diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/63417-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63417-0.txt | 4922 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 4922 deletions
diff --git a/old/63417-0.txt b/old/63417-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index eaed5e5..0000000 --- a/old/63417-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4922 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Wishing-Stone Stories, by Thornton W. -(Thornton Waldo) Burgess, Illustrated by Harrison Cady - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: The Wishing-Stone Stories - - -Author: Thornton W. (Thornton Waldo) Burgess - - - -Release Date: October 9, 2020 [eBook #63417] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WISHING-STONE STORIES*** - - -E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) - - - - -Transcriber’s note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - An additional Transcriber’s Note is at the end. - - - - - -[Illustration: “IT MUST BE GREAT TO BE ABLE TO FLY LIKE THAT”] - - -THE WISHING-STONE STORIES - -by - -THORNTON W. BURGESS - -With Illustrations by Harrison Cady - - -[Illustration] - - - - - - -Boston -Little, Brown, and Company -1936 - -Copyright, 1915, 1921, -by Thornton W. Burgess - -All rights reserved - -Printed in the United States of America - - - * * * * * - - -To the cause of love, mercy and protection for our little friends of -the air and the wild-wood, and to a better understanding of them, the -Wishing-Stone Stories are dedicated. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - _TOMMY AND THE WISHING-STONE_ - - I TOMMY AND THE WISHING-STONE 1 - - II HOW TOMMY LEARNED TO ADMIRE - THUNDERER THE RUFFED GROUSE 25 - - III WHAT HAPPENED WHEN TOMMY - BECAME A MINK 55 - - IV TOMMY BECOMES A VERY HUMBLE - PERSON 81 - - _TOMMY’S WISHES COME TRUE_ - - I WHY PETER RABBIT HAS ONE LESS - ENEMY 1 - - II WHY TOMMY BECAME A FRIEND - OF RED SQUIRRELS 28 - - III THE PLEASURES AND TROUBLES OF - BOBBY COON 57 - - IV HOW TOMMY ENVIED HONKER - THE GOOSE 84 - - _TOMMY’S CHANGE OF HEART_ - - I HOW IT HAPPENED THAT REDDY - FOX GAINED A FRIEND 1 - - II TOMMY BECOMES A FURRY ENGINEER 32 - - III WHY TOMMY TOOK UP ALL HIS - TRAPS 60 - - IV TOMMY LEARNS WHAT IT IS LIKE - TO BE A BEAR 91 - - * * * * * - -TOMMY AND THE WISHING-STONE - - * * * * * - -TOMMY AND THE WISHING-STONE - - - - -CHAPTER ONE TOMMY AND THE WISHING-STONE - - -Tommy scuffed his bare, brown feet in the grass and didn’t even notice -how cooling and refreshing to his bare toes the green blades were. -Usually he just loved to feel them, but this afternoon he just didn’t -want to find anything pleasant or nice in the things he was accustomed -to. A scowl, a deep, dark, heavy scowl, had chased all merriment from -his round, freckled face. It seemed as if the very freckles were trying -to hide from it. - -Tommy didn’t care. He said so. He said so right out loud. He didn’t -care if all the world knew it. He wanted the world to know it. It was -a horrid old world anyway, this world which made a fellow go hunt up -and drive home a lot of pesky cows just when all the other fellows were -over at the swimming-hole. It always was that way whenever there was -anything interesting or particular to do, or any fun going on. Yes, it -was a horrid old world, this world in which Tommy lived, and he was -quite willing that everybody should know it. - -The truth was, Tommy was deep, very deep, in the sulks. He was so deep -in them that he couldn’t see jolly round Mr. Sun smiling down on him. -He couldn’t see anything lovely in the beautiful, broad, Green Meadows -with the shadows of the clouds chasing one another across them. He -couldn’t hear the music of the birds and the bees. He couldn’t even -hear the Merry Little Breezes whispering secrets as they danced around -him. He couldn’t see and hear because--well, because he _wouldn’t_ see -and hear. That is always the way with people who go way down deep in -the sulks. - -Presently he came to a great big stone. Tommy stopped and scowled at it -just as he had been scowling at everybody and everything. He scowled at -it as if he thought it had no business to be there. Yet all the time he -was glad that it was there. It was just the right size to sit on and -try to make himself happy by being perfectly miserable. You know, some -people actually find pleasure in thinking how miserable they are. The -more