TRUE CAMPFIRE STORIES

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Proprietor
Glenn Pamfiloff


"All stories told around a campfire are true!"


"This True Story Was First Told Around a Campfire"

TRUE CAMPFIRE STORY #9

TALE OF THE ANGRY CHIPMUNK

 
Many, many years ago, when children believed in fairies, and baseball was a sport, and football was just fun, and we didn't know what steroids were, Roger and I would search the greater Sierras for that most elusive object; the BIG fish.

We heard the stories and headed for the latest rumors of big fish. One of these quests took us to Davis Lake, in the Feather River Basin. We explored the lake's back roads, searching for a private spot that we always preferred, but reluctantly ended up in a US Forest Campground; a rare and almost unique experience for these seekers of nature's gifts.

We set up camp, got the aluminum boat into the water and stealthily began our quest for big fish. Having little luck, we turned to our quest for good food; this we accomplished with little effort.

Fishing, usually being a profitable venture in the early mornings or early evenings, left us with much time during midday to explore other leisures. One of these pastimes was football; not real football, but a plastic football on a plastic board, with plastic dice, and team cards that gave us the results upon each throw of the dice. We had worked this game and our competition into a frenzy and developed leagues in both the Pro and College ranks.

Now, at Davis Lake, on a heavy US Forest picnic table, we began a marathon of football competition; only missing the cheerleaders to heighten the drama. As we played our games, we snacked on nuts, chips, and sunflower seeds, and then we noticed this most friendly chipmunk. Although he was cautious and often darted into nearby holes in the ground, he came closer and closer, seemingly curious about our fanatical concentration on these plastic objects between us.

Loving nature and wildlife, we threw some nuts and chips into our new friend’s direction. Being a very smart chipmunk, he would gather up as many of these morsels as his little cheeks could hold, run down a nearby hole, and return with his skinny face ready to be filled again.

Chipmunk

He must have realized that these scraps thrown towards him had a source, and he was soon on the table, examining the jars, bags, and bowls of bounty. For three days, he never left our side, except to stash away his prizes, or chase away other chipmunks that wanted to partake in the bounty. He would sit on our shoulders, as if to advise us on the best choice for each play. He would go down to our plastic football field and move out little plastic football in the direction he thought was most appropriate. If we pushed him aside, he would soundly berate us in his chattery little voice. We held him; we petted him, and gave him free reign to explore all. He ate out of our plates, our bowls, and our bags; and drank from our cups.

Now, dear reader, you might question why the title of this tale is 'The Angry Chipmunk', when this little fellow seemed to be the most friendly chipmunk. Well, it was the tests of his trust that we presented him with that decided upon the title. I was wearing a US Army fatigue shirt with large buttoned pockets; inside my left pocket I kept a large supply of sunflower seeds. Our little friend, being aware of this stash, decided to explore the inside of my pocket. He crawled down my shoulder and went into the pocket; I closed it and buttoned it up. Surprisingly, he didn't seem to panic, but he went about his business of filling his cheeks. Then, in an obviously agitated voice, he demanded his release. I undid the button and he scurried out onto the table. He looked at me, puffy cheeks and all, and screamed at me for 2 or 3 minutes; I felt as if he was shaking a finger at me. Having had his say, he rushed down one of his nearby holes, and shortly returned with his skinny face.

Another test for our little friend was the last sunflower seed in the long skinny bag. We left just one seed at the bottom of this 8" x 2" bag, and opened it up so it was like a little tunnel. Our little chattery friend decided that he needed that one last sunflower seed and proceeded to squeeze his way into the bag. Once he was sufficiently inside, I picked up the bag and closed off the opening. Well, this time he seemed to panic; he squirmed and clawed and struggled to get free. Although I only held him captive for a few seconds, once I released him, he sat on the table, yelling at us for minutes; he was angry!

But, a most amazing thing had occurred; the one sunflower seed that had been in the bottom of the bag was now gone! During his panic he never forgot his goal; get the sunflower seed.

We could all learn something from our little friendly-angry chipmunk; make friends, stand up for your rights, but always remember your goal. It could come in handy during a cold winter!

Note: A year or two after this adventure, we returned to the same camping spot; we never found our little friend, but he is often mentioned when Roger and I sit around a campfire.

Copyright 2004, Carport's True Stories
Reproduction for noncommercial uses only is acceptable


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