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diff --git a/old/wwmou10.txt b/old/wwmou10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..295a18d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/wwmou10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2493 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Whitefoot the Wood Mouse +by Thornton W. Burgess +(#7 in our series by Thornton W. Burgess) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg file. + +Please do not remove this header information. + +This header should be the first thing seen when anyone starts to +view the eBook. 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Burgess + +Release Date: November, 2003 [EBook #4698] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on March 3, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Whitefoot the Wood Mouse +by Thornton W. Burgess +******This file should be named wwmou10.txt or wwmou10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, wwmou11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, wwmou10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +The "legal small print" and other information about this book +may now be found at the end of this file. Please read this +important information, as it gives you specific rights and +tells you about restrictions in how the file may be used. + +*** +This etext was produced by Kent Fielden. + +WHITEFOOT THE WOOD MOUSE + +BY THORNTON W. BURGESS + +CHAPTER I: Whitefoot Spends A Happy Winter + +In all his short life Whitefoot the Wood Mouse never had spent such +a happy winter. Whitefoot is one of those wise little people who +never allow unpleasant things of the past to spoil their present +happiness, and who never borrow trouble from the future. +Whitefoot believes in getting the most from the present. The things +which are past are past, and that is all there is to it. There is +no use in thinking about them. As for the things of the future, +it will be time enough to think about them when they happen. + +If you and I had as many things to worry about as does Whitefoot the +Wood Mouse, we probably never would be happy at all. But Whitefoot +is happy whenever he has a chance to be, and in this he is wiser +than most human beings. You see, there is not one of all the little +people in the Green Forest who has so many enemies to watch out for +as has Whitefoot. There are ever so many who would like nothing +better than to dine on plump little Whitefoot. There are Buster +Bear and Billy Mink and Shadow the Weasel and Unc' Billy Possum and +Hooty the Owl and all the members of the Hawk family, not to mention +Blacky the Crow in times when other food is scarce. Reddy and +Granny Fox and Old Man Coyote are always looking for him. + +So you see Whitefoot never knows at what instant he may have to run +for his life. That is why he is such a timid little fellow and is +always running away at the least little unexpected sound. In spite +of all this he is a happy little chap. + +It was early in the winter that Whitefoot found a little hole in a +corner of Farmer Brown's sugar-house and crept inside to see what it +was like in there. It didn't take him long to decide that it was +the most delightful place he ever had found. He promptly decided to +move in and spend the winter. In one end of the sugar-house was +a pile of wood. Down under this Whitefoot made himself a warm, +comfortable nest. It was a regular castle to Whitefoot. He moved +over to it the store of seeds he had laid up for winter use. + +Not one of his enemies ever thought of visiting the sugar-house in +search of Whitefoot, and they wouldn't have been able to get in if +they had. When rough Brother North Wind howled outside, and sleet +and snow were making other little people shiver, Whitefoot was warm +and comfortable. There was all the room he needed or wanted in +which to run about and play. He could go outside when he chose to, +but he didn't choose to very often. For days at a time he didn't +have a single fright. Yes indeed, Whitefoot spent a happy winter. + + + +CHAPTER II: Whitefoot Sees Queer Things + +Whitefoot had spent the winter undisturbed in Farmer Brown's +sugar-house. He had almost forgotten the meaning of fear. He had +come to look on that sugar-house as belonging to him. It wasn't +until Farmer Brown's boy came over to prepare things for sugaring +that Whitefoot got a single real fright. The instant Farmer Brown's +boy opened the door, Whitefoot scampered down under the pile of wood +to his snug little nest, and there he lay, listening to the strange +sounds. At last he could stand it no longer and crept to a place +where he could peep out and see what was going on. It didn't take +him long to discover that this great two-legged creature was not +looking for him, and right away he felt better. After a while +Farmer Brown's boy went away, and Whitefoot had the little +sugar-house to himself again. + +But Farmer Brown's boy had carelessly left the door wide open. +Whitefoot didn't like that open door. It made him nervous. +There was nothing to prevent those who hunt him from walking right in. +So the rest of that night Whitefoot felt uncomfortable and anxious. + +He felt still more anxious when next day Farmer Brown's boy returned +and became very busy putting things to right. Then Farmer Brown +himself came and strange things began to happen. It became as warm +as in summer. You see Farmer Brown had built a fire under the +evaporator. Whitefoot's curiosity kept him at a place where he +could peep out and watch all that was done. He saw Farmer Brown and +Farmer Brown's boy pour pails of sap into a great pan. By and by a +delicious odor filled the sugar-house. It didn't take him a great +while to discover that these two-legged creatures were so busy that +he had nothing to fear from them, and so he crept out to watch. He +saw them draw the golden syrup from one end of the evaporator and +fill shining tin cans with it. Day after day they did the same +thing. At night when they had left and all was quiet inside the +sugar-house, Whitefoot stole out and found delicious crumbs where +they had eaten their lunch. He tasted that thick golden stuff and +found it sweet and good. Later he watched them make sugar and +nearly made himself sick that night when they had gone home, for +they had left some of that sugar where he could get at it. +He didn't understand these queer doings at all. But he was no +longer afraid. + + + +CHAPTER III: Farmer Brown's Boy Becomes Acquainted + +It didn't take Farmer Brown's boy long to discover that Whitefoot +the Wood Mouse was living in the little sugar-house. He caught +glimpses of Whitefoot peeping out at him. Now Farmer Brown's boy +is wise in the ways of the little people of the Green Forest. +Right away he made up his mind to get acquainted with Whitefoot. +He knew that not in all the Green Forest is there a more timid +little fellow than Whitefoot, and he thought it would be a fine thing +to be able to win the confidence of such a shy little chap. + +So at first Farmer Brown's boy paid no attention whatever to Whitefoot. +He took care that Whitefoot shouldn't even know that he had been seen. +Every day when he ate his lunch, Farmer Brown's boy scattered +a lot of crumbs close to the pile of wood under which Whitefoot had +made his home. Then he and Farmer Brown would go out +to collect sap. When they returned not a crumb would be left. + +One day Farmer Brown's boy scattered some particularly delicious crumbs. +Then, instead of going out, he sat down on a bench and kept +perfectly still. Farmer Brown and Bowser the Hound went out. +Of course Whitefoot heard them go out, and right away he poked his +little head out from under the pile of wood to see if the way was clear. +Farmer Brown's boy sat there right in plain sight, but Whitefoot +didn't see him. That was because Farmer Brown's boy didn't move +the least bit. Whitefoot ran out and at once began to eat +those delicious crumbs. When he had filled his little stomach, +he began to carry the remainder back to his storehouse underneath +the woodpile. While he was gone on one of these trips, Farmer +Brown's boy scattered more crumbs in a line that led right up to his +foot. Right there he placed a big piece of bread crust. + +Whitefoot was working so hard and so fast to get all those delicious +bits of food that he took no notice of anything else until he +reached that piece of crust. Then he happened to look up right into +the eyes of Farmer Brown's boy. With a frightened little squeak +Whitefoot darted back, and for a long time he was afraid to come out +again. + +But Farmer Brown's boy didn't move, and at last Whitefoot could +stand the temptation no longer. He darted out halfway, scurried +back, came out again, and at last ventured right up to the crust. +Then he began to drag it back to the woodpile. Still Farmer Brown's +boy did not move. + +For two or three days the same thing happened. By this time, +Whitefoot had lost all fear. He knew that Farmer Brown's boy would +not harm him, and it was not long before he ventured to take a bit +of food from Farmer Brown's boy's hand. After that Farmer Brown's +boy took care that no crumbs should be scattered on the ground. +Whitefoot had to come to him for his food, and always Farmer Brown's +boy had something delicious for him. + + + +CHAPTER IV: Whitefoot Grows Anxious + + 'Tis sad indeed to trust a friend + Then have that trust abruptly end. + - Whitefoot + +I know of nothing that is more sad than to feel that a friend is +no longer to be trusted. There came a time when Whitefoot the +Wood Mouse almost had this feeling. It was a very, very anxious time +for Whitefoot. + +You see, Whitefoot and Farmer Brown's boy had become the very best +of friends there in the little sugar-house. They had become such +good friends that Whitefoot did not hesitate to take food from the +hands of Farmer Brown's boy. Never in all his life had he had so +much to eat or such good things to eat. He was getting so fat that +his handsome little coat was uncomfortably tight. He ran about +fearlessly while Farmer Brown and Farmer Brown's boy were making +maple syrup and maple sugar. He had even lost his fear of Bowser +the Hound, for Bowser had paid no attention to him whatever. + +Now you remember that Whitefoot had made his home way down beneath +the great pile of wood in the sugar-house. Of course Farmer Brown +and Farmer Brown's boy used that wood for the fire to boil the sap +to make the syrup and sugar. Whitefoot thought nothing of this +until one day he discovered that his little home was no longer as +dark as it had been. A little ray of light crept down between the +sticks. Presently another little ray of light crept down between +the sticks. + +It was then that Whitefoot began to grow anxious. It was then +he realized that that pile of wood was growing smaller and smaller, +and if it kept on growing smaller, by and by there wouldn't +be any pile of wood and his little home wouldn't be hidden at all. +Of course Whitefoot didn't understand why that wood was slipping away. +In spite of himself he began to grow suspicious. He couldn't think +of any reason why that wood should be taken away, unless it was +to look for his little home. Farmer Brown's boy was just as +kind and friendly as ever, but all the time more and more light +crept in, as the wood vanished. + +"Oh dear, what does it mean?" cried Whitefoot to himself. +"They must be looking for my home, yet they have been so good to me +that it is hard to believe they mean any harm. I do hope they will stop +taking this wood away. I won't have any hiding-place at all, and +then I will have to go outside back to my old home in the hollow stump. +I don't want to do that. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I was so happy +and now I am so worried! Why can't happy times last always?" + + + +CHAPTER V: The End Of Whitefoot's Worries + + You never can tell! You never can tell! + Things going wrong will often end well. + - Whitefoot. + +The next time you meet him just ask Whitefoot if this isn't so. +Things had been going very wrong for Whitefoot. It had begun to +look to Whitefoot as if he would no longer have a snug, hidden +little home in Farmer Brown's sugar-house. The pile of wood under +which he had made that snug little home was disappearing so fast +that it began to look as if in a little while there would be no wood +at all. + +Whitefoot quite lost his appetite. He no longer came out to take +food from Farmer Brown's boy's hand. He stayed right in his snug +little home and worried. + +Now Farmer Brown's boy had not once thought of the trouble he was +making. He wondered what had become of Whitefoot, and in his turn +he began to worry. He was afraid that something had happened to his +little friend. He was thinking of this as he fed the sticks of wood +to the fire for boiling the sap to make syrup and sugar. Finally, +as he pulled away two big sticks, he saw something that made him +whistle with surprise. It was Whitefoot's nest which he had so +cleverly hidden way down underneath that pile of wood when he had +first moved into the sugar-house. With a frightened little squeak, +Whitefoot ran out, scurried across the little sugar-house and out +though the open door. + +Farmer Brown's boy understood. He understood perfectly that little +people like Whitefoot want their homes hidden away in the dark. +"Poor little chap," said Farmer Brown's boy." He had a regular +castle here and we have destroyed it. He's got the snuggest kind of +a little nest here, but he won't come back to it so long as it is +right out in plain sight. He probably thinks we have been hunting +for this little home of his. Hello! Here's his storehouse! +I've often wondered how the little rascal could eat so much, but +now I understand. He stored away here more than half of the good +things I have given him. I am glad he did. If he hadn't, he might +not come back, but I feel sure that to-night, when all is quiet, he +will come back to take away all his food. I must do something to keep +him here." + +Farmer Brown's boy sat down to think things over. Then he got +an old box and made a little round hole in one end of it. +Very carefully he took up Whitefoot's nest and placed it under the +old box in the darkest corner of the sugar-house. Then he carried all +Whitefoot's supplies over there and put them under the box. He went +outside, and got some branches of hemlock and threw these in a little +pile over the box. After this he scattered some crumbs just outside. + +Late that night Whitefoot did come back. The crumbs led him to the +old box. He crept inside. There was his snug little home! All in +a second Whitefoot understood, and trust and happiness returned. + + + +CHAPTER VI: A Very Careless Jump + +Whitefoot once more was happy. When he found his snug little nest +and his store of food under that old box in the darkest corner of +Farmer Brown's sugar-house, he knew that Farmer Brown's boy must +have placed them there. It was better than the old place under the +woodpile. It was the best place for a home Whitefoot ever had had. +It didn't take him long to change his mind about leaving the little +sugar-house. Somehow he seemed to know right down inside that his +home would not again be disturbed. + +So he proceeded to rearrange his nest and to put all his supplies +of food in one corner of the old box. When everything was placed +to suit him he ventured out, for now that he no longer feared +Farmer Brown's boy he wanted to see all that was going on. He liked +to jump up on the bench where Farmer Brown's boy sometimes sat. +He would climb up to where Farmer Brown's boy's coat hung and explore +the pockets of it. Once he stole Farmer Brown's boy's handkerchief. +He wanted it to add to the material his nest was made of. +Farmer Brown's boy discovered it just as it was disappearing, and how +he laughed as he pulled it away. + +So, what with eating and sleeping and playing about, secure in the +feeling that no harm could come to him, Whitefoot was happier than +ever before in his little life. He knew that Farmer Brown's boy and +Farmer Brown and Bowser the Hound were his friends. He knew, too, +that so long as they were about, none of his enemies would dare come +near. This being so, of course there was nothing to be afraid of. +No harm could possibly come to him. At least, that is what +Whitefoot thought. + +But you know, enemies are not the only dangers to watch out for. +Accidents will happen. When they do happen, it is very likely to +be when the possibility of them is farthest from your thoughts. +Almost always they are due to heedlessness or carelessness. +It was heedlessness that got Whitefoot into one of the worst mishaps +of his whole life. + +He had been running and jumping all around the inside of the little +sugar-house. He loves to run and jump, and he had been having just +the best time ever. Finally Whitefoot ran along the old bench and +jumped from the end of it for a box standing on end, which Farmer +Brown's boy sometimes used to sit on. It wasn't a very long jump, +but somehow Whitefoot misjudged it. He was heedless, and he didn't +jump quite far enough. Right beside that box was a tin pail half +filled with sap. Instead of landing on the box, Whitefoot landed +with a splash in that pail of sap. + + + +CHAPTER VII: Whitefoot Gives Up Hope + +Whitefoot had been in many tight places. Yes, indeed, Whitefoot had +been in many tight places. He had had narrow escapes of all kinds. +But never had he felt so utterly hopeless as now. The moment he +landed in that sap, Whitefoot began to swim frantically. He isn't a +particularly good swimmer, but he could swim well enough to keep +afloat for a while. His first thought was to scramble up the side +of the tin pail, but when he reached it and tried to fasten his +sharp little claws into it in order to climb, he discovered that he +couldn't. Sharp as they were, his little claws just slipped, and +his struggles to get up only resulted in tiring him out and in +plunging him wholly beneath the sap. He came up choking and +gasping. Then round and round inside that pail he paddled, stopping +every two or three seconds to try to climb up that hateful, smooth, +shiny wall. + +The more he tried to climb out, the more frightened he became. + +He was in a perfect panic of fear. He quite lost his head, +did Whitefoot. The harder he struggled, the more tired he became, +and the greater was his danger of drowning. + +Whitefoot squeaked pitifully. He didn't want to drown. Of course not. +He wanted to live. But unless he could get out of that pail +very soon, he would drown. He knew it. He knew that he couldn't +hold on much longer. He knew that just as soon as he stopped +paddling, he would sink. Already he was so tired from his frantic +efforts to escape that it seemed to him that he couldn't hold out +any longer. But somehow he kept his legs moving, and so kept afloat. + +Just why he kept struggling, Whitefoot couldn't have told. It wasn't +because he had any hope. He didn't have the least bit of hope. +He knew now that he couldn't climb the sides of that pail, +and there was no other way of getting out. Still he kept on paddling. +It was the only way to keep from drowning, and though he felt +sure that he had got to drown at last, he just wouldn't until +he actually had to. And all the time Whitefoot squeaked hopelessly, +despairingly, pitifully. He did it without knowing that he did it, +just as he kept paddling round and round. + + + +CHAPTER VIII: The Rescue + +When Whitefoot made the heedless jump that landed him in a pail half +filled with sap, no one else was in the little sugar-house. +Whitefoot was quite alone. You see, Farmer Brown and Farmer Brown's +boy were out collecting sap from the trees, and Bowser the Hound was +with them. + +Farmer Brown's boy was the first to return. He came in just after +Whitefoot had given up all hope. He went at once to the fire to +put more wood on. As he finished this job he heard the faintest +of little squeaks. It was a very pitiful little squeak. Farmer +Brown's boy stood perfectly still and listened. He heard it again. +He knew right away that it was the voice of Whitefoot. + +"Hello!" exclaimed Farmer Brown's boy. "That sounds as if +Whitefoot is in trouble of some kind. I wonder where the little +rascal is. I wonder what can have happened to him. I must look +into this." Again Farmer Brown's boy heard that faint little +squeak. It was so faint that he couldn't tell where it came +from. Hurriedly and anxiously he looked all over the little +sugar-house, stopping every few seconds to listen for that +pitiful little squeak. It seemed to come from nowhere in particular. +Also it was growing fainter. + +At last Farmer Brown's boy happened to stand still close to that tin +pail half filled with sap. He heard the faint little squeak again and +with it a little splash. It was the sound of the little splash that +led him to look down. In a flash he understood what had happened. +He saw poor little Whitefoot struggling feebly, and even as he +looked Whitefoot's head went under. He was very nearly drowned. + +Stooping quickly, Farmer Brown's boy grabbed Whitefoot's long tail +and pulled him out. Whitefoot was so nearly drowned that he didn't have +strength enough to even kick. A great pity filled the eyes of Farmer +Brown's boy as he held Whitefoot's head down and gently shook him. +He was trying to shake some of the sap out of Whitefoot. It ran out +of Whitefoot's nose and out of his mouth. Whitefoot began to gasp. +Then Farmer Brown's boy spread his coat close by the fire, rolled +Whitefoot up in his handkerchief and gently placed him on the coat. +For some time Whitefoot lay just gasping. But presently his breath +came easier, and after a while he was breathing naturally. But he +was too weak and tired to move, so he just lay there while Farmer +Brown's boy gently stroked his head and told him how sorry he was. + +Little by little Whitefoot recovered his strength. At last he could +sit up, and finally he began to move about a little, although he was +still wobbly on his legs. Farmer Brown's boy put some bits of food +where Whitefoot could get them, and as he ate, Whitefoot's beautiful +soft eyes were filled with gratitude. + + + +CHAPTER IX: Two Timid Persons Meet + + Thus always you will meet life's test -- + To do the thing you can do best. + - Whitefoot. + +Jumper the Hare sat crouched at the foot of a tree in the Green Forest. +Had you happened along there, you would not have seen him. At least, +I doubt if you would. If you had seen him, you probably wouldn't +have known it. You see, in his white coat Jumper was so exactly +the color of the snow that he looked like nothing more than +a little heap of snow. + +Just in front of Juniper was a little round hole. He gave it no +attention. It didn't interest him in the least. All through the +Green Forest were little holes in the snow. Jumper was so used to +them that he seldom noticed them. So he took no notice of this one +until something moved down in that hole. Jumper's eyes opened a +little wider and he watched. A sharp little face with very bright +eyes filled that little round hole. Jumper moved just the tiniest +bit, and in a flash that sharp little face with the bright eyes +disappeared. Jumper sat still and waited. After a long wait the +sharp little face with bright eyes appeared again. "Don't be +frightened, Whitefoot," said Jumper softly. At the first word the +sharp little face disappeared, but in a moment it was back, and the +sharp little eyes were fixed on Jumper suspiciously. After a long +stare the suspicion left them, and out of the little round hole came +trim little Whitefoot in a soft brown coat with white waistcoat and +with white feet and a long, slim tail. This winter he was not +living in Farmer Brown's sugarhouse. + +"Gracious, Jumper, how you did scare me!" said he. + +Jumper chuckled. "Whitefoot, I believe you are more timid than I am," +he replied. + +"Why shouldn't I be? I'm ever so much smaller, and I have more enemies," +retorted Whitefoot. + +"It is true you are smaller, but I am not so sure that you have more +enemies," replied Jumper thoughtfully. "It sometimes seems to me that +I couldn't have more, especially in winter." + +"Name them," commanded Whitefoot. + +"Hooty the Great Horned Owl, Yowler the Bob Cat, Old Man Coyote, +Reddy Fox, Terror the Goshawk, Shadow the Weasel, Billy Mink." +Jumper paused. + +"Is that all?" demanded Whitefoot. + +"Isn't that enough?" retorted Jumper rather sharply. + +"I have all of those and Blacky the Crow and Butcher the Shrike and +Sammy Jay in winter, and Buster Hear and Jimmy Skunk and several of +the Snake family in summer," replied Whitefoot. "It seems to me +sometimes as if I need eyes and ears all over me. Night and day +there is always some one hunting for poor little me. And then some +folks wonder why I am so timid. If I were not as timid as I am, +I wouldn't be alive now; I would have been caught long ago. Folks may +laugh at me for being so easily frightened, but I don't care. +That is what saves my life a dozen times a day." + +Jumper looked interested. "I hadn't thought of that," said he. +"I'm a very timid person myself, and sometimes I have been ashamed of +being so easily frightened. But come to think of it, I guess you are +right; the more timid I am, the longer I am likely to live." +Whitefoot suddenly darted into his hole. Jumper didn't move, but +his eyes widened with fear. A great white bird had just alighted on +a stump a short distance away. It was Whitey the Snowy Owl, down +from the Far North. + +"There is another enemy we both forgot," thought Jumper, +and tried not to shiver. + + + +CHAPTER X: The White Watchers + + Much may be gained by sitting still + If you but have the strength of will. + - Whitefoot. + +Jumper the Hare crouched at the foot of a tree in the Green Forest, +and a little way from him on a stump sat Whitey the Snowy Owl. +Had you been there to see them, both would have appeared as white as +the snow around them unless you had looked very closely. Then you might +have seen two narrow black lines back of Jumper's