miserable they can make themselves feel, the sooner they begin to -pity themselves, and when they begin to pity themselves they seem to -find what Uncle Jason calls a “melancholy pleasure.” - -It was that way with Tommy. Because no one else seemed to pity him, he -wanted to pity himself, and to do that right he must first make himself -feel the most miserable he possibly could. So he sat down on the big -stone, waved his stick for a few moments and then threw it away, put -his chin in his two hands and his two elbows on his two knees, and -began by scowling down at his bare, brown toes. - -“There’s never anything to do around here, and when there is, a fellow -can’t do it,” he grumbled. “Other fellows don’t have to weed the -garden, and bring in wood, and drive the cows, and when they do it, it -isn’t just when they want to have some fun. What’s vacation for, if it -isn’t to have a good time in? And how’s a fellow going to do it when -he has to work all the time--anyway when he has to work just when he -doesn’t want to?” He was trying to be truthful. - -“Fellows who live in town have something going on all the time, while -out here there’s nothing but fields, and woods, and sky, and--and cows -that haven’t sense enough to come home themselves when it’s time. -There’s never anything exciting or int’resting ’round here. I wish----” - -He suddenly became aware of two very small bright eyes watching him -from a little opening in the grass. He scowled at them harder than -ever, and moved ever so little. The eyes disappeared, but a minute -later they were back again, full of curiosity, a little doubtful, a -little fearful, but tremendously interested. They were the eyes of -Danny Meadow Mouse. Tommy knew them right away. Of course he did. -Hadn’t he chased Danny with sticks and stones time and again? But -he didn’t think of this now. He was too full of his own troubles to -remember that others had troubles too. - -Somehow Danny’s twinkling little eyes seemed to mock him. How unjust -things were! - -“_You_ don’t have to work!” he exploded so suddenly and fiercely that -Danny gave a frightened squeak and took to his heels. “You don’t have -anything to do but play all day and have a good time. I wish I was a -meadow-mouse!” - -Right then and there something happened. Tommy didn’t know how it -happened, but it just did. Instead of a bare-legged, freckle-faced, -sulky boy sitting on the big stone, he suddenly found himself a -little, chunky, blunt-headed, furry animal with four short legs and -a ridiculously short stubby tail. And he was scampering after Danny -Meadow Mouse along a private little path through the meadow-grass. He -was a meadow-mouse himself! His wish had come true! - -Tommy felt very happy. He had forgotten that he ever was a boy. He -raced along the private little path just as if he had always been -accustomed to just such private little paths. It might be very hot out -in the sun, but down there among the sheltering grass stems it was -delightfully cool and comfortable. He tried to shout for very joy, -but what he really did do was to squeak. It was a thin, sharp little -squeak. It was answered right away from in front of him, and Tommy -didn’t like the sound of it. Being a meadow-mouse now, he understood -the speech of meadow-mice, and he knew that Danny Meadow Mouse was -demanding to know who was running in his private little path. Tommy -suspected by the angry sound of Danny’s voice that he meant to fight. - -Tommy hesitated. Then he stopped. He didn’t want to fight. You see, -he knew that he had no business in that path without an invitation -from the owner. If it had been his own path he would have been eager -to fight. But it wasn’t, and so he thought it best to avoid trouble. -He turned and scampered back a little way to a tiny branch path. He -followed this until it also branched, and then took the new path. - -But none of these paths really belonged to him. He wanted some of his -very own. Now the only way to have a private path of your very own in -the Green Meadows is to make it, unless you are big enough and strong -enough to take one away from some one else. - -So Tommy set to work to make a path of his own, and he did it by -cutting the grass one stem at a time. The very tender ones he ate. The -dry ones he carried to an old board he had discovered, and under this -he made a nest, using the finest, softest grasses for the inside. Of -course it was