Squirrels are all the same, aren’t they? Set like an aeroplane on autopilot to find all types of nut - only to bury or hide them for the rare times when they rouse from a lazy, winter torpor for a tasty snack.
You’d be forgiven for thinking that squirrels are mindless beasts.
You’d probably be correct - apart from, of course, this one little unique tribe of Red Squirrels somewhere secret in Northern England. Let me tell you a story about these Clever Squirrels.
In a great big, green forest that grows south of Scotland and North of Sheffield - I can’t tell you precisely where, because these are special, rare squirrels - something magical happened. It is to Red Squirrels I refer. Smaller than the Grey ones you’ll commonly see, they were the first species of squirrel to live on these fair shores - until the big grey ones arrived, of course.
And because they’re bigger and speak in an American squirrelly squeak..(owing to the fact they are from America, of course.) the poor Reds were at a disadvantage. Grey Squirrels got to all the best places to live first, squirrelled away lots of the nutty bounty from the forests, and weren’t so very friendly to our Red friends.
Worse still, nature was tough for our Red friends. Wind, rain, storm and snow were always about - and if the nut hoards were lost or ruined, the poor Reds couldn’t get more food quickly - and they’d have to leave their homes again… or live on whatever they could scrape together.
This went on for years and years until the chief of one Red Squirrel tribe - the High Branches, in a place called Long Ding - had a brilliant idea. He listened to a smart little tail in his tribe.
Now let’s imagine this place Long Ding. These squirrels lived, you see, not far from an iron track where the great horses of the two legs hurtled past. And across the iron track, more iron horses would cross. These leafless trees would rise and fall to stop the horses - and the Long Ding would sound out across the hills - echoing for all bird and beast to hear. And that is where Long Ding got its name.
Little did the High Branches know, but one of their tribe was to change Long Ding (and, in fact, all Red Squirreldom) forever. This bushy tail was called Rusty Lloyd. He was a true leader, albeit not aware of it before he became it. He was a bit of a clever squirrel, indeed. He always collected too many nuts. He’d leap from oak to oak, and babble away to himself - always looking for more nuts - because something was bothering him. It had bothered him ever since he’d left his mother’s drey (that’s a squirrel house to you and me!) He may have had the mightiest oak hollow, but he never felt… that he had peace of mind.
A squirrels life is hard and fraught with risks and dangers. On this sunny, autumn day, where the leaves made colourful displays across the forest, this normal little worried squirrel would become a legend.
“Every year we find and bury all these Acorns, Hazels, Cobb nuts and Conkers! We work, we run, we leap, we bury. Then we rest, in that torpor - all still and silent. As yummy as they are when we wake, and as much as we like to snack on them - some years a squirrel will lose lots of them. And oh cry! What if one year it was I, or my good friends that lost them all?” He’d say.
“Scarlet Jenny did once! We all heard - she lost them all and by Spring she was as skinny as a sparrow! For Squirrels don’t share so well.” Said Rusty Lloyd to himself, through an acorn in his mouth, one he was trimming a little husk off.
“I see all my squirrel friends building up their nut hoards. Surely, we all must worry! I worry so. I recall Scarlet Jenny collected twice as much the next year and now she’s bigger than a pigeon. That can’t be good, either.” He added, leaping to his hoard-oak and dropping another loose nut through a hole in the trunk.
“Woe betide the Greys should come! Carmine Jeffrey swears he saw a Grey on the old stone wall at Throckwell Gap. What if they steal our nuts? This winter would be harsh indeed. I toil for peace of mind, but something nibbles at it like a woodpecker on the trunk. These me-worries. These ums and ahs.”
Just then, another squirrel leapt onto his branch. And what was to follow would give Rusty Lloyd a bright idea indeed.
“Hello Rusty Lloyd, how goes your bushy tail, does it balance steady? Chattering to yourself again, I see.” They said.
It was his neighbour, Cherry Anne, a lovely squirrel who was always kind and honest.
“Wonderful indeed, how goes it for you, Cherry Anne! And yes, me-worries and those ums and ahs trouble me still.” Said Rusty Lloyd.
“What brings you to this oak today - may I help, or do you wish to run and play, or speak of me-worries?” He added.
