Ignatius
followed the squirrel’s direction and reached the stream—it was so clear and
clean and blue, and Ignatius felt relief and peace of mind settle over him upon
seeing it. It had been only a day since he last had water to drink, but it seemed
to him like a year. But the squirrel was Ignatius’ first concern. He set him
down gently on the water’s edge, gathered some water in his cupped hands, and
held it out for the squirrel. “Can you drink?” he asked the squirrel.
The squirrel’s eyes lit up as if
Ignatius were holding precious jewels or a bag of gold. He eagerly lapped it
up, and once he was finished, Ignatius took hold of his wounded tail, unbound
it, and began cleaning off the wound. He alternated, gathering water for the
squirrel to drink and gathering some to use for cleaning the wound. The
squirrel began to feel refreshed, and the coolness of the water dulled the pain
of the wound. “Th…thank you! Th….thank you! Th…thank you…sir!” he cried over
and over again, feeling giddy despite his continuing weakness.
“Don’t speak,” Ignatius said, shaking
his head. “Save your strength.” Then he re-bound the wound, set the squirrel
down in a soft patch of grass, and began drinking from the stream. The fresh,
cool water was such a relief to him that he let out a cry of joy as he drank. When
he was finished, he felt completely restored and nearly forgot about the despair
he had felt the night before, as if it had happened a very long time ago. He
returned to the squirrel, which was sleeping soundly in the soft patch of
grass. He stayed by his side, occasionally cleaning and re-dressing the wound,
until finally the squirrel woke up and let out a joyful cry.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you so
very much, sir!” the squirrel cried. “You have brought my strength back to me,
and for that I cannot thank you enough. But if there is but one more thing you
are willing to do for me, then you shall be hailed as a hero among the last
survivors of my family.”
“I am willing to do whatever it is
you call upon me to do,” Ignatius said, “but I do not think I ought to be
hailed as a hero for it.”
“You must slay the wolf that wounded
my tail,” the squirrel said, “for he has been tormenting my family for years
and years. He has killed each one of my family members, and now only my wife
and my mother are left. But I fear that since he was unable to get me, he will
go after my wife, who is carrying my children. He is an evil creature, who goes
after us for the fun of it and nothing more, and did away with each of my
family members with a smile on his face. He will not stop until we are all
dead. Sir, we are in grave danger for as long as he continues to live.”
Ignatius did not have his sword, and
he did not have his armor. He wasn’t sure how he could possibly slay a wolf
without a sword, and surely a wolf as vicious as that would maul him to death
in the attempt. But he would not let himself decline. He said, “Show me where
this wolf is located, and I will make my best attempt to do away with him.”
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