rd the news--for he knew what the birds were telling one
another--he hurried along joyfully. _He_ was not afraid of Mr. Hawk.
Mr. Hawk was the very person he was looking for.

"Hello, you old ruffian!" Frisky called, as soon as he spied Mr. Hawk.
It certainly was a very impolite thing to say, even if it _was_ true.

Mr. Hawk turned his cruel eyes upon Frisky Squirrel and then he dashed
toward him as fast as he knew how. He dropped down like lightning from
his high perch, and Frisky had to dodge quickly to escape him; but
that was part of the fun.

Frisky Squirrel laughed as Mr. Hawk went sailing by him. And then
something happened--something Frisky was not expecting. He heard a rush
through the air, and a nervous little wren screamed to him to look
out. Frisky didn't know what the trouble was; but he gave a great leap
to one side.

He was just in time. He had hardly left the limb to which he had been
clinging when Mr. Hawk's wife went coursing past. You see, Mr. Hawk
had made up his mind that he was going to catch Frisky Squirrel, even
if he had to bring Mrs. Hawk along to help him.

VII

A Brave Little Bird

It was not long before Frisky Squirrel began to see that he had got
himself into something very like a fix. It had been fairly easy to
dodge Mr. Hawk alone. But things were quite different now. Mr. Hawk
would come hurtling down upon him from one direction; and Mrs. Hawk
would swoop down upon him from another. It was all very confusing,
because Frisky could not watch both of them at once.

He called to his mother, because he began to be frightened. But Mrs.
Squirrel was not at home. Frisky did not know what to do. He tried to
reach his home in the big hickory tree near-by; but Mr. and Mrs. Hawk
wouldn't let him go near it. And when he felt one of Mr. Hawk's sharp
talons dig into his back Frisky thought that his end had come. But he
escaped that time, though Mrs. Hawk nearly caught him just two seconds
later.

I am afraid _The Tale of Frisky Squirrel_ would have ended right here,
if somebody had not come to Frisky's help. Fortunately, there was a
small, olive-green bird who lived with his wife not far from Frisky
Squirrel's home. Mr. Kinglet was his name. And though he was a tiny
fellow he had a heart like a lion's. I suppose that in all the country
around Blue Mountain there was no braver fellow than he. And his wife
was brave too. Although they both wore very dull-colored clothes, if
you took a