“My hoards, Rusty Lloyd, they’re full - and you have such a lot of space here! Did you not once say to me you’ve never expected to fill this hollow?” She said.
“Indeed - Cherry Anne - if I should toil for years I’d never fill this great hulk’s inside, and yet still I must crawl all the way down to find my stash.” He chuckled back.
“Spiders...” He said shivering and laughing.
“Might I drop a few conkers in? I do so love them, and we’re only a tree or two apart - I can always rouse and wander over in the months of shiver. I am happy for you to have one for your trouble.”
“It would be no trouble, I am sure.” He said.
Hers was a reasonable request, after all. Rusty Lloyd had shared some extra hazels with her that he’d found last winter. He was sure some of his hoard lasted more than one year, too. He had plenty of space, it was true.
As he was about to agree, his little squirrel brain had a flash of genius. And an idea that no other squirrel had ever had popped into his head - like lightning had struck him through his bushy tail. His eyes widened and he hopped up and down excitedly.
Yes, Cherry. Yes! But, oh Cherry - I have been worrying so after Scarlet’s troubles. You, Cherry, have given me a brilliant idea. An idea even the eagles couldn’t expect to have. (They both shuddered at the thought of eagles - and each looked up towards the sky nervously.)
“What if we helped each other - the entire tribe? Oh ,this idea might reward me with an extra nut or two! I could even be Chief - when Imperial Rishi drops his tail. They let Rosewood Bob have more acorns one year just because he shared the spot where he found the biggest oak tree! It could be me to get thanks!” He quickly chattered to himself.
“What could, Rusty Lloyd? What is this master plan?” Said Cherry Anne, confused. She'd only come to ask about a few conkers. She'd always found his ways rather interesting, though.
“Well, Cherry. As you say, I am lucky to have a spacious hollow for my hoard. I am also so worried about not having enough, me-worries are many! I’ve made sure to get more than enough. And you have extra, I know Crimson Charlie does too… but the others - no." He put his little claw to his chin.
"It made me think. What if my hoard could be everyone’s, you see? What if everyone gave me a nut or few for my hollow and we filled it to the cap here by the hollow. If anything should happen to someones hoard - I’d have enough to give them most back. It would be In-my-Tree!” He scratched his claws together lightly, as if considering his wonderful plan a worthy squirrelly scheme.
“Now, of course, dear Cherry - if their hoards weren’t lost… I could keep the nuts they’d given me pre, you know before the, um - ahead the ah.”
“Pre-the-um? Or Pre-me-saying-um? Well if it's me-worries, Pre-the-um - I should like the sound of Pre-me-um. Haha!" Cherry Anne said, confusing even herself.
"Golly, you always entertain - although I am not sure I follow all this.” Added Cherry, looking baffled and chuckling - but still very interested.
(At least he'd agreed to stash her conker.)
Rusty, turning away slightly, was already speaking again.
“And whilst we all must worry our hoards are lost - and sometimes they are stolen or ruined by storms or pooped on by Badgers, or collapsing into the tunnels of those poor blind moles - not every hoard is, is it? They can’t all be lost. Oh no.” His tail swirled.
Cherry Anne hopped forward intently, her head now leaning to the side listening - her tail bolt upright. She got the feeling he wasn’t so much talking to her as he was with her - or even just with himself!
“With the nuts I’ve collected, I could easily replace any one hoard. As long as the amount of nuts in-my-tree is more than the hoard… I would have to count them carefully, and limit the amount of nuts I can promise. But I suppose...yes!" He raised a claw, as if pointing at the idea above his point, fluffy ears.
"The more nuts in the hoard I am to replace, the more nuts I must ask for from the owner-squirrel. Oh, and I would get to keep the extra nuts because what if everyone needs them and I am left with none!” He added. Cherry Anne let him continue… her heard turning from side to side.
“Of course - if my entire hoard of hoards was promised, and another hoard needed replacing from in-my-tree, then I’d have none left if I didn’t keep the numbers correctly. Oh that’s a me-worry. And my hollow can only fit so much! The tree has only so much capacity. The numbers wouldn’t solve-you-see…” He paused.
“Solve what sea? What does yucky salty icky water have to do with my conker, Rusty? Haha!” She said, finding it all rather amusing.