head. They were +the tips of his ears, for these remain black. And near the upper +part of the white mound which was Whitey you might have seen two +round yellow spots, his eyes. + +There they were for all the world like two little heaps of snow. +Jumper didn't move so much as a hair. Whitey didn't move so much as +a feather. Both were waiting and watching. Jumper didn't move +because he knew that Whitey was there. Whitey didn't move because +he didn't want any one to know he was there, and didn't know that +Jumper was there. Jumper was sitting still because he was afraid. +Whitey was sitting still because he was hungry. + +So there they sat, each in plain sight of the other but only one +seeing the other. This was because Juniper had been fortunate +enough to see Whitey alight on that stump. Jumper had been sitting +still when Whitey arrived, and so those fierce yellow eyes had not +yet seen him. But had Jumper so much as lifted one of those long +ears, Whitey would have seen, and his great claws would have been +reaching for Jumper. + +Jumper didn't want to sit still. No, indeed! He wanted to run. +You know it is on those long legs of his that Jumper depends almost +wholly for safety. But there are times for running and times for +sitting still, and this was a time for sitting still. He knew that +Whitey didn't know that he was anywhere near. But just the same it +was hard, very hard to sit there with one he so greatly feared +watching so near. It seemed as if those fierce yellow eyes of +Whitey must see him. They seemed to look right through him. +They made him shake inside. + +"I want to run. I want to run. I want to run," Jumper kept saying +to himself. Then he would say, "But I mustn't. I mustn't. I mustn't." +And so Jumper did the hardest thing in the world, -- sat still and +stared danger in the face. He was sitting still to save his life. + +Whitey the Snowy Owl was sitting still to catch a dinner. I know +that sounds queer, but it was so. He knew that so long as he sat +still, he was not likely to be seen. It was for this purpose that +Old Mother Nature had given him that coat of white. In the Far North, +which was his real home, everything is white for months and months, +and any one dressed in a dark suit can be seen a long distance. +So Whitey had been given that white coat that he might have +a better chance to catch food enough to keep him alive. + +And he had learned how to make the best use of it. Yes, indeed, +he knew how to make the best use of it. It was by doing just what +he was doing now, -- sitting perfectly still. Just before he had +alighted on that stump he had seen something move at the entrance +to a little round hole in the snow. He was sure of it. + +"A Mouse," thought Whitey, and alighted on that stump. "He saw me +flying, but he'll forget about it after a while and will come out +again. He won't see me then if I don't move. And I won't move +until he is far enough from that hole for me to catch him before he +can get back to it." + +So the two watchers in white sat without moving for the longest time, +one watching for a dinner and the other watching the other watcher. + + + +CHAPTER XI: Jumper Is In Doubt + + When doubtful what course to pursue + 'Tis sometimes best to nothing do. + - Whitefoot. + +Jumper the Hare was beginning to feel easier in his mind. He was no +longer shaking inside. In fact, he was beginning to feel quite safe. +There he was in plain sight of Whitey the Snowy Owl, sitting motionless +on a stump only a short distance away, yet Whitey hadn't seen him. +Whitey had looked straight at him many times, but because Jumper +had not moved so much as a hair Whitey had mistaken him for a +little heap of snow. + +"All I have to do is to keep right on sitting perfectly still, and +I'll be as safe as if Whitey were nowhere about. Yes, sir, I will," +thought Jumper. "By and by he will become tired and fly away. +I do hope he'll do that before Whitefoot comes out again. +If Whitefoot should come out, I couldn't warn him because that +would draw Whitey's attention to me, and he wouldn't look twice +at a Wood Mouse when there was a chance to get a Hare for his dinner. + +"This is a queer world. It is so. Old Mother Nature does queer things. +Here she has given me a white coat in winter so that I may not +be easily seen when there is snow on the ground, and at the same +time she has given one of those I fear most a white coat so that he +may not be easily seen, either. It certainly is a queer world." + +Jumper forgot that Whitey was only a chance visitor from the Far North +and that it was only once in a great while that he came down +there, while up in the Far North where he belonged nearly everybody +was dressed in white. + +Jumper hadn't moved once, but once in a while Whitey turned his +great round head for a look all about in every direction. But it +was done in such a way that only eyes watching him sharply would +have noticed it. Most of the time he kept his fierce yellow eyes +fixed on the little hole in the snow in which Whitefoot had +disappeared. You know Whitey can see by day quite as well as any +other bird. + +Jumper, having stopped worrying about himself, began to worry about +Whitefoot. He knew that Whitefoot had seen Whitey arrive on that +stump and that was why he had dodged back into bis hole and since +then had not even poked his nose out. But that had been so long ago +that by this time Whitefoot must think that Whitey had gone on about +his business, and Jumper expected to see Whitefoot appear any moment. +What Jumper didn't know was that Whitefoot's bright little eyes +had all the time been watching Whitey from another little hole +in the snow some distance away. A tunnel led from this little hole +to the first little hole. + +Suddenly off among the trees something moved. At least, +Jumper thought he saw something move. Yes, there it was, a little +black spot moving swiftly this way and that way over the snow. +Jumper stared very hard. And then his heart seemed to jump right up +in his throat. It did so. He felt as if he would choke. That black spot +was the tip end of a tail, the tail of a small, very slim fellow +dressed all in white, the only other one in all the Green Forest who +dresses all in white. It was Shadow the Weasel! In his white +winter coat he is called Ermine. + +He was running this way and that way, back and forth, with his nose +to the snow. He was hunting, and Jumper knew that sooner or later +Shadow would find him. Safety from Shadow lay in making the best +possible use of those long legs of his, but to do that would bring +Whitey the Owl swooping after him. What to do Jumper didn't know. +And so he did nothing. It happened to be the wisest thing he could +do. + + + +CHAPTER XII: Whitey The Owl Saves Jumper + + It often happens in the end + An enemy may prove a friend. + - Whitefoot. + +Was ever any one in a worse position than Jumper the Hare? To move +would be to give himself away to Whitey the Snowy Owl. If he +remained where he was very likely Shadow the Weasel would find him, +and the result would be the same as if he were caught by Whitey the Owl. +Neither Whitey nor Shadow knew he was there, but it would be only +a few minutes before one of them knew it. At least, that is +the way it looked to Jumper. + +Whitey wouldn't know it unless he moved, but Shadow the Weasel +would find his tracks, and his nose would lead him straight there. +Back and forth, back and forth, this way, that way and the other way, +just a little distance off, Shadow was running with his nose to the snow. +He was hunting -- hunting for the scent of some one whom he could kill. +In a few minutes he would be sure to find where Jumper had been, +and then his nose would lead him straight to that tree at the +foot of which Jumper was crouching. + +Nearer and nearer came Shadow. He was slim and trim and didn't look +at all terrible. Yet there was no one in all the Green Forest more +feared by the little people in fur, by Jumper, by Peter Rabbit, by +Whitefoot, even by Chatterer the Red Squirrel. + +"Perhaps," thought Jumper, "he won't find my scent after all. +Perhaps he'll go in another direction." But all the time Jumper +felt in his bones that Shadow would find that scent. "When he does, +I'll run," said Jumper to himself. "I'll have at least a chance to +dodge Whitey. I am afraid he will catch me, but I'll have a chance. +I won't have any chance at all if Shadow finds me." + +Suddenly Shadow stopped running and sat up to look about with +fierce little eyes, all the time testing the air with his nose. +Jumper's heart sank. He knew that Shadow had caught a faint scent +of some one. Then Shadow began to run back and forth once more, +but more carefully than before. And then he started straight for +where Jumper was crouching! Jumper knew then that Shadow had found his +trail. + +Jumper drew a long breath and settled his long hind feet for a great +jump, hoping to so take Whitey the Owl by surprise that he might be +able to get away. And as Jumper did this, he looked over to that +stump where Whitey had been sitting so long. Whitey was just +leaving it on his great silent wings, and his fierce yellow eyes +were fixed in the direction of Shadow the Weasel. He had seen that +moving black spot which was the tip of Shadow's tail. + +Jumper didn't have time to jump before Whitey was swooping down +at Shadow. So Juniper just kept still and watched with eyes almost +popping from his head with fear and excitement. + +Shadow hadn't seen Whitey until just as Whitey was reaching for him +with his great cruel claws. Now if there is any one who can move +more quickly than Shadow the Weasel I don't know who it is. +Whitey's claws closed on nothing but snow; Shadow had dodged. +Then began a game, Whitey swooping and Shadow dodging, and all the time +they were getting farther and farther from where Jumper was. + +The instant it was safe to do so, Jumper took to his long heels and +the way he disappeared, lipperty-lipperty-lip, was worth seeing. +Whitey the Snowy Owl had saved him from Shadow the Weasel and didn't +know it. An enemy had proved to be a friend. + + + +CHAPTER XIII: Whitefoot Decides Quickly + + Your mind made up a certain way + Be swift to act; do not delay. + - Whitefoot. + +When Whitefoot had discovered Whitey the Snowy Owl, he had dodged +down in the little hole in the snow beside which he had been sitting. +He had not been badly frightened. But he was somewhat upset. +Yes, sir, he was somewhat upset. You see, he had so many enemies +to watch out for, and here was another. + +"Just as if I didn't have troubles enough without having this white +robber to add to them," grumbled Whitefoot. "Why doesn't he stay +where he belongs, way up in the Far North? It must be that food is +scarce up there. Well, now that I know he is here, he will have to +be smarter than I think he is to catch me. I hope Jumper the Hare +will have sense enough to keep perfectly still. I've sometimes +envied him his long legs, but I guess I am better off than he is, at +that. Once he has been seen by an enemy, only those long legs of his +can save him, but I have a hundred hiding-places down under the snow. +Whitey is watching the hole where I disappeared; he thinks +I'll come out there again after a while. I'll fool him." + +Whitefoot scampered along through a little tunnel and presently very +cautiously peeped out of another little round hole in the snow. +Sure enough, there was Whitey the Snowy Owl back to him on a stump, +watching the hole down which he had disappeared a few minutes +before. Whitefoot grinned. Then he looked over to where he had +last seen Jumper. Jumper was still there; it was clear that he +hadn't moved, and so Whitey hadn't seen him. Again Whitefoot grinned. +Then he settled himself to watch patiently for Whitey to become tired +of watching that hole and fly away. + +So it was that Whitefoot saw all that happened. He saw Whitey +suddenly sail out on silent wings from that stump and swoop with +great claws reaching for some one. And then he saw who that some +one was, -- Shadow the Weasel! He saw Shadow dodge in the very nick +of time. Then he watched Whitey swoop again and again as Shadow +dodged this way and that way. Finally both disappeared amongst the +trees. Then he turned just in time to see Jumper the Hare bounding +away with all the speed of his wonderful, long legs. + +Fear, the greatest fear he had known for a long time, took possession +of Whitefoot. "Shadow the Weasel!" he gasped and had such a thing +been possible he certainly would have turned pale. "Whitey won't +catch him; Shadow is too quick for him. And when Whitey has given up +and flown away, Shadow will come back. He probably had found the +tracks of Jumper the Hare and he will come back. I know him; he'll +come back. Jumper is safe enough from him now, because he has such a +long start, but Shadow will be sure to find one of my holes in the snow. +Oh, dear! Oh, dear! What shall I do?" + +You see Shadow the Weasel is the one enemy that can follow Whitefoot +into most of his hiding-places. + +For a minute or two