Demon Box

"I'll run," says the woodchuck, glaring his most glittering glare.

"I can run too-oo," says the bear, glaring back with a grin that turns poor Charlie's glitter to gloom. Charlie meets the bear's blistering stare a couple ticks more, then out from under the covers he springs and out acrost the bottom he tears, ears laid low tail hoisted high and little feet hitting the ground sixty-six steps a second… fast!

But the big old bear with his big old feet merely takes one! two! three! double-big steps, and takes Charlie over, and snags him up, and swallers him down, hair hide and all.

High up in his hole Tricker blinks his eyes in amazement. "Yep," he has to allow, "that booger truly can run."

The bear then walks down the hill to the big granite boulder by the creek where Longrellers the Rabbit lived. He listens a moment, his ear to the stone, then lifts one of those size fifty feet as high as his double-big legs can hoist it, lifted like a huge hairy piledriver, and with one stomp turns poor Longrellers's granite fortress into a sandpile all over the rabbit's breakfast table.

"You Ozark clodhopper!" Longrellers squeals, trying to dig the sand out of one of his long ears with a wild parsnip. "This is my breakfast, not yours. You got a nerve, come stomping down here into our Bottom, busting up our property and privacy, when this aint even your stomping grounds!"

"I hate to tell you, cousin, but I'm BIG DOUBLE and ALLLL the ground I stomp is mine. I ate the high hills BARE and the foothills CLEAN. I ate the woodchuck that run and now I'm going to EAT! YOU! UP!"

"I'll run," says the rabbit.

"I can run too-oo," says the bear.

"I'll jump," says the rabbit.

"I can jump too-oo," says the bear, gri

But the big old bear with the big old legs springs after him like a flock of rocketships roaring, and takes the rabbit over at the peak of his jump, and snags him up, and swallers him down, ears elbows and everything.

"Good as his word the big bum can certainly jump," admits Tricker, watching bug-eyed from his high bedroom window.

Next, the bear goes down to where Whittier Crick is dribbling drowsy by. He grabs the crick by its bank and, with one wicked snap, snaps it like a bedspread. This snaps Sally Snipsister the Martin clear out of her mudburrow boudoir and her toenail polish, summersetting her into the air, then lands her hard in the emptied creekbed along with stu

"You backwoods bully!" Sally hisses. "You ridgeru

"Why, ma'am, I'm Big Double and ANY puddle I please to play in is mine. I ate the ridges raw and the backwoods bald. I ate the woodchuck and I ate the rabbit. And now I'm going to EAT! YOU! UP!"

"I'll run," says the martin.

"I can run, too-oo," says the bear.

"I'll jump," says the martin.

"I can jump too-oo," says the bear.

"I'll climb," says the martin.

"I can climb, too-oo," says the bear, and champs his big yellow choppers into a challenging chomp. Sally clicks back at him with her sharp little molars for a tick or two, then off! she shoots like the bullet out of a pistol. But right after her booms the bear like a meteor out of a ca

And then, it so happens, while the big bear is hugging the tree and licking his lips, he sees! that he is eye-to-eye with a little hole, that is none other than the door, of the bedroom, of Tricker the Squirrel.

"Yessiree bob," Tricker has to concede. "You also can sure as shooting climb."

"WHO are YOU?" roars the bear.

"I'm Tricker the Squirrel, and I saw it all. And there's just no two ways about it: I'm impressed – you may have been a little shortchanged in the thinking department but when it comes to ru

"And EAT!" roars the bear into the hole, "I'm BIG DOUBLE and I ate -"

"I know, I know," says Tricker, his fingers in his ears. "The ridges raw and the hills whole. I heard it all, too."

"NOW I'm going to EAT -"

"Go

"And I'm go

"Then I'm go

"And I'm go

"Then I'm go

"And I'm go

"Then I'm go

"And I'm go

"And then," says Tricker, smiling and winking and plucking at one of his longest whiskers dainty as a riverboat gambler with a sleeve full of secrets, "I'm going to fly!"

This bamboozles the bear, and for a second he furrows his big brow. But everybody – even shortchanged grizzerly bears named Big Double – knows red squirrels can't fly – not even red squirrels named Tricker.

"Wellthen," says the bear, gri

"We'll see-ee about that," says Tricker and, without a word or wink more, reaches over to jerk the bear's whisker clean out. UhROAWRRR! roars the bear and makes a nab, but Tricker is out the hole and streaking down the treetrunk like a bolt of greased lightning with the bear thundering behind him, meaner and madder than ever. Tricker streaks across the Bottom toward the Topple farm with the bear storming right on his tail. When he reaches the milkhouse where Farmer Topple cools his dairy products he jumps right through the window. The bear jumps right through after him. Tricker hops up on the edge of a gallon crock and begins to guzzle up the cool, thick buttermilk like he hadn't had a sip of liquid for a month.

The bear knocks him aside and picks up the whole crock and sucks it down like he was a seven-year drought.

Tricker then hops up to the rim of the five-gallon crock and starts to lap up the buttermilk.

But the bear knocks him aside again, and hefts the crock and guzzles it down.

Tricker doesn't even bother hopping to the brim of the last crock, a ten-galloner. He just stands back dodging the drops while the bear heaves the vessel high, tips it up and gradually guzzles it empty.

The bear finally plunks down the last crock, wipes his chops and roars, "I'm BIG DOUBLE and I ate the HIGH HILLS -"

"I know, I know," says Tricker, wincing. "Let's skip the roaring and get right on to the last part. After I run, and jump, and drink buttermilk, then I climb."

"I climb too-erp," says the bear, belching.

"And I fly," says Tricker.

"And I fly too-up," says the bear, hiccupping.