Again, Rusty chattered on, barely considering Cherry’s comment - it got waved away with a reassuring little paw. He continued…
“So I have a requirement for solve-you-see and in-my-tree - and I must make sure that your pre-me-um is the correct number of nuts." Rusty said.
"If you could see the nuts I’ll have Cherry! Oh, Cherry! It works, and so long as I ask for enough from each squirrel - the size of my hollow is all the matters, as well as the amount I keep for the solve-you-see.” He said, pointing one of his claws at the sky.
“Rusty Lloyd, you’re an unusual squirrel, always talking away to yourself about your worries. But I do believe I understand.” Cherry Anne said, hopping forward a little.
“I, Crimson and many other Reds, all give you just a little of our hoard. How many nuts depends on how much of our hoard we want to make sure doesn’t get lost forever to the ums and ahs! Our me-worries. And you, in your mighty hollow, keep the lot together. If one hoard should fail - they’ll be nuts enough to replace it! It is a clever plan, Rusty." She grinned.
“And since your hollow is only so big, you can only help squirrels until it’s full. That’s your capacity to help, isn’t it?” She added. It looked like she understood this mad scheme of her friend.
“Yes! Cherry, that’s it. And if you need me to give you some nuts that you’ve lost, I’ll give you them from in-my-tree!” He said.
“In-my-tree - I like it Rusty, I think even old Rose Alf would understand it. And he can barely peel a hazel these days”. She said.
“I have to talk to the tribe!” Said Rusty excitedly.
He and Cherry met with the Chief, Imperial Stanley, and he in turn agreed to call together all the Squirrels from the area for an important meeting in the Deer’s clearing - the one with a big pool in the middle, where the herds would slake their thirst. He chose this place because it was furthest from the eagle’s nest and the owls perch - and where the foxes daren’t tread - because of the Stag’s, you see.
To set the mood, Lloyd had made some acorn drink! A lovely draft that calmed many a Red Squirrel. It was made by dropping some browning crushed acorns into a water - preferably a puddle that formed in the barky nooks at the bottom of the great oaks. The squirrels loved this drink! Especially so because it was always warm and nutty on a cold day before winter rest.
“Tails of the High Branches, one of our tribe, Rusty Lloyd, has a clever scheme. I want you all to listen and, well, tails - I believe I shall be agreeing to it. So, unless any of you see trouble afoot - I do believe we shall be the only Reds in all this land with the rather cunning idea of in-my-tree helping us! Rusty Lloyd - the clearing, is yours…” Said Chief Imperial Stanley, skipping aside.
Rusty stood, and with the help of Cherry's support stood beside him, he explained what he could offer with his plan, in-my-tree.
He said that their hoard would be replaced if stolen by Greys, or ruined by storm, mole or badger. That they should think about these ums and ahs, think of their own me-worries. The Pre-me-um would be the amount of nuts they could spare to protect their stash - which he would need to agree to, first.
Rusty Lloyd then said he could only help the tribe until his hollow was full - and that he might ask for a few more nuts, depending on the size of their stash. So everyone’s pre-me-um could be different - otherwise, if they all asked for replacement stashes, it might not solve-you-see.
Cherry nodded along, as did Imperial - giving Rusty the confidence to proceed. He hoped the other tails got it. Then he continued.
He would keep the nuts they gave him for their pre-me-um - as otherwise the unlucky squirrel losing might not get enough nuts from the promise of in-my-tree. He promised he would use the extra nuts each year, if many were left, to share out to theirs and other tribes. (Keeping quiet he could become a little rich if no one had an um or an ah...)
Rusty finished, and looked around the clearing at the hundred or so reds that had gathered near the pool on various stretching branches. No one said anything. So he spoke up again. Aware he had one chance to make his clever plan agreeable.
“If all of us around this pool now here, do this; we shall be very much safe from the worst of the worries we have. The very worries that sent Scarlet Jenny all a fluster in seasons past! When she lost her hoard to watery flood. These are real worries and none here knows if, when or how badly they could happen. I, Rusty Lloyd will take that uncertainty away, forever!” He said, rousingly.
Still, no one stirred, not all the squirrels were as sharp as Cherry Anne - and not all knew him as well.
