With a violent exclamation the tormentor turned his attention to father, who was only a foot or two further away, and crouching on the extreme outer end of a bough. Evidently he intended to make sure of him, for he worked himself round so as to get between father and the tree, and managed it so well that he seemed to me to have cut off all chance of escape. I think he must have actually touched father’s tail, when the most unexpected thing happened. Instead of jumping outwards, which, as the bough tip projected a good way, would in all probability have ended in a fall to the ground, into the very hands of the three watchers below, father leaped straight towards the boy, landing actually on his shoulder. This startled him so much that he very nearly let go altogether, and if I had not been in such a panic I could have laughed at his fright. Then, before the boy could recover himself, another quick bound, and father was out on another branch, ten feet away, quite out of reach of his would-be captor. [Illustration: FATHER LEAPED STRAIGHT TOWARDS THE BOY LANDING ACTUALLY ON HIS SHOULDER] A torrent of language worse than any magpie’s burst from the fellow’s lips, as he turned and scrambled after father again. He might as well have tried to catch a will-o’-the-wisp. Every time he got near enough to make a snatch, father would make another nimble jump, all the time artfully luring his pursuer lower down the tree and away from our hiding-place. The game went on for a good ten minutes, and by the end of that time the enemy was dripping with perspiration and speechless with fury. His rage was increased by the jeers of his friends below. At last he gave it up, having made up his mind it was not much of a game to be made a fool of by a squirrel and mocked by the onlookers. He dropped quickly from bough to bough, and presently I heard his heavy boots thud on the ground. But before he had reached the foot of the tree, both our parents were back with us. Then the sound of loud wrangling came up to us. Surely now they would go; but no! we were not safe yet. There was further talk, and then the whole four spread out in a circle round the fir-tree. Presently, with a loud whizzing sound, some heavy object came hurtling up past us. It struck a twig near the summit of the tree and clipped it like a bullet. Thud! Another struck the main stem just below us with a force that sent the bark flying in a shower. Then we saw what those lead-weighted canes were for. A third squailer passed only a few inches above father’s head. He called to mother: ‘They’ll kill us if we stop here. Come along; take Hazel and follow me.’