work. As a matter of fact, had he, as a boy, had to work -one-tenth as much or as hard as he now had to work as a meadow-mouse, -he would have felt sure that he was the most abused boy who ever lived. -But, being a meadow-mouse, he didn’t think anything about it, and -scurried back and forth as fast as ever he could, just stopping now and -then to rest. He knew that he must work for everything he had--that -without work he would have nothing. And somehow this all seemed -perfectly right. He was busy, and in keeping busy he kept happy. - -Presently, as he sat down to rest a minute, a Merry Little Breeze came -hurrying along, and brought with it just the faintest kind of a sound. -It made his heart jump. Every little unexpected sound made his heart -jump. He listened with all his might. There it was again! Something -was stealing very, very softly through the grass. He felt sure it was -danger of some kind. Then he did a foolish thing--he ran. You see, he -was so frightened that he felt that he just couldn’t sit still a second -longer. So he ran. The instant he moved, something big and terrible -sprang at him, and two great paws with sharp claws spread out all but -landed on him. He gave a frightened squeak, and darted under a fallen -old fence-post that lay half hidden in the tall grass. - -“What’s the matter with you?” demanded a voice. Tommy found that he had -company. It was another meadow-mouse. - -“I--I’ve had such a narrow escape!” panted Tommy. “A terrible creature -with awful claws almost caught me!” - -The stranger peeped out to see. “Pooh!” said he, “that was only a cat. -Cats don’t know much. If you keep your ears and eyes open, it’s easy -enough to fool cats. But they are a terrible nuisance, just the same, -because they are always prowling around when you least expect them. -I hate cats! It is bad enough to have to watch out all the time for -enemies who live on the Green Meadows, without having to be always -looking to see if a cat is about. A cat hasn’t any excuse at all. It -has all it wants to eat without trying to catch us. It hunts just out -of love of cruelty. Now Reddy Fox has some excuse; he has to eat. Too -bad he’s so fond of meadow-mice. Speaking of Reddy, have you seen him -lately?” - -Tommy shook his head. “I guess it’s safe enough to go out now,” -continued the stranger. “I know where there is a lot of dandy corn; -let’s go get some.” - -Tommy was quite willing. The stranger led the way. First he looked -this way and that way, and listened for any sound of danger. Tommy did -likewise. But the way seemed clear, and away they scampered. Right away -Tommy was happy again. He had forgotten his recent fright. That is the -way with little people of the Green Meadows. But he didn’t forget to -keep his ears and his eyes wide open for new dangers. They reached -the corn safely, and then such a feast as they did have! It seemed to -Tommy that never had he tasted anything half so good. Right in the -midst of the feast, the stranger gave a faint little squeak and darted -under a pile of old cornstalks. Tommy didn’t stop to ask questions, but -followed right at his heels. A big, black shadow swept over them and -then passed on. Tommy peeped out. There was a great bird with huge, -broad wings sailing back and forth over the meadows. - -“It’s old Whitetail the Marsh Hawk. He didn’t get us that time!” -chuckled the stranger, and crept back to the delicious corn. In two -minutes, they were having as good a time as before, just as if they -hadn’t had a narrow escape. When they had eaten all they could hold, -the stranger went back to his old fence-post and Tommy returned to his -own private paths and the snug nest he had built under the old board. -He was sleepy, and he curled up for a good long nap. - -When he awoke, the first stars were beginning to twinkle down at him -from the sky, and Black Shadows lay over the Green Meadows. He found -that he could see quite as well as in the light of day, and, because -he was already hungry again, he started out to look for something to -eat. Something inside warned him that he must watch out for danger now -just as sharply as before, though the Black Shadows seemed to promise -safety. Just what he was to watch out for he didn’t know, still every -few steps he stopped to look and listen. - -He found that this was visiting time among the meadow-mice, and he -made a great many friends. There was a great deal of scurrying