Ribburta and the Mighty Mysterious Squirrel Affair

Ribburta the frog’s best friend was a squirrel named Redd. One day, as Ribburta was sitting in the long grass by the pond, soaking up the autumn sunshine, Redd came bounding over.

“It’s so exciting!” he squeaked, as he ran around in circles and jumped over her head.

“What’s so exciting?” asked Ribburta. “Redd! Calm down and TELL ME!”

“Well!” he said. “You know the hollow log, halfway between my tree and your pond? Guess who’s moved into it? A fortuneteller, that’s who! Her name is Delores Lee Happy and she can see the future!”

Not everybody knows this, but squirrels are crazy about fortunetellers. There’s just something about dangly earrings, a floaty scarf, and a crystal ball that makes all the squirrels within ten miles flap their fluffy tails and cry, “Me first!”

Ribburta didn’t really believe in fortunetellers, but she didn’t want to hurt her friend’s feelings. So when he said, “Let’s go and see her!” she said, “O.K.!”

It wasn’t far to the hollow log. A large crowd of squirrels had gathered to find out about the future. And at this time of the year, they all had the same question: “Have I hidden enough nuts to last the winter?”

Standing in front of the log was a muscle-bound guard squirrel. He glared at Redd and Ribburta. “No kids,” he grunted. “And definitely no frogs.”

Just then Mrs. Hazel came out of the log and blinked in the bright sunlight.

“Send in the next one, Reginald!” called a mystical voice.

The crowd went, “Ooooo!” and Mr. Oak rushed in for his turn.

“What was it like?” Redd asked Mrs. Hazel, his tail shaking with excitement.

Mrs. Hazel looked puzzled. “You know, I don’t quite remember. Though I’m pretty sure we talked about nuts.” Then she wandered off.

“Weird!” said Ribburta. “What do you think goes on in there?”

“I don’t know,” said Redd. “But I know how to find out!” He dragged Ribburta around to the side of the log. “Look — there’s a hole,” he whispered. “We can see in!”

They peered inside the log. There, wearing a floaty scarf and dangly earrings, was Delores Lee Happy. She waved her paws mystically.

“Look deep, deep into the Crystal Ball,” she murmured. “Deep...deep…”

And as she fluttered her paws, they saw Mr. Oak’s eyes start to glaze over.

“Deep... deep...” he said in a faraway voice.

“When you hear this sound —” Delores gave a long, low-pitched whistle — “you will do as I say....”

“I will do as you say,” said Mr. Oak.

“You will get out of bed and show me where you’ve hidden your store of nuts…”

“My store of nuts,” murmured Mr. Oak.

“When you hear this sound” — she gave a short, high-pitched whistle — “you will go back to bed and remember nothing.”

“WHAT?!” gasped Ribburta and Redd.

“Hey, you kids — scram!”

It was Reginald, the big guard squirrel.

“Yikes!” squeaked Ribburta and Redd — and quick as a blink, they scrammed, all the way back to Ribburta’s pond.

“This is awful!” cried Ribburta. She threw herself down in the long grass, panting. “We’ve got to tell somebody!”

But Redd shook his head. “Nobody would believe us.”

“Then we’ll just have to stop her!” declared Ribburta. You could almost hear her froggy brain going into overdrive.

“I know! We’ll wait until she whistles the squirrels out of their trees — and then we’ll whistle them back home!”

“That’s brilliant!” said Redd. “You’re a genius!”

And immediately the two friends tried to whistle.

PLETHTHTHTH!

All they managed to do was splutter spit!

“I guess it’s my big wide mouth,” said Ribburta.

“I guess it’s my wonky tooth,” said Redd. “My mom says it’ll be fine by the time I’m grown.”

But Ribburta wasn’t listening. She was staring down at the long, green grass. She picked a blade and put it between her thumbs.

“We may not be able to whistle,” she said with a grin, “but I do believe grass can!”

As darkness fell, Delores and Reginald came out of the hollow log.

“Time to get nuts!” she greedily announced, and they puckered up their lips.

The woods were soon filled with the sound of their long, low whistles. Sleepwalking squirrels stumbled out of their nests and, eyes shut tight, headed for their hidden stores of nuts.

“It’s working!” gloated Delores. “We’ll get every last nut!”

But then something spooky happened. From one side and then another, they heard short, high-pitched whistles. Suddenly all the hypnotized squirrels turned around and headed back to bed.

“Reginald! What are you doing?” Delores shrieked.

“It ain’t me!” protested Reginald. “It’s... it must be... Phantom Whistlers!”

The two squirrels looked at each other in horror — and then Reginald ran away as fast as his paws would take him! But Delores was made of stronger stuff.

“No Phantom Whistlers are getting my nuts!” she muttered.

She whistled her longest, lowest whistles all over the woods, but before any hidden nut stores could be revealed, a high-pitched whistle would echo right back.

Delores whistled till her pucker was sore and her throat was dry — and not one nut did she find!

The next morning, the hollow log was empty again. The grown-up squirrels awoke to find themselves strangely weary, with mud on their paws and twigs in their fur. They couldn’t imagine why!

But the Phantom Whistlers knew the answer.

“Though they’d never believe it if we told them!” said Redd the squirrel. And then his eyes glazed over. “Oooo, Ribburta — I can see something — I can see into the future! I can see that, because of our quick thinking and some grass whistles, there will be enough nuts to last the winter!”

“Now that, I can believe!” said Ribburta the frog.