Whitefoot sat there, shaking with fright. Then +he made up his mind. "I'll get away from here before he returns," +thought Whitefoot. "I've got to. I've spent a comfortable winter +here so far, but there will be no safety for me here any longer. +I don't know where to go, but anywhere will be better than here now." + +Without waiting another second, Whitefoot scampered away. And how +he did hope that his scent would have disappeared by the time Shadow +returned. If it hadn't, there would be little hope for him and he +knew it. + + + +CHAPTER XIV: Shadows Return + + He little gains and has no pride + Who from his purpose turns aside. + - Whitefoot. + +Shadow the Weasel believes in persistence. When he sets out to do a +thing, he keeps at it until it is done or he knows for a certainty +it cannot be done. He is not easily discouraged. This is one +reason he is so feared by the little people he delights to hunt. +They know that once he gets on their trail, they will be fortunate +indeed if they escape him. + +When Whitey the Snowy Owl swooped at him and so nearly caught him, +he was not afraid as he dodged this way and that way. Any other of +the little people with the exception of his cousin, Billy Mink, +would have been frightened half to death. But Shadow was simply angry. +He was angry that any one should try to catch him. He was still +more angry because his hunt for Jumper the Hare was interfered with. +You see, he had just found Jumper's trail when Whitey swooped at him. + +So Shadow's little eyes grew red with rage as he dodged this way and +that and was gradually driven away from the place where he had +found the trail of Jumper the Hare. At last he saw a hole in an +old log and into this he darted. Whitey couldn't get him there. +Whitey knew this and he knew, too, that waiting for Shadow to come out +again would be a waste of time. So Whitey promptly flew away. + +Hardly had he disappeared when Shadow popped out of that hole, for he +had been peeping out and watching Whitey. Without a moment's pause he +turned straight back for the place where he had found the trail of +Jumper the Hare. He had no intention of giving up that hunt just +because he had been driven away. Straight to the very spot where +Whitey had first swooped at him he ran, and there once more his keen +little nose took up the trail of Jumper. It led him straight to the +foot of the tree where Jumper had crouched so long. + +But, as you know, Jumper wasn't there then. Shadow ran in a circle +and presently he found where Jumper had landed on the snow at the +end of that first bound. Shadow snarled. He understood exactly +what had happened. + +"Jumper was under that tree when that white robber from the Far +North tried to catch me, and he took that chance to leave in a hurry. +I can tell that by the length of this jump. Probably he is +still going. It is useless to follow him because he has too long a +start," said Shadow, and he snarled again in rage and disappointment. + +Then, for such is his way, he wasted no more time or thought on +Jumper the Hare. Instead he began to look for other trails. So +it was that he found one of the little holes of Whitefoot the Wood Mouse. + +"Ha! So this is where Whitefoot has been living this winter!" +he exclaimed. Once more his eyes glowed red, but this time with +eagerness and the joy of the hunt. He plunged down into that little +hole in the snow. Down there the scent of Whitefoot was strong. +Shadow followed it until it led out of another little hole in the snow. +But there he lost it. You see, it was so long since Whitefoot +had hurriedly left that the scent on the surface had disappeared. + +Shadow ran swiftly this way and that way in a big circle, but he +couldn't find Whitefoot's trail again. Snarling with anger and +disappointment, he returned to the little hole in the snow and +vanished. Then he followed all Whitefoot's little tunnels. He found +Whitefoot's nest. He found his store of seeds. But he didn't find +Whitefoot. + +"He'll come back," muttered Shadow, and curled up in Whitefoot's +nest to wait. + + + +CHAPTER XV: Whitefoots Dreadful Journey + + Danger may be anywhere, + So I expect it everywhere. + - Whitefoot. + +Whitefoot the Wood Mouse was terribly frightened. Yes, sir, he was +terribly frightened. It was a long, long time since he had been +as frightened as he now was. He is used to frights, is Whitefoot. +He has them every day and every night, but usually they are sudden +frights, quickly over and as quickly forgotten. + +This fright was different. You see Whitefoot had caught a glimpse +of Shadow the Weasel. And he knew that if Shadow returned he would +be sure to find the little round holes in the snow that led down to +Whitefoot's private little tunnels underneath. + +The only thing for Whitefoot to do was to get just as far from that +place as he could before Shadow should return. And so poor little +Whitefoot started out on a journey that was to take him he knew not +where. All he could do was to go and go and go until he could find +a safe hiding-place. + +My, my, but that was a dreadful journey! Every time a twig snapped, +Whitefoot's heart seemed to jump right up in his throat. Every time +he saw a moving shadow, and the branches of the trees moving in the +wind were constantly making moving shadows on the snow, he dodged +behind a tree trunk or under a piece of bark or wherever he could +find a hiding-place. + +You see, Whitefoot has so many enemies always looking for him that +he hides whenever he sees anything moving. When at home, he is +forever dodging in and out of his hiding-places. So, because +everything was strange to him, and because of the great fear of +Shadow the Weasel, he suspected everything that moved and every sound +he heard. For a long way no one saw him, for no one was about. +Yet all that way Whitefoot twisted and dodged and darted from place to +place and was just as badly frightened as if there had been enemies +all about. + +"Oh, dear! Oh, dear me!" he kept saying over and over to himself. +"Wherever shall I go? Whatever shall I do? However shall I get +enough to eat? I won't dare go back to get food from my little +storehouses, and I shall have to live in a strange place where I +won't know where to look for food. I am getting tired. My legs ache. +I 'm getting hungry. I want my nice, warm, soft bed. Oh, dear! +Oh, dear! Oh, dear me!" + +But in spite of his frights, Whitefoot kept on. You see, he was +more afraid to stop than he was to go on. He just had to get as far +from Shadow the Weasel as he could. Being such a little fellow, what +would be a short distance for you or me is a long distance for Whitefoot. + +And so that journey was to him very long indeed. Of course, it +seemed longer because of the constant frights which came one right +after another. It really was a terrible journey. Yet if he had only +known it, there wasn't a thing along the whole way to be afraid of. +You know it often happens that people are frightened more by what +they don't know than by what they do know. + + + +CHAPTER XVI: Whitefoot Climbs A Tree + + I'd rather be frightened With no cause for fear + Than fearful of nothing When danger is near. + - Whitefoot. + +Whitefoot kept on going and going. Every time he thought that he +was so tired he must stop, he would think of Shadow the Weasel and +then go on again. By and by he became so tired that not even the +thought of Shadow the Weasel could make him go much farther. So he +began to look about for a safe hiding-place in which to rest. + +Now the home which he had left had been a snug little room beneath +the roots of a certain old stump. There he had lived for a long +time in the greatest comfort. Little tunnels led to his storehouses +and up to the surface of the snow. It had been a splendid place +and one in which he had felt perfectly safe until Shadow the Weasel +had appeared. Had you seen him playing about there, you would have +thought him one of the little people of the ground, like his cousin +Danny Meadow Mouse. + +But Whitefoot is quite as much at home in trees as on the ground. +In fact, he is quite as much at home in trees as is Chatterer the +Red Squirrel, and a lot more at home in trees than is Striped Chipmunk, +although Striped Chipmunk belongs to the Squirrel family. +So now that he must find a hiding-place, Whitefoot decided that he +would feel much safer in a tree than on the ground. + +"If only I can find a hollow tree," whimpered Whitefoot. "I will +feel ever so much safer in a tree than hiding in or near the ground +in a strange place." + +So Whitefoot began to look for a dead tree. You see, he knew that +there was more likely to be a hollow in a dead tree than in a living +tree. By and by he came to a tall, dead tree. He knew it was a +dead tree, because there was no bark on it. But, of course, he +couldn't tell whether or not that tree was hollow. I mean he couldn't +tell from the ground. + +"Oh, dear!" he whimpered again. "Oh, dear! I suppose I will +have to climb this, and I am so tired. It ought to be hollow. +There ought to be splendid holes in it. It is just the kind of a tree +that Drummer the Woodpecker likes to make his house in. I shall be +terribly disappointed if I don't find one of his houses somewhere in +it, but I wish I hadn't got to climb it to find out. Well, here +goes." + +He looked anxiously this way. He looked anxiously that way. He looked +anxiously the other way. In fact, he looked anxiously every way. + +But he saw no one and nothing to be afraid of, and so he started up +the tree. + +He was half-way up when, glancing down, he saw a shadow moving +across the snow. Once more Whitefoot's heart seemed to jump right +up in his throat. That shadow was the shadow of some one flying. +There couldn't be the least bit of doubt about it. Whitefoot +flattened himself against the side of the tree and peeked around it. +He was just in time to see a gray and black and white bird almost +the size of Sammy Jay alight in the very next tree. He had come +along near the ground and then risen sharply into the tree. +His bill was black, and there was just a tiny hook on the end of it. +Whitefoot knew who it was. It was Butcher the Shrike. Whitefoot +shivered. + + + +CHAPTER XVII: Whitefoot Finds A Hole Just In Time + + Just in time, not just too late, + Will make you master of your fate. + - Whitefoot. + +Whitefoot, half-way up that dead tree, flattened himself against the +trunk and, with his heart going pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat with fright, +peered around the tree at an enemy he had not seen for so long that +he had quite forgotten there was such a one. It was Butcher the +Shrike. Often he is called just Butcher Bird. He did not look at +all terrible. He was not quite as big as Sammy Jay. He had no +terrible claws like the Hawks and Owls. There was a tiny hook at +the end of his black bill, but it wasn't big enough to look very +dreadful. But you can not always judge a person by looks, and +Whitefoot knew that Butcher was one to be feared. + +So his heart went pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat as he wondered if Butcher had +seen him. He didn't have to wait long to find out. Butcher flew to +a tree back of Whitefoot and then straight at him. Whitefoot dodged +around to the other side of the tree. Then began a dreadful game. +At least, it was dreadful to Whitefoot. This way and that way +around the trunk of that tree he dodged, while Butcher did his best +to catch him. + +Whitefoot would not have minded this so much, had he not been so tired, +and had he known of a hiding-place close at hand. But he was tired, +very tired, for you remember he had had what was a very long and +terrible journey to him. He had felt almost too tired to climb that +tree in the first place to see if it had any holes in it higher up. +Now he didn't know whether to keep on going up or to go down. +Two or three times he dodged around the tree without doing either. +Then he decided to go up. + +Now Butcher was enjoying this game of dodge. If he should catch +Whitefoot, he would have a good dinner. If he didn't catch Whitefoot, +he would simply go hungry a little longer. So you see, there was +a very big difference in the feelings of Whitefoot and Butcher. +Whitefoot had his life to lose, while Butcher had only a dinner +to lose. + +Dodging this way and dodging that way, Whitefoot climbed higher and +higher. Twice he whisked around that tree trunk barely in time. +All the time he was growing more and more tired, and more and more +discouraged. Supposing he should find no hole in that tree! + +"There must be one. There must be one," he kept saying over and +over to himself, to keep his courage up. "I can't keep dodging much +longer. If I don't find a hole pretty soon, Butcher will surely +catch me. Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" + +Just above Whitefoot was a broken branch. Only the stub of it remained. +The next time he dodged around the trunk he found himself just below +that stub. Oh, joy! There, close under that stub, was a round hole. +Whitefoot didn't hesitate a second. He didn't wait to find out +whether or not any one was in that hole. He didn't even think that +there might be some one in there. With a tiny little squeak of +relief he darted in. He was just in time. He was just in the nick +of time. Butcher struck at him and just missed him as he +disappeared in that hole. Whitefoot had saved his life and Butcher +had missed a dinner. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII: An Unpleasant Surprise + + Be careful never to be rude + Enough to thoughtlessly intrude. + - Whitefoot. + +If ever anybody in the Great World felt relief and thankfulness, it +was Whitefoot when he dodged into that hole in the dead tree just as +Butcher the Shrike all but caught him. For a few minutes he did +nothing but pant, for he was quite out of breath. + +"I was right," he said over and over to himself, "I was right. I +was sure there must be a hole in this tree. It is one of the old +houses of Drummer the Woodpecker. Now I am safe." + +Presently he peeped out. He wanted to see if Butcher was watching +outside. He was just in time to see Butcher's gray and black and +white coat disappearing among the trees. Butcher was not foolish +enough to waste time watching for Whitefoot to come out. Whitefoot +sighed happily. For the first time since he had started on his +dreadful journey he felt safe. Nothing else mattered. He was +hungry, but he didn't mind that. He was willing to go hungry for +the sake of being safe. + +Whitefoot watched until Butcher was out of sight. Then he turned to +see what that house was like. Right away he discovered that there +was a soft, warm bed in it. It was made of leaves, grass, moss, and +the lining of bark. It was a very fine bed indeed. + +"My, my, my, but I am lucky," said Whitefoot to himself. "I wonder +who could have made this fine bed. I certainly shall sleep +comfortably here. Goodness knows, I need a rest. If I can find +food enough near here, I'll make this my home. I couldn't ask for a +better one." + +Chuckling happily, Whitefoot began to pull away the top of that +bed so as to get to the middle of it. And then he got a surprise. +It was an unpleasant surprise. It was a most unpleasant surprise. +There was some one in that bed! Yes, sir, there was some one curled +up in a little round ball in the middle of that fine bed. It was +some one with a coat of the softest, finest fur. Can you guess who +it was? It was Timmy the Flying Squirrel. + +It seemed to Whitefoot as if his heart flopped right over. You see +at first he didn't recognize Timmy. Whitefoot is himself so very +timid that his thought was to run; to get out of there as quickly as +possible. But he had no place to run to, so he hesitated. Never in +all his life had Whitefoot had a greater disappointment. He knew +now that this splendid house was not for him. + +Timmy the Flying Squirrel didn't move. He remained curled up in a +soft little ball. He was asleep. Whitefoot remembered that Timmy +sleeps during the day and seldom comes out until the Black Shadows +come creeping out from the Purple Hills at the close of day. +Whitefoot felt easier in his mind then. Timmy was so sound asleep +that he knew nothing of his visitor. And so Whitefoot felt safe in +staying long enough to get rested. Then he would go out and hunt +for another home. + +So down in the middle of that soft, warm bed Timmy the Flying +Squirrel, curled up in a little round ball with his flat tail +wrapped around him, slept peacefully, and on top of that soft bed +Whitefoot the Wood Mouse rested and wondered what he should do next. +Not in all the Green Forest could two more timid little people be +found than the two in that old home of Drummer the Woodpecker. + + + +CHAPTER XIX: Whitefoot Finds A Home At Last + + True independence he has known + Whose home has been his very own. + - Whitefoot. + +Curled up in his splendid warm bed, Timmy the Flying Squirrel slept +peacefully. He didn't know he had a visitor. He didn't know that +on top of that same bed lay Whitefoot the Wood Mouse. Whitefoot +wasn't asleep. No, indeed! Whitefoot was too worried to sleep. +He knew he couldn't stay in that fine house because it belonged +to Timmy. He knew that as soon as Timmy awoke, he, Whitefoot, +would have to get out. Where should he go? He wished he knew. +How he did long for the old home he had left. But when he thought +of that, he remembered Shadow the Weasel. It was better to be +homeless than to feel that at any minute Shadow the Weasel might +appear. + +It was getting late in the afternoon. Before long, jolly, round, +red Mr. Sun would go to bed behind the Purple Hills, and the Black +Shadows would come creeping through the Green Forest. Then Timmy +the Flying Squirrel would awake. "It won't do for me to be here +then," said Whitefoot to himself. "I must find some other place +before he wakes. If only I knew this part of the Green Forest I +might know where to go. As it is, I shall have to go hunt for a +new home and trust to luck. Did ever a poor little Mouse have so +much trouble?" + +After awhile Whitefoot felt rested and peeped out of the doorway. +No enemy was to be seen anywhere. Whitefoot crept out and climbed +a little higher up in the tree. Presently he found another hole. +He peeped inside and listened long and carefully. He didn't intend +to make the mistake of going into another house where some one might +be living. + +At last, sure that there was no one in there, he crept in. Then he +made a discovery. There were beech nuts in there and there were seeds. + +It was a storehouse! Whitefoot knew at once that it must be Timmy's +storehouse. Right away he realized how very, very hungry he was. +Of course, he had no right to any of those seeds or nuts. Certainly not! +That is, he wouldn't have had any right had he been a boy or girl. +But it is the law of the Green Forest that whatever any one finds he +may help himself to if he can. + +So Whitefoot began to fill his empty little stomach with some of those +seeds. He ate and ate and ate and quite forgot all his troubles. +Just as he felt that he hadn't room for another seed, he heard the +sound of claws outside on the trunk of the tree. In a flash he knew +that Timmy the Flying Squirrel was awake, and that it wouldn't do to +be found in there by him. In a jiffy Whitefoot was outside. He was +just in time. Timmy was almost up to the entrance. + +"Hi, there!" cried Timmy. "What were you doing in my storehouse?" + +"I -- I -- I was looking for a new home," stammered Whitefoot. + +"You mean you were stealing some of my food," snapped Timmy suspiciously. + +"I -- I -- I did take a few seeds because I was almost starved. +But truly I was looking for a new home," replied Whitefoot. + +"What was the matter with your old home?" demanded Timmy. + +Then Whitefoot told Timmy all about how he had been obliged to leave +his old home because of Shadow the Weasel, of the terrible journey +he had had, and how he didn't know where to go or what to do. +Timmy listened suspiciously at first, but soon he made up his mind +that Whitefoot was telling the truth. The mere mention of Shadow +the Weasel made him very sober. + +He scratched his nose thoughtfully. "Over in that tall, dead stub +you can see from here is an old home of mine," said he. "No one +lives in it now. I guess you can live there until you can find a +better home. But remember to keep away from my storehouse." + +So it was that Whitefoot found a new home. + + + +CHAPTER XX: Whitefoot Makes Himself At Home + + Look not too much on that behind + Lest to the future you be blind. + - Whitefoot. + +Whitefoot didn't wait to be told twice of that empty house. +He thanked Timmy and then scampered over to that stub as fast as his +legs would take him. Up the stub he climbed, and near the top he +found a little round hole. Timmy had said no one was living there now, +and so Whitefoot didn't hesitate to pop inside. + +There was even a bed in there. It was an old bed, but it was dry +and soft. It was quite clear that no one had been in there for a +long time. With a little sigh of pure happiness, Whitefoot curled +up in that bed for the sleep he so much needed. His stomach was +full, and once more he felt safe. The very fact that this was an +old house in which no one had lived for a long time made it safer. +Whitefoot knew that those who lived in that part of the Green Forest +probably knew that no one lived in that old stub, and so no one was +likely to visit it. + +He was so tired that he slept all night. Whitefoot is one of those +who sleeps when he feels sleepy, whether it be by day or night. +He prefers the night to be out and about in, because he feels safer +then, but he often comes out by day. So when he awoke in the early +morning, he promptly went out for a look about and to get acquainted +with his new surroundings. + +Just a little way off was the tall, dead tree in which Timmy the +Flying Squirrel had his home. Timmy was nowhere to be seen. +You see, he had been out most of the night and had gone to bed to +sleep through the day. Whitefoot thought longingly of the good +things in Timmy's storehouse in that same tree, but decided that it +would be wisest to keep away from there. So he scurried about to +see what he could find for a breakfast. It didn't take him long to +find some pine cones in which a few seeds were still clinging. +These would do nicely. Whitefoot ate what he wanted and then +carried some of them back to his new home in the tall stub. + +Then he went to work to tear to pieces the old bed in there and +make it over to suit himself. It was an old bed of Timmy the +Flying Squirrel, for you know this was Timmy's old house. + +Whitefoot soon had the bed made over to suit him. And when this was +done he felt quite at home. Then he started out to explore all +about within a short distance of the old stub. He wanted to know +every hole and every possible hiding-place all around, for it is on +such knowledge that his life depends. + +When at last he returned home he was very well satisfied. "It is going +to be a good place to live," said he to himself. "There are plenty +of hiding-places and I am going to be able to find enough to eat. +It will be very nice to have Timmy the Flying Squirrel for a neighbor. +I am sure he and I will get along together very nicely. I don't +believe Shadow the Weasel, even if he should come around here, would +bother to climb up this old stub. He probably would expect to find +me living down in the ground or close to it, anyway. I certainly am +glad that I am such a good climber. Now if Buster Bear doesn't come +along in the spring and pull this old stub over, I'll have as fine a +home as any one could ask for." + +And then, because happily it is the way with the little people of +the Green Forest and the Green Meadows, Whitefoot forgot all about +his terrible journey and the dreadful time he had had in finding his +new home. + + + +CHAPTER XXI: Whitefoot Envies Timmy + + A useless thing is envy; + A foolish thing to boot. + Why should a Fox who has a bark + Want like an Owl to hoot? + +Whitefoot was beginning to feel quite at home. He would have been +wholly contented but for one thing, --he had no well-filled storehouse. +This meant that each day he must hunt for his food. + +It wasn't that Whitefoot minded hunting for food. He would have +done that anyway, even though he had had close at hand a store-house +with plenty in it. But he would have felt easier in his mind. +He would have had the comfortable feeling that if the weather turned +so bad that he could not easily get out and about, he would not have +to go hungry. + +But Whitefoot is a happy little fellow and wisely made the best of +things. At first he came out very little by day. He knew that +there were many sharp eyes watching for him, and that he was more +likely to be seen in the light of day than when the Black Shadows +had crept all through the Green Forest. + +He would peek out of his doorway and watch for chance visitors in +the daytime. Twice he saw Butcher the Shrike alight a short +distance from the tree in which Timmy lived. He knew Butcher had +not forgotten that he had chased a badly frightened Mouse into a +hole in that tree. Once he saw Whitey the Snowy Owl and so knew +that Whitey had not yet returned to the Far North. Once Reddy Fox +trotted along right past the foot of the old stub in which Whitefoot +lived, and didn't even suspect that he was anywhere near. Twice he +saw Old Man Coyote trotting past, and once Terror the Goshawk +alighted on that very stub, and sat there for half an hour. + +So Whitefoot formed the habit of doing just what Timmy the Flying +Squirrel did; he remained in his house for most of the day and came +out when the Black Shadows began to creep in among the trees. Timmy +came out about the same time, and they had become the best of friends. + +Now Whitefoot is not much given to envying others, but as night +after night he watched Timmy a little envy crept into his heart in +spite of all he could do. Timmy would nimbly climb to the top of a +tree and then jump. Down he would come in a long beautiful