back -and forth along private little paths, and a great deal of squeaking. -At least, that is what Tommy would have called it had he still been a -boy, but as it was, he understood it perfectly, for it was meadow-mouse -language. Suddenly not a sound was to be heard, not a single squeak or -the sound of scurrying feet. Tommy sat perfectly still and held his -breath. He didn’t know why, but something inside told him to, and he -did. Then something passed over him. It was like a Black Shadow, and it -was just as silent as a Black Shadow. But Tommy knew that it wasn’t -a Black Shadow, for out of it two great, round, fierce, yellow eyes -glared down and struck such terror to his heart that it almost stopped -beating. But they didn’t see him, and he gave a tiny sigh of relief as -he watched the grim living shadow sail on. While he watched, there was -a frightened little squeak, two legs with great curved claws dropped -down from the shadow, plunged into the grass, and when they came up -again they held a little limp form. A little mouse had moved when he -shouldn’t have, and Hooty the Owl had caught a dinner. - -A dozen times that night Tommy sat quite frozen with fear while Hooty -passed, but after each time he joined with his fellows in merry-making -just as if there was no such thing as this terrible feathered hunter -with the silent wings, only each one was ready to hide at the first -sign of danger. When he grew tired of playing and eating, he returned -to his snug nest under the old board to sleep. He was still asleep -there the next morning when, without any warning, the old board was -lifted. In great fright Tommy ran out of his nest, and at once there -was a great shout from a huge giant, who struck at him with a stick -and then chased him, throwing sticks and stones, none of which hit -him, but which frightened him terribly. He dodged down a little path -and ran for his life, while behind him he heard the giant (it was just -a boy) shouting and laughing as he poked about in the grass trying to -find poor Tommy, and Tommy wondered what he could be laughing about, -and what fun there could be in frightening a poor little meadow-mouse -almost to death. - -Later that very same morning, while he was hard at work cutting a -new path, he heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see a big, -black bird stalking along the little path. He didn’t wait for closer -acquaintance, but dived into the thick grass, and, as he did so, the -big, black bird made a lunge at him, but missed him. It was his first -meeting with Blacky the Crow, and he had learned of one more enemy to -watch out for. - -[Illustration: BLACKY THE CROW] - -But most of all he feared Reddy Fox. He never could be quite sure when -Reddy was about. Sometimes it would be in broad daylight, and sometimes -in the stilly night. The worst of it was, Reddy seemed to know all -about the ways of meadow-mice, and would lie perfectly still beside a -little path until an unsuspecting mouse came along. Then there would -be a sudden spring, a little squeak cut short right in the middle, and -there would be one less happy little worker and playmate. So Tommy -learned to look and listen before he started for any place, and then to -scurry as fast as ever he could. - -Twice Mr. Gopher Snake almost caught him, and once he got away from -Billy Mink by squeezing into a hole between some roots too small for -Billy to get in. It was a very exciting life, very exciting indeed. -He couldn’t understand why, when all he wanted was to be allowed to -mind his own business and work and play in peace, he must be forever -running or hiding for his life. He loved the sweet meadow-grasses and -the warm sunshine. He loved to hear the bees humming and the birds -singing. He thought the Green Meadows the most beautiful place in all -the Great World, and he was very happy when he wasn’t frightened; but -there was hardly an hour of the day or night that he didn’t have at -least one terrible fright. - -Still, it was good to be alive and explore new places. There was a -big rock in front of him right now. He wondered if there was anything -to eat on top of it. Sometimes he found the very nicest seeds in the -cracks of big rocks. This one looked as if it would not be very hard to -scramble up on. He felt almost sure that he would find some treasure -up there. He looked this way and that way to make sure no one was -watching. Then he