Story

The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin

15 minAges 7-9

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The story

Introduction

Have you ever met a squirrel who just couldn't keep quiet? One who loved to ask tricky questions, even when he really shouldn't? Well, today we’re off to a little island, right in the middle of a sparkling blue lake. It's autumn, and the hazelnuts are ripe for gathering! But there's a very old, very wise owl who lives there, and a rather cheeky squirrel named Nutkin who's about to learn a big lesson. Join us for a tale of riddles, nuts, and a very surprising escape.

The Journey to Owl Island

So, early one crisp autumn morning, a whole group of little squirrels gathered by the edge of the lake. There were Squirrel Nutkin and his twin brother, Twinkleberry, along with their eleven cousins, and even a little field mouse! They had a tiny raft, all made of twigs and leaves, and they piled onto it, ready for their adventure. Each little animal brought a special gift for the wise old owl who lived on the island, called Old Brown. Nutkin’s family had brought a whole basket of juicy red strawberries, and some of the other squirrels had lovely bits of honey. These were offerings, you see, to ask Old Brown’s permission to gather nuts on his island. Slowly, the little raft drifted across the calm blue water. The sun glittered on the ripples, and a gentle breeze whispered through the reeds. When they finally reached the island, it looked just like a big, green plum pudding floating in the water. And right in the very centre, stood Old Brown’s grand, old oak tree, with its cosy, dark door. They were finally here!

Nutkin's Persistent Riddles

The little squirrels scurried and scampered, gathering gifts for Old Brown. They collected nuts, berries, and shiny red apples, laying each carefully chosen treat before his cozy, dark door. It was important to be polite and bring the old owl a present. But not little Nutkin! Nutkin was a peculiar squirrel. While the others gathered treasures, he just sat, twiddling his paws, looking pleased. He had no gift for Old Brown! When it was his turn, Nutkin bounced to the door. Instead of a gift, he bowed very low and piped up, “C-c-c-crack-me-nut! Riddle-me-riddle-me-ree! How many nuts are in the tree?” Old Brown, the patient, wise owl, just blinked his big, yellow eyes. He didn't answer, waiting for his proper gift. But Nutkin wasn't discouraged. He hopped about and asked another! “Riddle-me, riddle-me-ree, if I had it in my hand, I would throw it away. If I had it not, I would carry it away. What is it?” Still, Old Brown remained silent, his feathers ruffled. This wasn't the usual offering. But Nutkin, full of beans, just loved riddles. “What has an eye, but cannot see?” he chirped! Now, Old Brown's patience was wearing thin. He let out a soft 'Hoo-hoo' that sounded like a grumble. But Nutkin thought Old Brown was enjoying his cleverness! So, Nutkin asked another, even cheekier, riddle. “As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives; Every wife had seven sacks; Every sack had seven cats; Every cat had seven kits: Kits, cats, sacks, and wives, How many were there going to St. Ives?” Old Brown, deep inside his cozy oak tree, gave a little hoot. It wasn't a happy hoot. It was more of a… “Hoo-HOOOO!” a sound that meant his patience was nearly gone. He was thinking about a very small, very cheeky squirrel.

