Squirrels aren't known for their appreciation of loud noises.  In fact,
the safest noise for a squirrel is silence.

   In the back of the Altima, Chit dug into his bedroll, trying to pull it
over his ears.  Anything that sounded like the cry of a wounded animal
definitely made it hard for a squirrel to sleep.

   "Trayyyy-lers, for sale or rent!  Dah-dah, dah-dah, heaven-sent!  I'm
a -- mahh-ahn of means by *no* means..."

   If there wasn't music in the background, Chit would have sworn that
Remus was being tortured.  The worst part was that he used to *like* this 
song.

   "King of the roahhhh-oad!"

   "Do you see what you're doing?  You're singing along to a BURGER
COMMERCIAL!"

   "Yeah, well, it keeps me awake.  This is boring driving."

   "Please stop," Chit chattered softly. "Now."

   "Driving?  Or singing?"

   Glowering, Chit flicked his tail irritably.  "You play stupid on purpose
a lot, don't you?"

   Remus ignored that, grinning.  "Actually," he said, pulling the Altima 
onto the grassy shoulder, "Now that you're awake, we might as well stop 
here...

   "There's a signal somewhere near Lakes Road, which we've been on for
about half an hour," he said, holding the map on the passenger's seat up 
for the squirrel to see.  "I cut south at Hiawatha Lake, but we overshot
it.  The source is in the woods...somewhere along Elkhorn creek."

   "We can't get any closer?"

   "There just aren't that many roads around here.  The river's only a few
miles long...we'll hike it," the man said with a smile.  "Get your gear."

   "I've got *my* gear," muttered Chit, checking that his 'birthday presents'
were firmly secured.  His pack? Nah, it was only a few miles.  A few miles 
that would go much quicker if he wasn't sinking through the snow with every 
step.  He looked out of the windows into the rows of aspen.  "Hope you 
brought your hiking shoes."

...                                                                ...
Remus Shepherd   (remus@netcom.com) and Chit.