scrambled up on the big rock. - -For a few minutes, Tommy stared out over the Green Meadows. They were -very beautiful. It seemed to him that they never had been so beautiful, -or the songs of the birds so sweet, or the Merry Little Breezes, the -children of Old Mother West Wind, so soft and caressing. He couldn’t -understand it all, for he wasn’t a meadow-mouse--just a barefooted boy -sitting on a big stone that was just made to sit on. - -As he looked down, he became aware of two very small bright eyes -watching him from a little opening in the grass. He knew them right -away. Of course he did. They were the eyes of Danny Meadow Mouse. They -were filled with curiosity, a little doubtful, a little fearful, but -tremendously interested. Tommy smiled, and felt in his pocket for some -cracker-crumbs. Danny ran away at the first move, but Tommy scattered -the crumbs where he could find them, as he was sure to come back. - -Tommy stood up and stretched. Then he turned and looked curiously -at the stone on which he had been sitting. “I believe it’s a real -wishing-stone,” said he. Then he laughed aloud. “I’m glad I’m not -a meadow-mouse, but just a boy!” he cried. “I guess those cows are -wondering what has become of me.” - -He started toward the pasture, and now there was no frown darkening -his freckled face. It was clear and good to see, and he whistled as he -trampled along. Once he stopped and grinned sheepishly as his blue -eyes drank in the beauty of the Green Meadows and beyond them the Green -Forest. “And I said there was nothing interesting or exciting going on -here! Why, it’s the most exciting place I ever heard of, only I didn’t -know it before!” he muttered. “Gee, I _am_ glad I’m not a meadow-mouse, -and if ever I throw sticks or stones at one again, I--well I hope I -turn into one!” - -And though Danny Meadow Mouse, timidly nibbling at the cracker-crumbs, -didn’t know it, he had one less enemy to be afraid of! - - - - -CHAPTER TWO HOW TOMMY LEARNED TO ADMIRE THUNDERER THE RUFFED GROUSE - - -From over in the Green Forest where the silver beeches grow, came a -sound which made Tommy stop to listen. For a minute or two all was -still. Then it came again, a deep, throbbing sound that began slowly -and then grew faster and faster until it ended in a long rumble like -distant thunder. Tommy knew it couldn’t be that, for there wasn’t a -cloud in the sky; and anyway it wasn’t the season of thunder-storms. -Again he heard that deep hollow throbbing grow fast and faster until -there was no time between the beats and it became a thunderous rumble; -and for some reason which he could not have explained, Tommy felt his -pulse beat faster in unison, and a strange sense of joyous exhilaration. - -_Drum--drum--drum--drum--drum, drum, drum, dr-r-r-r-r-r-um!_ The sound -beat out from beyond the hemlocks and rolled away through the woods. - -“It’s an old cock-partridge drumming.” Tommy had a way of talking to -himself when he was alone. “He’s down on that old beech log at the head -of the gully. Gee, I’d like to see him! Bet it’s the same one that -was there last year. Dad says that old log is a reg’lar drumming-log -and he’s seen partridges drum there lots of times. And yet he doesn’t -really know how they make all that noise. Says some folks say they -beat the log with their wings, and, because it’s hollow, it makes that -sound. Don’t believe it, though. They’d break their wings doing that. -Besides, that old log isn’t much hollow anyway, and I never can make it -sound up much hammering it with a stick; so how could a partridge do it -with nothing but his wings? - -“Some other folks say they do it by hitting their wings together over -their backs; but I don’t see any sense in that, because their wings are -mostly feathers. And some say they beat their sides to make the noise; -but if they do that, I should think they’d knock all the wind out of -themselves and be too sore to move. Bet if I could ever catch ol’ -Thunderer drumming, I’d find out how he does it! I know what I’ll do! -I’ll go over to the old wishing-stone. Wonder why I didn’t think of it -before. Then I’ll find out a lot.” - -He thrust his hands into his pockets and trudged up the Crooked Little -Path, out of the Green Forest, and over to the great gray stone on -the edge of the Green Meadows where once a wish had come true, or had -seemed to come true, anyway, and where he had learned so much about the -life of Danny