The next morning the discovery of a new tree in the farmer’s yard caused great surprise. At first the people were awed and afraid, and some were a little suspicious. Indeed, Snythergen had to stand very stiff and still and put on his very best tree manners to make them believe he was a real tree. He was watched so closely that he scarcely dared to breathe, and he feared the cool breeze from the lake might make him cough, for already he had[72] a slight cold from wading in the chilly water the day before. Once or twice he nearly exploded trying to hold in a sneeze. But the people on the ground saw only his top branches tossing and thought it due to an upper current of air. Then an adventurous boy began climbing his trunk, and Snythergen thought surely the little fellow would feel his heart beat. But the child only climbed higher and higher, venturing out on a high limb which Snythergen held insecurely with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. It had been difficult to support the branch alone and keep it from swaying, but with the heavy boy on it Snythergen found it almost impossible. The perspiration stood out on every bough. His left arm became so tired it pained him dreadfully, and it took all his strength to keep from dropping it to his side. He knew that he could not hold it out much longer, and yet if he let the branch drop the boy would be dashed to the ground and perhaps cruelly hurt. In spite of all he could do he was horrified to see the limb settling slowly downward and he closed his eyes to shut out the catastrophe that seemed sure to follow. Suddenly there was a cry from below.
“Get right down out of that tree,” called the[73] mother of the boy. Snythergen braced himself to hold on a moment longer, and just as the boy reached his trunk, the branch fell to his side. Snythergen breathed a prayer of thanksgiving. The child soon was safe on the ground.
Snythergen thought the people in the farmer’s yard curious and watchful, but he was mistaken. He was soon to learn what real curiosity and watchfulness are like. Some one had sent for a famous tree doctor, and he came promptly to look Snythergen over. When he appeared Snythergen put on his most correct forest behavior and really was a model tree, for the doctor’s benefit.
“I can’t see anything unusual about that tree,” said the physician, unpacking his instrument case. Snythergen was holding out his branches gracefully and letting his leaves flutter naturally in the breeze. The doctor spread his shining wood-carving tools out on a cloth on the ground. Much as the little man knew about trees, he had never learned to climb one, and the farmer had to fetch him a long ladder before he could make his examination.
When the little man had mounted well up toward the top of Snythergen he placed a fever thermometer in a knothole, which happened to lead into Snythergen’s mouth. Leaving it there[74] he descended to the ground, and wrapped a rubber bandage about his trunk, winding it so tightly that Snythergen barely avoided a cry of pain. One look at the indicator gave the tree doctor a shock.
“Sap pressure 110!” he cried. “There must be some mistake!”
Again and again he tried it and each time it registered 110.
“Surely there is something very strange here!” said the doctor. “Never have I heard of a tree with a sap pressure over 30. Why, it’s as high as the blood pressure of a boy!”
But the tree doctor was to receive another shock when he tapped Snythergen’s bark and listened with a tree stethoscope.
“Why, I didn’t think there was a tree in the world with such a violent throb. It’s as fast and strong as the heart beat of a child!”
But the greatest shock of all was to come when he climbed up to read the fever thermometer. He could hardly believe his own eyes when he saw what it registered.
“I never heard of a tree having such a temperature!” he cried. “It is as high as a boy’s.” Indeed the temperature was so much like a boy’s, the little doctor so far forgot himself as to shout:
“Stick out your tongue!”
[75]
 
“Stick out your tongue!”
 
[76]
This command took Snythergen by surprise,[77] and without thinking, he stuck his tongue out through the knothole, and when the little man saw it, he was so frightened he nearly fell from the ladder. Snythergen drew back his tongue in a hurry. The doctor puzzled and puzzled over the matter. Finally he concluded that he must have seen a squirrel’s red head.
There were so many strange things about the tree that the physician made up his mind in the interest of science to watch it day and night. He camped in a tent beside Snythergen, and only when he retired for a cat nap did he take his owl-like eyes from the tree. Even then Snythergen could not attempt to escape, or even stretch his limbs and relax, for the little man was a light sleeper and would rush out at the faintest unusual rustle of a twig.
Snythergen realized more than ever that the life of a tree is not all joy. His roots were sore and calloused from standing in one position. A leg or an arm would go to sleep because he dared not move it. He was numb all over, besides being cold, tired and hungry. He gazed longingly into the dining room. His mouth watered and he swallowed hard at the sight of the rich home cooking. How eagerly would he[78] have eaten the crusts the farmer’s little boy tried to hide under the edge of his plate! How he would have enjoyed taking the heaping plate of his tormentor, the little doctor, when the latter’s back was turned! But usually the window was closed, or some one was looking.
All the next morning Snythergen watched impatiently for Squeaky to appear on the opposite shore of the lake. He wondered why Sancho Wing did not come, but he could not know that Sancho was spending all of his time keeping track of the bear, who was in a revengeful mood and very restless. The ice had given him mental chilblains and the pain served as a reminder, making him more determined than ever to find and punish his persecutors.
About eleven o’clock Snythergen thought he saw a little movement in the bushes along the opposite shore of the lake. Then he recognized Squeaky’s peculiar wobbling walk. So delighted was he that he forgot the little doctor, and waved his branches excitedly. Squeaky answered. Snythergen signaled back that he was hungry and wanted some bread and butter with sugar on it—not an easy message for a tree to wave to a pig all the way across ............