glide, +for all the world as if he were sliding on the air. + +The first time Whitefoot saw him do it he held his breath. He +really didn't know what to make of it. The nearest tree to the one +from which Timmy had jumped was so far away that it didn't seem +possible any one without wings could reach it without first going to +the ground. + +"Oh!" squeaked Whitefoot. "Oh! he'll kill himself! He surely +will kill himself! He'll break his neck!" But Timmy did nothing of +the kind. He sailed down, down, down and alighted on that distant +tree a foot or two from the bottom; and without stopping a second +scampered up to the top of that tree and once more jumped. +Whitefoot had hard work to believe his own eyes. Timmy seemed to be +jumping just for the pleasure of it. As a matter of fact, he was. +He was getting his evening exercise. + +Whitefoot sighed. "I wish I could jump like that," said he to himself. +"I wouldn't ever be afraid of anybody if I could jump like that. +I envy Timmy. I do so." + + + +CHAPTER XXII: Timmy Proves To Be A True Neighbor + + He proves himself a neighbor true + Who seeks a kindly deed to do. + - Whitefoot. + +Occasionally Timmy the Flying Squirrel came over to visit Whitefoot. +If Whitefoot was in his house he always knew when Timmy arrived. +He would hear a soft thump down near the bottom of the tall stub. +He would know instantly that thump was made by Timmy striking the +foot of the stub after a long jump from the top of a tree. +Whitefoot would poke his head out of his doorway and there, sure +enough, would be Timmy scrambling up towards him. + +Whitefoot had grown to admire Timmy with all his might. It seemed +to him that Timmy was the most wonderful of all the people he knew. +You see there was none of the others who could jump as Timmy could. +Timmy on his part enjoyed having Whitefoot for a neighbor. Few of +the little people of the Green Forest are more timid than Timmy the +Flying Squirrel, but here was one beside whom Timmy actually felt +bold. It was such a new feeling that Timmy enjoyed it. + +So it was that in the dusk of early evening, just after the Black +Shadows had come creeping out from the Purple Hills across the Green +Meadows and through the Green Forest, these two little neighbors +would start out to hunt for food. Whitefoot never went far from +the tall, dead stub in which he was now living. He didn't dare to. +He wanted to be where at the first sign of danger he could scamper +back there to safety. Timmy would go some distance, but he was +seldom gone long. He liked to be where he could watch and talk with +Whitefoot. You see Timmy is very much like other people, -- he +likes to gossip a little. + +One evening Whitefoot had found it hard work to find enough food to +fill his stomach. He had kept going a little farther and a little +farther from home. Finally he was farther from it than he had ever +been before. Timmy had filled his stomach and from near the top of +a tree was watching Whitefoot. Suddenly what seemed like a great +Black Shadow floated right over the tree in which Timmy was sitting, +and stopped on the top of a tall, dead tree. It was Hooty the Owl, +and it was simply good fortune that Timmy happened to see him. +Timmy did not move. He knew that he was safe so long as he kept +perfectly still. He knew that Hooty didn't know he was there. +Unless he moved, those great eyes of Hooty's, wonderful as they +were, would not see him. + +Timmy looked over to where he had last seen Whitefoot. There he was +picking out seeds from a pine cone on the ground. The trunk of a +tree was between him and Hooty. But Timmy knew that Whitefoot +hadn't seen Hooty, and that any minute he might run out from behind +that tree. If he did Hooty would see him, and silently as a shadow +would swoop down and catch him. What was to be done? + +"It's no business of mine," said Timmy to himself. "Whitefoot must +look out for himself. It is no business of mine at all. Perhaps +Hooty will fly away before Whitefoot moves. I don't want anything +to happen to Whitefoot, but if something does, it will be his own +fault; he should keep better watch." + +For a few minutes nothing happened. Then Whitefoot finished the +last seed in that cone and started to look for more. Timmy knew that +in a moment Hooty would see Whitefoot. What do you think Timmy did? +He jumped. Yes, sir, he jumped. Down, down, down, straight past +the tree on which sat Hooty the Owl, Timmy sailed. Hooty saw him. +Of course. He couldn't help but see him. He spread his great wings +and was after Timmy in an instant. Timmy struck near the foot of a +tree and without wasting a second darted around to the other side. +He was just in time. Hooty was already reaching for him. Up the +tree ran Timmy and jumped again. Again Hooty was too late. And so +Timmy led Hooty the Owl away from Whitefoot the Wood Mouse. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII: Whitefoot Spends A Dreadful Night + + Pity those who suffer fright + In the dark and stilly night. + - Whitefoot. + +One night of his life Whitefoot will never forget so long as he +lives. Even now it makes him shiver just to think of it. Yes, sir, +he shivers even now whenever he thinks of that night. The Black +Shadows had come early that evening, so that it was quite dusk when +Whitefoot crept out of his snug little bed and climbed up to the +round hole which was the doorway of his home. He had just poked his +nose out that little round doorway when there was the most terrible +sound. It seemed to him as if it was in his very ears, so loud and +terrible was it. It frightened him so that he simply let go and +tumbled backward down inside his house. Of course it didn't hurt +him any, for he landed on his soft bed. + +"Whooo-hoo-hoo, whooo-hoo!" came that terrible sound again, and +Whitefoot shook until his little teeth rattled. At least, that is +the way it seemed to him. It was the voice of Hooty the Owl, and +Whitefoot knew that Hooty was sitting on the top of that very stub. +He was, so to speak, on the roof of Whitefoot's house. + +Now in all the Green Forest there is no sound that strikes terror to +the hearts of the little people of feathers and fur equal to the +hunting call of Hooty the Owl. Hooty knows this. No one knows it +better than he does. That is why he uses it. He knows that many of +the little people are asleep, safely hidden away. He knows that it +would be quite useless for him to simply look for them. He would +starve before he could find a dinner in that way. But he knows that +any one wakened from sleep in great fright is sure to move, and if +they do this they are almost equally sure to make some little sound. +His ears are so wonderful that they can catch the faintest sound and +tell exactly where it comes from. So he uses that terrible hunting +cry to frighten the little people and make them move. + +Now Whitefoot knew that he was safe. Hooty couldn't possibly get at +him, even should he find out that he was in there. There was +nothing to fear, but just the same, Whitefoot shivered and shook and +jumped almost out of his skin every time that Hooty hooted. He just +couldn't help it. + +"He can't get me. I know he can't get me. I'm perfectly safe. +I'm just as safe as if he were miles away. There's nothing to be +afraid of. It is silly to be afraid. Probably Hooty doesn't even +know I am inside here. Even if he does, it doesn't really matter." +Whitefoot said these things to himself over and over again. Then +Hooty would send out that fierce, terrible hunting call and Whitefoot +would jump and shake just as before. + +After awhile all was still. Gradually Whitefoot stopped trembling. +He guessed that Hooty had flown away. Still he remained right where +he was for a very long time. He didn't intend to foolishly take any +chances. So he waited and waited and waited. + +At last he was sure that Hooty had left. Once more he climbed up to +his little round doorway and there he waited some time before poking +even his nose outside. Then, just as he had made up his mind to go out, +that terrible sound rang out again, and just as before he tumbled +heels over head down on his bed. + +Whitefoot didn't go out that night at all. It was a moonlight night +and just the kind of a night to be out. Instead Whitefoot lay in +his little bed and shivered and shook, for all through that long +night every once in a while Hooty the Owl would hoot from the top of +that stub. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV: Whitefoot The Wood Mouse Is Unhappy + + Unhappiness without a cause you never, never find; + It may be in the stomach, or it may be in the mind. + - Whitefoot. + +Whitefoot the Wood Mouse should have been happy, but he wasn't. +Winter had gone and sweet Mistress Spring had brought joy to all the +Green Forest. Every one was happy, Whitefoot no less so than his +neighbors at first. Up from the Sunny South came the feathered +friends and at once began planning new homes. Twitterings and songs +filled the air. Joy was everywhere. Food became plentiful, and +Whitefoot became sleek and fat. That is, he became as fat as a +lively Wood Mouse ever does become. None of his enemies had +discovered his new home, and he had little to worry about. + +But by and by Whitefoot began to feel less joyous. Day by day he +grew more and more unhappy. He no longer took pleasure in his +fine home. He began to wander about for no particular reason. +He wandered much farther from home than he had ever been in the +habit of doing. At times he would sit and listen, but what he was +listening for he didn't know. "There is something the matter with +me, and I don't know what it is," said Whitefoot to himself forlornly. +"It can't be anything I have eaten. I have nothing to worry about. +Yet there is something wrong with me. I'm losing my appetite. +Nothing tastes good any more. I want something, but I don't know +what it is I want." + +He tried to tell his troubles to his nearest neighbor, Timmy the +Flying Squirrel, but Timmy was too busy to listen. When Peter +Rabbit happened along, Whitefoot tried to tell him. But Peter +himself was too happy and too eager to learn all the news in the +Green Forest to listen. No one had any interest in Whitefoot's +troubles. Every one was too busy with his own affairs. + +So day by day Whitefoot the Wood Mouse grew more and more unhappy, +and when the dusk of early evening came creeping through the Green +Forest, he sat about and moped instead of running about and playing +as he had been in the habit of doing. The beautiful song of Melody +the Wood Thrush somehow filled him with sadness instead of with the +joy he had always felt before. The very happiness of those about +him seemed to make him more unhappy. + +Once he almost decided to go hunt for another home, but somehow he +couldn't get interested even in this. He did start out, but he had +not gone far before he had forgotten all about what he had started +for. Always he had loved to run about and climb and jump for the +pure pleasure of it, but now he no longer did these things. +He was unhappy, was Whitefoot. Yes, sir, he was unhappy; and for no +cause at all so far as he could see. + + + +CHAPTER XXV: Whitefoot Finds Out What The Matter Was + + Pity the lonely, for deep in the heart + Is an ache that no doctor can heal by his art. + - Whitefoot. + +Of all the little people of the Green Forest Whitefoot seemed to be +the only one who was unhappy. And because he didn't know why he +felt so he became day by day more unhappy. Perhaps I should say +that night by night he became more unhappy, for during the +brightness of the day he slept most of the time. + +"There is something wrong, something wrong," he would say +over and over to himself. + +"It must be with me, because everybody else is happy, and this is +the happiest time of all the year. I wish some one would tell me +what ails me. I want to be happy, but somehow I just can't be." + +One evening he wandered a little farther from home than usual. +He wasn't going anywhere in particular. He had nothing in +particular to do. He was just wandering about because somehow he +couldn't remain at home. Not far away Melody the Wood Thrush was +pouring out his beautiful evening song. Whitefoot stopped to +listen. Somehow it made him more unhappy than ever. Melody stopped +singing for a few moments. It was just then that Whitefoot heard a +faint sound. It was a gentle drumming. Whitefoot pricked up his +ears and listened. There it was again. He knew instantly how that +sound was made. It was made by dainty little feet beating very fast +on an old log. Whitefoot had drummed that way himself many times. +It was soft, but clear, and it lasted only a moment. + +Right then something very strange happened to Whitefoot. Yes, sir, +something very strange happened to Whitefoot. All in a flash he +felt better. At first he didn't know why. He just did, that was all. +Without thinking what he was doing, he began to drum himself. Then +he listened. At first he heard nothing. Then, soft and low, came +that drumming sound again. Whitefoot replied to it. All the time +he kept feeling better. He ran a little nearer to the place from +which that drumming sound had come and then once more drummed. +At first he got no reply. + +Then in a few minutes he heard it again, only this time it came from +a different place. Whitefoot became quite excited. He knew that +that drumming was done by another Wood Mouse, and all in a flash it +came over him what had been the matter with him. + +"I have been lonely!" exclaimed Whitefoot. "That is all that has +been the trouble with me. I have been lonely and didn't know it. +I wonder if that other Wood Mouse has felt the same way." + +Again he drummed and again came that soft reply. Once more +Whitefoot hurried in the direction of it, and once more he was +disappointed when the next reply came from a different place. +By now he was getting quite excited. He was bound to find that other +Wood Mouse. Every time he heard that drumming, funny little thrills +ran all over him. He didn't know why. They just did, that was all. +He simply must find that other Wood Mouse. He forgot everything else. +He didn't even notice where he was going. He would drum, then wait +for a reply. As soon as he heard it, he would scamper in the +direction of it, and then pause to drum again. Sometimes the reply +would be very near, then again it would be so far away that a great +fear would fill Whitefoot's heart that the stranger was running away. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI: Love Fills The Heart Of Whitefoot + + Joyous all the winds that blow + To the heart with love aglow. + - Whitefoot. + +It was a wonderful game of hide-and-seek that Whitefoot the Wood +Mouse was playing in the dusk of early evening. Whitefoot was "it" +all the time. That is, he was the one who had to do all the hunting. +Just who he was hunting for he didn't know. He knew it was another +Wood Mouse, but it was a stranger, and do what he would, he couldn't +get so much as a glimpse of this little stranger. He would drum +with his feet and after a slight pause there would be an answering +drum. Then Whitefoot would run as fast as he could in that direction +only to find no one at all. Then he would drum again and the reply +would come from another direction. + +Every moment Whitefoot became more excited. He forgot everything, +even danger, in his desire to see that little drummer. Once or +twice he actually lost his temper in his disappointment. But this +was only for a moment. He was too eager to find that little drummer +to be angry very long. + +At last there came a time when there was no reply to his drumming. +He drummed and listened, then drummed again and listened. Nothing +was to be heard. There was no reply. Whitefoot's heart sank. + +All the old lonesomeness crept over him again. He didn't know which +way to turn to look for that stranger. When he had drummed until he +was tired, he sat on the end of an old log, a perfect picture of +disappointment. He was so disappointed that he could have cried if +it would have done any good. + +Just as he had about made up his mind that there was nothing to do but +to try to find his way home, his keen little ears caught the faintest +rustle of dry leaves. Instantly Whitefoot was alert and watchful. +Long ago he had learned to be suspicious of rustling leaves. +They might have been rustled by the feet of an enemy stealing up on +him. No Wood Mouse who wants to live long is ever heedless of +rustling leaves. As still as if he couldn't move, Whitefoot sat +staring at the place from which that faint sound had seemed to come. +For two or three minutes he heard and saw nothing. Then another +leaf rustled a little bit to one side. Whitefoot turned like a +flash, his feet gathered under him ready for a long jump for safety. + +At first he saw nothing. Then he became aware of two bright, soft +little eyes watching him. He stared at them very hard and then all +over him crept those funny thrills he had felt when he had first +heard the drumming of the stranger. He knew without being told that +those eyes belonged to the little drummer with whom he had been +playing hide and seek so long. + +Whitefoot held his breath, he was so afraid that those eyes would vanish. +Finally he rather timidly jumped down from the log and started +toward those two soft eyes. They vanished. Whitefoot's heart sank. +He was tempted to rush forward, but he didn't. He sat still. +There was a slight rustle off to the right. A little ray of +moonlight made its way down through the branches of the trees just +there, and in the middle of the light spot it made sat a timid +little person. It seemed to Whitefoot that he was looking at the +most beautiful Wood Mouse in all the Great World. Suddenly he felt +very shy and timid himself. + +"Who -- who -- who are you?" he stammered. + +"I am little Miss Dainty," replied the stranger bashfully. + +Right then and there Whitefoot's heart was filled so full of +something that it seemed as if it would burst. It was love. All in +that instant he knew that he had found the most wonderful thing in +all the Great World, which of course is love. He knew that he just +couldn't live without little Miss Dainty. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII: Mr. And Mrs. Whitefoot + + When all is said and all is done + 'Tis only love of two makes one. + - Whitefoot. + +Little Miss Dainty, the most beautiful and wonderful Wood Mouse in all +the Great World, according to Whitefoot, was very shy and very timid. +It took Whitefoot a long time to make her believe that he really +couldn't live without her. At least, she pretended not to believe it. +If the truth were known, little Miss Dainty felt just the same way +about Whitefoot. But Whitefoot didn't know this, and I am afraid +she teased him a great deal before she told him that she loved him +just as he loved her. + +But at last little Miss Dainty shyly admitted that she loved Whitefoot +just as much as he loved her and was willing to become Mrs. Whitefoot. +Secretly she thought Whitefoot the most wonderful Wood Mouse in the +Great World, but she didn't tell him so. The truth is, she made him +feel as if she were doing him a great favor. + +As for Whitefoot, he was so happy that he actually tried to sing. +Yes, sir, Whitefoot tried to sing, and he really did very well for a +Mouse. He was ready and eager to do anything that Mrs. Whitefoot +wanted to do. Together they scampered about in the moonlight, +hunting for good things to eat, and poking their inquisitive little +noses into every little place they could find. Whitefoot forgot +that he had ever been sad and lonely. He raced about and did all +sorts of funny things from pure joy, but he never once forgot to +watch out for danger. In fact he was more watchful than ever, for +now he was watching for Mrs. Whitefoot as well as for himself. + +At last Whitefoot rather timidly suggested that they should go see +his fine home in a certain hollow stub. Mrs. Whitefoot insisted +that they should go to her home. Whitefoot agreed on condition that +she would afterwards visit his home. So together they went back to +Mrs. Whitefoot's home. Whitefoot pretended that he liked it very +much, but in his heart he thought his own home was very much better, +and he felt quite sure that Mrs. Whitefoot would agree with him once +she had seen it. + +But Mrs. Whitefoot was very well satisfied with her old home and not +at all anxious to leave it. It was in an old hollow stump close to +the ground. It was just such a place as Shadow the Weasel would be +sure to visit should he happen along that way. It didn't seem at +all safe to Whitefoot. In fact it worried him. Then, too, it was +not in such a pleasant place as was his own home. Of course he +didn't say this, but pretended to admire everything. + +Two days and nights they spent there. Then Whitefoot suggested that +they should visit his home. "Of course, my dear, we will not have +to live there unless you want to, but I want you to see it," said he. + +Mrs. Whitefoot didn't appear at all anxious to go. She began to +make excuses for staying right where they were. You see, she had a +great love for that old home. They were sitting just outside the +doorway talking about the matter when Whitefoot caught a glimpse of +a swiftly moving form not far off. It was Shadow the Weasel. +Neither of them breathed. Shadow passed without looking in their +direction. When he was out of sight, Mrs. Whitefoot shivered. + +"Let's go over to your home right away," she whispered. "I've never +seen Shadow about here before, but now that he has been here once, +he may come again." + +"We'll start at once," replied Whitefoot, and for once he was glad +that Shadow the Weasel was about. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII: Mrs. Whitefoot Decides On A Home + + When Mrs. Mouse makes up her mind + Then Mr. Mouse best get behind. + - Whitefoot. + +Whitefoot the Wood Mouse was very proud of his home. He showed it +as he led Mrs. Whitefoot there. He felt sure that she would say at +once that that would be the place for them to live. You remember +that it was high up in a tall, dead stub and had once been the home +of Timmy the Flying Squirrel. + +"There, my dear, what do you think of that?" said Whitefoot proudly +as they reached the little round doorway. + +Mrs. Whitefoot said nothing, but at once went inside. She was gone +what seemed a long time to Whitefoot, anxiously waiting outside. +You see, Mrs. Whitefoot is a very thorough small person, and she was +examining the inside of that house from top to bottom. At last she +appeared at the doorway. + +"Don't you think this is a splendid house?" asked Whitefoot +rather timidly. + +"It is very good of its kind," replied Mrs. Whitefoot. + +Whitefoot's heart sank. He didn't like the tone in which Mrs. +Whitefoot had said that. + +"Just what do you mean, my dear?" Whitefoot asked. + +"I mean," replied Mrs. Whitefoot, in a most decided way, "that it is +a very good house for winter, but it won't do at all for summer. +That is, it won't do for me. In the first place it is so high up +that if we should have babies, I would worry all the time for fear +the darlings would have a bad fall. Besides, I don't like an inside +house for summer. I think, Whitefoot, we must look around and find +a new home." + +As she spoke Mrs. Whitefoot was already starting down the stub. +Whitefoot followed. + +"All right, my dear, all right," said he meekly. "You know best. +This seems to me like a very fine home, but of course, if you don't +like it we'll look for another." + +Mrs. Whitefoot said nothing, but led the way down the tree with +Whitefoot meekly following. Then began a patient search all about. +Mrs. Whitefoot appeared to know just what she wanted and turned up +her nose at several places Whitefoot thought would make fine homes. +She hardly glanced at a fine hollow log Whitefoot found. She merely +poked her nose in at a splendid hole beneath the roots of an old stump. +Whitefoot began to grow tired from running about and climbing stumps +and trees and bushes. + +He stopped to rest and lost sight of Mrs. Whitefoot. A moment later he +heard her calling excitedly. When he found her, she was up in a small +tree, sitting on the edge of an old nest a few feet above the ground. +It was a nest that had once belonged to Melody the Wood Thrush. +Mrs. Whitefoot was sitting on the edge of it, and her bright eyes +snapped with excitement and pleasure. + +"I've found it!" she cried. "I've found it! It is just what I +have been looking for." + +"Found what?" Whitefoot asked. "I don't see anything but an old +nest of Melody's." + +"I've found the home we've been looking for, stupid," retorted +Mrs. Whitefoot. + +Still Whitefoot stared. "I don't see any house," said he. + +Mrs. Whitefoot stamped her feet impatiently. "Right here, stupid," +said she. "This old nest will make us the finest and safest home +that ever was. No one will ever think of looking for us here. +We must get busy at once and fix it up." + +Even then Whitefoot didn't understand. Always he had lived either +in a hole in the ground, or in a hollow stump or tree. How they +were to live in that old nest he couldn't see at all. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX: Making Over An Old House + + A home is always what you make it. + With love there you will ne'er forsake it. + - Whitefoot. + +Whitefoot climbed up to the old nest of Melody the Wood Thrush over +the edge of which little Mrs. Whitefoot was looking down at him. +It took Whitefoot hardly a moment to get up there, for the nest was +only a few feet above the ground in a young tree, and you know +Whitefoot is a very good climber. + +He found Mrs. Whitefoot very much excited. She was delighted with +that old nest and she showed it. For his part, Whitefoot couldn't +see anything but a deserted old house of no use to any one. To be +sure, it had been a very good home in its time. It had been made of +tiny twigs, stalks of old weeds, leaves, little fine roots and mud. +It was still quite solid, and was firmly fixed in a crotch of the +young tree. But Whitefoot couldn't see how it could be turned into +a home for a Mouse. He said as much. + +Little Mrs. Whitefoot became more excited than ever. "You dear old +stupid," said she, "whatever is the matter with you? Don't you see +that all we need do is to put a roof on, make an entrance on the +under side, and make a soft comfortable bed inside to make it a +delightful home?" + +"I don't see why we don't make a new home altogether," protested +Whitefoot. "It seems to me that hollow stub of mine is ever so much +better than this. That has good solid walls, and we won't have to +do a thing to it." + +"I told you once before that it doesn't suit me for summer," replied +little Mrs. Whitefoot rather sharply, because she was beginning to +lose patience. "It will be all right for winter, but winter is a +long way off. It may suit you for summer, but it doesn't suit me, +and this place does. So this is where we are going to live." + +"Certainly, my dear. Certainly," replied Whitefoot very meekly. +"If you want to live here, here we will live. But I must confess it +isn't clear to me yet how we are going to make a decent home out of +this old nest." + +"Don't you worry about that," replied Mrs. Whitefoot. "You can get +the material, and I'll attend to the rest. Let us waste no time +about it. I am anxious to get our home finished and to feel a +little bit settled. I have already planned just what has got to be +done and how we will do it. Now you go look for some nice soft, dry +weed stalks and strips of soft bark, and moss and any other soft, tough +material that you can find. Just get busy and don't stop to talk." + +Of course Whitefoot did as he was told. He ran down to the ground +and began to hunt for the things Mrs. Whitefoot wanted. He was very +particular about it. He still didn't think much of her idea of +making over that old home of Melody's, but if she would do it, he +meant that she should have the very best of materials to do it with. + +So back and forth from the ground to the old nest in the tree +Whitefoot hurried, and presently there was quite a pile of weed +stalks and soft grass and strips of bark in the old nest. +Mrs. Whitefoot joined Whitefoot in hunting for just the right +things, but she spent more time in arranging the material. +Over that old nest she made a fine high roof. Down through the +lower side she cut a little round doorway just big enough for them +to pass through. Unless you happened to be underneath looking up, +you never would have guessed there was an entrance at all. Inside +was a snug, round room, and in this she made the softest and most +comfortable of beds. As it began to look more and more like a home, +Whitefoot himself became as excited and eager as Mrs. Whitefoot had +been from the beginning. "It certainly is going to be a fine home," +said Whitefoot. + +"Didn't I tell you it would be?" retorted Mrs. Whitefoot. + + + +CHAPTER XXX: The Whitefoots Enjoy Their New Home + + No home is ever mean or poor + Where love awaits you at the door. + - Whitefoot. + +"There," said Mrs. Whitefoot, as she worked a strip of white birch +bark into the roof of the new home she and Whitefoot had been +building out of the old home of Melody the Wood Thrush, "this +finishes the roof. I don't think any water will get through it even +in the hardest rain." + +"It is wonderful," declared Whitefoot admiringly. "Wherever did you +learn to build such a house as this?" + +"From my mother" replied Mrs. Whitefoot. "I was born in just such +a home. It makes the finest kind of a home for Wood Mouse babies." + +"You don't think there is danger that the wind will blow it down, do +you?" ventured Whitefoot. + +"Of course I don't," retorted little Mrs. Whitefoot scornfully. +"Hasn't this old nest remained right where it is for over a year? +Do you suppose that if I had thought there was the least bit of +danger that it would blow down, I would have used it? Do credit me +with a little sense, my dear." + +"Yes'm, I do," replied Whitefoot meekly. "You are the most sensible +person in all the Great World. I wasn't finding fault. You see, I +have always lived in a hole in the ground or a hollow stump, or a +hole in a tree, and I have not yet become used to a home that moves +about and rocks as this one does when the wind blows. But if you +say it is all right, why of course it is all right. Probably I will +get used to it after awhile." + +Whitefoot did get used to it. After living in it for a few days, it +no longer seemed strange, and he no longer minded its swaying when +the wind blew. The fact is, he rather enjoyed it. So Whitefoot and +Mrs. Whitefoot settled down to enjoy their new home. Now and then +they added a bit to it here and there. + +Somehow Whitefoot felt unusually safe, safer than he had ever felt +in any of his other homes. You see, he had seen several feathered +folk alight close to it and not give it a second look. He knew that +they had seen that home, but had mistaken it for what it had once +been, the deserted home of one of their own number. + +Whitefoot had chuckled. He had chuckled long and heartily. +"If they make that mistake," said he to himself, "everybody else is +likely to make it. That home of ours is right in plain sight, yet I +do believe it is safer than the best hidden home I ever had before. +Shadow the Weasel never will think of climbing up this little tree +to look at an old nest, and Shadow is the one I am most afraid of." + +It was only a day or two later that Buster Bear happened along that +way. Now Buster is very fond of tender Wood Mouse. More than once +Whitefoot had had a narrow escape from Buster's big claws as they +tore open an old stump or dug into the ground after him. He saw +Buster glance up at the new home without the slightest interest in +those shrewd little eyes of his. Then Buster shuffled on to roll +over an old log and lick up the ants he found under it. Again +Whitefoot chuckled. "Yes, sir," said he. "It is the safest home I +'ve ever had." + +So Whitefoot and little Mrs. Whitefoot were very happy in the home +which they had built, and for once in his life Whitefoot did very +little worrying. Life seemed more beautiful than it had ever been +before. And he almost forgot that there was such a thing as a +hungry enemy. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI: Whitefoot Is Hurt + + The hurts that hardest are to bear + Come from those for whom we care. + - Whitefoot. + +Whitefoot was hurt. Yes, sir, Whitefoot was hurt. He was very much +hurt. It wasn't a bodily hurt; it was an inside hurt. It was a +hurt that made his heart ache. And to make it worse, he couldn't +understand it at all. One evening he had been met at the little +round doorway by little Mrs. Whitefoot. + +"You can't come in," said she. + +"Why can't I?" demanded Whitefoot, in the greatest surprise. + +"Never mind why. You can't, and that is all there is to it," +replied Mrs. Whitefoot. + +"You mean I can't ever come in any more?" asked Whitefoot. + +"I don't know about that," replied Mrs. Whitefoot, "but you can't +come in now, nor for some time. I think the best thing you can do +is to go back to your old home in the hollow stub." + +Whitefoot stared at little Mrs. Whitefoot quite as if he thought +she had gone crazy. Then he lost his temper. "I guess I'll come in +if I want to," said he. "This home is quite as much my home as it +is yours. You have no right to keep me out of it. Just you get out +of my way." + +But little Mrs. Whitefoot didn't get out of his way, and do what +he would, Whitefoot couldn't get in. You see she quite filled that +little round doorway. Finally, he had to give up trying. Three times +he came back and each time he found little Mrs. Whitefoot in the +doorway. And each time she drove him away. Finally, for lack of +any other place to go to, he returned to his old home in the old +stub. Once he had thought this the finest home possible, but now +somehow it didn't suit him at all. The truth is he missed little +Mrs. Whitefoot, and so what had once been a home was now only a +place in which to hide and sleep. + +Whitefoot's anger did not last long. It was replaced by that +hurt feeling. He felt that he must have done something little +Mrs. Whitefoot did not like, but though he thought and thought he +couldn't remember a single thing. Several times he went back to see +if Mrs. Whitefoot felt any differently, but found she didn't. +Finally she told him rather sharply to go away and stay away. +After that Whitefoot didn't venture over to the new home. He would +sometimes sit a short distance away and gaze at it longingly. +All the joy had gone out of the beautiful springtime for him. +He was quite as unhappy as he had been before he met little +Mrs. Whitefoot. You see, he was even more lonely than he had been +then. And added to this loneliness was that hurt feeling, which +made it ever and ever so much worse. It was very hard to bear. + +"If I could understand it, it wouldn't be so bad," he kept saying +over and over again to himself, "but I don't understand it. I don't +understand why Mrs. Whitefoot doesn't love me any more." + + + +CHAPTER XXXII: The Surprise + + Surprises sometimes are so great + You're tempted to believe in fate. + - Whitefoot. + +One never-to-be forgotten evening Whitefoot met Mrs. Whitefoot and +she invited him to come back to their home. Of course Whitefoot was +delighted. + +"Sh-h-h," said little Mrs. Whitefoot, as Whitefoot entered the snug +little room of the house they had built in the old nest of Melody +the Wood Thrush. Whitefoot hesitated. In the first place, it was +dark in there. In the second place, he had the feeling that somehow +that little bedroom seemed crowded. It hadn't been that way the +last time he was there. Mrs. Whitefoot was right in front of him, +and she seemed very much excited about something. + +Presently she crowded to one side. "Come here and look," said she. + +Whitefoot looked. In the middle of a soft bed of moss was a +squirming mass of legs and funny little heads. At first that was +all Whitefoot could make out. + +"Don't you think this is the most wonderful surprise that ever was?" +whispered little Mrs. Whitefoot. "Aren't they darlings? Aren't you +proud of them?" + +By this time Whitefoot had made out that that squirming mass of legs +and heads was composed of baby Mice. He counted them. There were four. +"Whose are they, and what are they doing here?" Whitefoot asked +in a queer voice. + +"Why, you old stupid, they are yours, -- yours and mine," declared +little Mrs. Whitefoot. "Did you ever, ever see such beautiful babies? +Now I guess you understand why I kept you away from here." + +Whitefoot shook his head. "No," said he, "I don't understand at all. +I don't see yet what you drove me away for." + +"Why, you blessed old dear, there wasn't room for you when those +babies came; I had to have all the room there was. It wouldn't have +done to have had you running in and out and disturbing them when +they were so tiny. I had to be alone with them, and that is why I +made you go off and live by yourself. I am so proud of them, I +don't know what to do. Aren't you proud, Whitefoot? Aren't you the +proudest Wood Mouse in all the Green Forest?" + +Of course Whitefoot should have promptly said that he was, but the +truth is, Whitefoot wasn't proud at all. You see, he was so +surprised that he hadn't yet had time to feel that they were +really his. In fact, just then he felt a wee bit jealous of them. +It came over him that they would take all the time and attention of +little Mrs. Whitefoot. So Whitefoot didn't answer that question. +He simply sat and stared at those four squirming babies. + +Finally little Mrs. Whitefoot gently pushed him out and followed him. +"Of course," said she, "there isn't room for you to stay here now. +You will have to sleep in your old home because there isn't room in +here for both of us and the babies too." + +Whitefoot's heart sank. He had thought that he was to stay and that +everything would be just as it had been before. "Can't I come over +here any more?" he asked rather timidly. + +"What a foolish question!" cried little Mrs. Whitefoot. "Of course +you can. You will have to help take care of these babies. Just as +soon as they are big enough, you will have to help teach them how to +hunt for food and how to watch out for danger, and all the things that +a wise Wood Mouse knows. Why, they couldn't get along without you. +Neither could I," she added softly. + +At that Whitefoot felt better. And suddenly there was a queer +swelling in his heart. It was the beginning of pride, pride in +those wonderful babies. + +"You have given me the best surprise that ever was, my dear," said +Whitefoot softly. "Now I think I will go and look for some supper." + +So now we will leave Whitefoot and his family. You see there are +two very lively little people of the Green Forest who demand +attention and insist on having it. They are Buster Bear's Twins, +and this is to be the title of the next book. +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Whitefoot the Wood Mouse +by Thornton W. 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