A Day Too Far

Another morning dawned over Owl Island. The other squirrels, Twinkleberry and Bushy-tail, scurried about, glancing nervously towards Professor Old Brown’s hollow tree. They knew what was coming. Moments later, out popped Squirrel Nutkin! A plump acorn clutched in his paws, tail twitching, he rapped politely on Professor Old Brown's door. “Good morning, Professor!” he chirped when Old Brown’s yellow eyes peered out. “A splendid breakfast! A fine, fat acorn, freshly gathered!” Professor Old Brown blinked, taking the acorn gently. Nutkin puffed out his chest. “Now, Professor, for my riddle!” he declared. “I have a head and a tail, but no body. What am I?” Old Brown tilted his head. Then, with a soft 'whoosh', he hooted, “A coin, little squirrel. That’s a coin!” Nutkin clapped. “You got it! Oh, you’re so clever! See you tomorrow!” He scampered off. This went on for many days. Each morning, Nutkin brought a gift and always, always, a riddle. One day, he arrived with a particularly large, shiny chestnut. “Professor Old Brown! I have something to puzzle your magnificent brain! What is full of holes but still holds water?” Old Brown’s feathers ruffled. He took the chestnut, his eyes narrowing. “A sponge,” he hooted, a little more sharply. He didn’t wait for applause. Twinkleberry and Bushy-tail watched, worried. “Nutkin should stop,” whispered Twinkleberry. “Professor Old Brown’s eyes are looking very, very yellow.” Bushy-tail trembled. “Yes, he’s getting cross. Very, very cross.” But Nutkin didn't notice. He thought it was a lovely game! Then came *the* day. The day that was a day too far. It was a breezy morning. Nutkin bounced up to Professor Old Brown’s door with a tiny, perfect toadstool. “Professor!” he sang. “A lovely morning, isn’t it?” Old Brown emerged slowly. His eyes weren't just yellow; they had a distinct orange glow. His feathers looked spikier. He took the toadstool, but didn't truly see it. Nutkin, oblivious, puffed himself up. “Alright, Professor, listen carefully! What has an eye but cannot see?” Professor Old Brown stared. The silence stretched, long and thin. Nutkin waited, head cocked, a cheeky grin on his face. He expected Old Brown to hoot “A needle!” But Professor Old Brown did not hoot “A needle!” Instead, a low, rumbling sound began to emerge from deep within his chest. “Nutkin,” Old Brown hooted, his voice deep and slow, “I have had enough of your riddles.” Nutkin gulped. His grin vanished. “Every single day,” Old Brown continued, his voice rising, “you bring me a tiny gift and then you ask me a silly question! My head aches with riddles! My ears are tired of your chirping! And today… today, you ask me about an eye that cannot see?!” Nutkin started to back away. His tail drooped. “I am an owl!” Professor Old Brown roared, his feathers bristling. “I have TWO eyes! And I can see PERFECTLY well! And I can see a very, very cheeky squirrel who has tested my patience one day TOO FAR!” With a mighty, whooshing flap of his enormous wings, Professor Old Brown burst out of his hollow tree! He was no longer a patient, riddle-solving owl. He was a very, very cross owl, and he was after Squirrel Nutkin! Nutkin squeaked! He had never seen Professor Old Brown move so fast! “Eeeeeeek!” cried Nutkin, and he turned tail and ran faster than he had ever run in his whole life! He darted between trees, zipped under bushes, scrambled over roots. Professor Old Brown was right behind him, his huge wings beating the air, creating a powerful breeze that ruffled Nutkin’s fur. Nutkin could feel the whoosh of air as the owl swooped close, hear the snap of his beak as he missed by just an inch! This was no longer a game. This was a chase! And Squirrel Nutkin was suddenly very, very frightened. He wished he had never thought of a single riddle. He wished he had just brought his nuts and left Professor Old Brown in peace. But it was too late! Professor Old Brown swooped lower and lower, his yellow eyes blazing. Nutkin could almost feel the heat of his breath. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! What was a little squirrel to do? He needed a very, very clever plan. And he needed it right now!