“What proof do I have that you have my nuts! How can I be sure you'll keep your promise?” Shouted Vermilion Ronny.
“I think I shall scratch the numbers of nuts you'll want from in-my-tree with my claw on a piece of bark. We shall make one piece each - your piece you must keep. If you need any nuts in-my-tree - you just bring that bark along and claim your share. As for my promise - well, Chief Imperial shall decide if I am doing you wrong. You can moan to him, if you will, and I shall do as he decides. Does that suffice?” Said Rusty, thinking on his claws and by his clever tail.
“It does.” Came the reply.
Swigs of acorn drink could be heard, as the squirrels relaxed - understanding Rusty’s offer better. And at that, Rusty had another great idea.
“I promise I shall not deny you. I shall be there for us all. I shall also make more acorn brew, and shall be happy to talk with you about your hoard, your me-worries, and what you need to give me as your pre-me-um.” He said, confidently, his busy tail perked up, honestly.
“I believe him!” Said one voice.
“He’s trusty, is Rusty!” Said another, slurping acorn brew.
“I shall give you this pre-me-um for this in-my-tree! You are a clever tail indeed, Rusty Lloyd!” Roared the elder, Barn Agatha.
A great clamour of squeaks rose up, and tails swished, and acorn brew was hoisted in acorn shell, sloshing over many a cup in toast.
“Then it is agreed! Henceforth, every year at this time, we of the pool, shall gather, here, to treat with Rusty Lloyd over acorn brew. He shall scratch on bark and each shall agree their pre-me-um. If any tails suffers an um or ah, they shall go to Rusty to get their in-my-tree. I shall preside in matters of disagreement." Said Imperial Stanley, the Chief, raising his own acorn brew.
"We shall be first and greatest among all the Reds!” The Chief added, raising his draught higher still.
“Be clear, my tails - let me share some wisdom? We will not rejoice when it comes to giving Rusty our nuts for his in-my-tree plan." He began again.
"For when nothing happens - as it is also want to do, we may wish we’d not given Rusty a single nut in the first. We will, whatever happens, feel a little grudge about this need. But be assured - it is not Rusty which we begrudge. Rather, it is the uncertainty of our forest, our world. I cannot say Rusty will not face our frowns - so I propose that, if this works - we as a tribe do it together?" He said, looking around.
"We do this for the Rough Nuts, the Side Leaf, the Short Tails, and all the other tribes around.” Imperial Stanley, paused.
“But better than that. With this new in-my-tree, we should treat with the Greys - making them this promise too, and perhaps finally, they will stop coming north, taking our best trees and nooks." He said, surely.
"Because we will promise to replace their lost stashes. At last - we shall be protected. And it is all, all thanks to Rusty Lloyd and his cleverest of clever ideas.” He roused the tribe to cheer and squeak once more.
As the noise of the High Branches quietened, the Chief finished, his tail straighter than any branch or iron track had ever been.
“This shall be trusty-Rusty’s place. I shall call this clever plan Lloyd’s of Long Din! The pool of pools, the promise of promises. For in-my-tree will save us all.” He said, with pride.
At that a great squirrel party erupted and went on well into the night. That is, until they heard an owl’s wavering cry, a hunting coo… And all scattered.
“I wonder how many nuts my tail is worth - should, um, old Owl catch me! Haha!” Said Cherry Anne to Rusty Lloyd, as they darted along together to their dreys.
Rusty stopped for a second, struck by another clever idea.
“Well Cherry, that’s brilliant! There are other ums for which I could promise… brilliant” He was shaken back out of his daydream by another coo, and sprinted off after Cherry.
Owl went hungry for Red Squirrels that night, and on many more thereafter - for acorn brew makes a Red very fast and sneaky indeed.
As for the High Branches, with their new cleverest of clever plans, the Greys didn't need to look for homes and forests further north - they simply gave the High Branches their pre-me-ums and now and again, took the nuts they needed as in-my-tree promises - promises always delivered.
Thus, with Lloyd's of Long Din, did the Red Squirrels stop their decline and, at last, get some much needed peace of mind.
For the forest is a tough place to live - especially for a small bushy, red squirrel.