Meadow Mouse. As he tramped, his thoughts were all of -Thunderer the Ruffed Grouse, whom he called a partridge, and some other -people call a pheasant, but who is neither. - -Many times had Tommy been startled by having the handsome bird spring -into the air from almost under his feet, with a noise of wings that was -enough to scare anybody. It was because of this and the noise of his -drumming that Tommy called him Thunderer. - -With a long sigh of satisfaction, for he was tired, Tommy sat down on -the wishing-stone, planted his elbows on his knees, dropped his chin in -his hands, looked over to the Green Forest through half-closed eyes, -and wished. - -“I wish,” said he, slowly and earnestly, “I could be a partridge.” He -meant, of course, that he could be a grouse. - -Just as had happened before when he had expressed such a wish on the -old wishing-stone, the very instant the words were out of his mouth, he -ceased to be a boy. He was a tiny little bird, like nothing so much as -a teeny, weeny chicken, a soft little ball of brown and yellow, one of -a dozen, who all looked alike as they scurried after their little brown -mother in answer to her anxious cluck. - -Behind them, on the ground, cunningly hidden back of a fallen tree, was -an empty nest with only some bits of shell as a reminder that, just a -few hours before, it had contained twelve buff eggs. Now Tommy and his -brothers and sisters didn’t give the old nest so much as a thought. -They had left it as soon as they were strong enough to run. They were -starting out for their first lesson in the school of the Great World. - -Perhaps Tommy thought his mother fussy and altogether a great deal too -nervous; but if he did, he didn’t say so. There was one thing that -seemed to have been born in him, something that as a boy he had to -learn, and that was the habit of instant obedience. - -It was instinct, which, so naturalists say, is habit confirmed and -handed down through many generations. Tommy didn’t know why he obeyed. -He just did, that was all. It didn’t occur to him that there was -anything else to do. The idea of disobeying never entered his funny, -pretty little head. And it was just so with all the others. Mother -Grouse had only to speak and they did just exactly what she told them -to. - -This habit of obedience on their part took a great load from the mind -of Mother Grouse. They hadn’t been in the Great World long enough to -know, but she knew that there were dangers on every side; and to watch -out for and protect them from these she needed all her senses, and -she couldn’t afford to dull any of them by useless worrying. So it was -a great relief to her to know that, when she had bidden them hide and -keep perfectly still until she called them, they would do exactly as -she said. This made it possible for her to leave them long enough to -lead an enemy astray, and be sure that when she returned she would find -them just where she had left them. - -She had to do this twice on their very first journey into the Great -World. Tommy was hurrying along with the others as fast as his small -legs could take him when his mother gave a sharp but low call to hide. -There was a dried leaf on the ground close to Tommy. Instantly he crept -under it and flattened his small self to the ground, closed his eyes -tight, and listened with all his might. - -He heard the whir of strong wings as Mother Grouse took flight. If he -had peeped out, he would have seen that she flew only a very little -way, and that, when she came to earth again, there appeared to be -something the matter with her, so that she flopped along instead of -running or flying. But he didn’t see this, because he was under that -dead leaf. - -Presently, the ground vibrated under the steps of heavy feet that -all but trod on the leaf under which Tommy lay, and frightened him -terribly. But he did not move and he made no sound. Again, had he -peeped out, he would have seen Mother Grouse fluttering along the -ground just ahead of an eager boy who thought to catch her and tried -and tried until he had been led far from the place where her babies -were. - -Then all was still, so still that surely there could be no danger near. -Surely it was safe to come out now. But Tommy didn’t move, nor did any -of his brothers and sisters. They had been told not to until they were -called, and it never once entered their little heads to disobey. Mother -knew best. - -At