The Great Escape

Old Brown, the wise old owl, blinked his enormous yellow eyes. He had caught poor Nutkin's tail! "No more riddles for you, little squirrel," hooted Old Brown, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. Nutkin shivered. This was far scarier than he'd imagined! He wriggled, but Old Brown's grip was firm around his precious tail. What *could* he do? His friends were halfway across the lake, safe on the mainland. It was just Nutkin and the very hungry, very serious Old Brown. The hollow tree felt thick with tension, filled with the scent of owl feathers. Nutkin looked up at the owl's sharp, curved beak, now closer. "Please, Mr. Brown," squeaked Nutkin, "just one more riddle? A very, very short one? I promise!" Old Brown considered. He did enjoy riddles when not too grumpy. "Very well," hooted the owl, his voice a low rumble, "but make it quick, young squirrel. My patience is thin, and my stomach rumbles." Nutkin took a deep breath. His little heart beat like a drum. He knew this had to be his cleverest riddle, his last chance. "I have cities, but no houses," began Nutkin, his voice a little shaky, "forests, but no trees, and water, but no fish. What am I?" Old Brown tilted his head, his enormous eyes focusing on Nutkin. "Hmm," he hooted thoughtfully. "Is it a dream? Or a grand story?" "No, no!" chattered Nutkin, "You're getting warmer, Mr. Brown! Think where we are! Something you can fold up and put in your pocket!" Old Brown pondered deeply. He looked at the tree floor, then out at the misty lake. Then, a glimmer of understanding lit his big yellow eyes. "Is it... a map?" he hooted,. "Exactly!" cried Nutkin, "It's a map!" As Old Brown felt pleased with his own cleverness, he loosened his grip just a tiny bit, for a moment of pride. That was all Nutkin needed. With a mighty, desperate tug, Nutkin pulled with all his might! He twisted and turned, using every ounce of squirrelly strength! *Pop!* His tail came loose from Old Brown's grasp. But alas, a small, fluffy tuft of his beautiful, bushy tail was left behind, a tiny trophy clutched in the owl's powerful claw. Nutkin didn't stop. He scrambled down the rough oak tree, his little paws flying. He darted between gnarled roots, then sprinted across the mossy ground towards the water's edge, his heart thumping. Old Brown, surprised and furious, let out an enormous, frustrated hoot! "Come back, you cheeky fellow!" he screeched, launching himself from his branch, his great wings beating the air. Nutkin could hear the rush of wings, closer and closer. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the owl's huge shadow racing towards him. His heart hammered. He remembered the little raft. He reached the shore, his tiny legs aching. The sturdy branch raft bobbed gently, still tied to a willow. Nutkin didn't hesitate. He gnawed frantically at the rope with his sharp teeth. The rope was tough, but Nutkin was utterly determined. He felt the air stir powerfully above him as Old Brown descended, talons outstretched. The shadow grew larger, darker, menacing. *Snap!* The rope broke! Nutkin, with a burst of adrenaline, leapt onto the raft just as Old Brown's shadow fell completely over him. The owl's fearsome talons scraped against the rough bark where Nutkin had been just a split second before, missing him by mere whiskers! Nutkin pushed off from the bank, sending the raft gliding swiftly into the cool water. He immediately started paddling furiously, steering towards the distant mainland. Old Brown circled once, twice, above him, hooting angrily. But owls don't like getting wet, and the water was wide and cold. He watched Nutkin go, a very cross, bewildered expression on his feathery face. Nutkin kept paddling, his muscles burning, not daring to look back until he was truly out of reach. The mainland, with its welcoming trees and the chatter of his relieved friends, looked far away, but he kept going. Stroke after stroke, his little raft cut through the calm, grey water. He was safe. He had escaped. He looked at his tail. It was still bushy and beautiful, but now, right at the very tip, there was a little stump, a bare patch where Old Brown had taken a bite. It was a permanent reminder of his great escape. When Nutkin finally reached the other side, his friends rushed to greet him. They chattered with relief and awe. Nutkin was tired, truly exhausted, but very proud. From that day forward, Squirrel Nutkin was a changed squirrel. He still loved a good riddle, and he was still a cheeky fellow, but he never, ever teased Old Brown again. He had learned an important lesson: it's fun to be clever, but teasing can get you into a lot of trouble! His lucky escape and the bob on his tail served as a constant reminder, a small price for a big lesson. He was Squirrel Nutkin, with a bit less tail, and a lot more wisdom. He realised that kindness and respect were much better than being a nuisance. And that, dear listeners, was the end of Nutkin's adventures on Owl Island. He lived happily ever after, a little wiser, and a little less cheeky, but still full of fun.

Outro

And so, Squirrel Nutkin learned his lesson, but never lost his spark! Thank you for listening to his delightful tale with us today. We really hope you enjoyed following his adventure. If you have any thoughts, please do let Sonacasts know – we love to hear from you! Why not imagine your own woodland stories now? Until next time, keep exploring, keep dreaming, and have a truly wonderful day!