg turned Mike loose, and he ran down the burrow and came back dragging an odd bunch of shiny loops of some glistening material. It glowed with a lovely shimmery light. Twigg was fascinated with it. His hands reached out for it! His little brown eyes glowed in its light.
            As Mike watched, looking mighty sharply at Twigg and the glowing thing, Twigg picked it up and shook it a bit to untangle it. It formed itself into a shining circle in the dim forest, and it hung there, steady, shiny, beautiful!
            Now, Mike Dingle was no fool.  He saw that this was his chance. Quick as the proverbial bunny, Mike hopped right through the portable portal and was absolutely totally gone. No Mike left at all.
            Poor Twigg! He didn’t know what to do. But, Berry stepped up and pawed the thing firmly, which caused it to collapse into a pile of shiny loops once more.
            “Berry, I think we better take this to dad,” said Twigg, who was a little afraid to touch it but figured that Ralph would know what to do with it.
            So, he picked it up, very cautiously, and solemnly carried it back home, accompanied by the puma boys. He found Ralph sitting with Ramona by the fire. He went to his parents and just held it out to them.
            “Twigg, where in the name of all that’s good and true did you get that?” said Ralph in amazement.
            “Daddy, a tiny guy in a colored fancy coat had it down a burrow out there under some ferns. When I picked it up it made a sort of opening, and he jumped through it and he’s gone!” said Twigg, with a little worry line between his eyes. “He said his name was Mike Dingle.  I sang him out of the hole in the ground, but then he jumped through the shiny hole and vanished!”
            “Oh, Twigg,” guffawed Ralph. “You’ve met a Plaidie and helped him get home, I bet!”
            “What’s a Plaidie?” said Twigg.
            “You saw him, Twigg! What you saw is what a Plaidie is!” said Ralph. Twigg nodded.
            “Everything is OK. I’ll keep it somewhere safe.  You never know.  It might come in handy some time, dear boy!”