last there came a gentle cluck. Instantly Tommy popped out from -under his leaf to see his brothers and sisters popping out from the -most unexpected places all about him. It seemed almost as if they had -popped out of the very ground itself. And there was Mother Grouse, very -proud and very fussy, as she made sure that all her babies were there. - -Later that same day the same thing happened, only this time there was -no heavy footstep, but the lightest kind of patter as cushioned feet -eagerly hurried past, and Reddy Fox sprang forward, sure that Mother -Grouse was to make him the dinner he liked best, and thus was led away -to a safe distance, there to realize how completely he had been fooled. - -It was a wonderful day, that first day. There was a great ant-hill -which Mother Grouse scratched open with her stout claws, exposing ever -and ever so many white things, which were the so-called eggs of the -big black ants, and which were delicious eating, as Tommy soon found -out. It was great fun to scramble for them, and eat and eat until not -another one could be swallowed. And when the shadow began to creep -through the Green Forest, they nestled close under Mother Grouse in one -of her favorite secret hiding-places and straightway went to sleep as -healthy children should, sure that no harm could befall them, nor once -guessed how lightly their mother slept and more than once shivered with -fear, not for herself but for them, as some prowler of the night passed -their retreat. - -So the days passed and Tommy grew and learned, and it was a question -which he did the faster. The down with which he had been covered gave -way to real feathers and he grew real wings, so that he was little -over a week old when he could fly in case of need. And in that same -length of time, short as it was, he had filled his little head with -knowledge. He had learned that a big sandy dome in a sunny spot in the -woods usually meant an ants’ castle, where he could eat to his heart’s -content if only it was torn open for him. - -He had learned that luscious fat worms and bugs were to be found under -rotting pieces of bark and the litter of decaying old logs and stumps. -He had learned that wild strawberries and some other berries afforded a -welcome variety to his bill of fare. - -[Illustration: BUGS WERE TO BE FOUND UNDER OLD LOGS] - -He had learned that a daily bath in fine dust was necessary for -cleanliness as well as being vastly comforting. He had learned that -danger lurked in the air as well as on the ground, for a swooping -hawk had caught one of his brothers who had not instantly heeded his -mother’s warning. - -But most important of all, he had learned the value of that first -lesson in obedience, and to trust wholly to the wisdom of Mother Grouse -and never to question her commands. - -A big handsome grouse had joined them now. It was old Thunderer, and -sometimes when he would throw back his head, spread his beautiful tail -until it was like a fan, raise the crest on his head and the glossy -ruff on his neck, and proudly strut ahead of them, Tommy thought him -the most beautiful sight in all the world and wondered if ever he would -grow to be half as handsome. While he did little work in the care of -the brood, Thunderer was of real help to Mother Grouse in guarding the -little family from ever-lurking dangers. There was no eye or ear more -keen than his, and none more skillful than he in confusing and baffling -a hungry enemy who had chanced to discover the presence of the little -family. Tommy watched him every minute he could spare from the ever -important business of filling his crop, and stored up for future need -the things he learned. - -Once he ventured to ask Thunderer what was the greatest danger for -which a grouse must watch out, and he never forgot the answer. - -“There is no greatest danger while you are young,” replied Thunderer, -shaking out his feathers. “Every danger is greatest while it exists. -Never forget that. Never treat any danger lightly. Skunks and foxes and -weasels and minks and coons and hawks and owls are equally dangerous -to youngsters like you, and one is as much to be feared as another. It -is only when you have become full-grown, like me, and then only in the -fall of the year, that you will know the greatest danger.” - -“And what is that?” asked Tommy timidly. - -“A man with a gun,” replied Thunderer. - -“And what is that?” asked Tommy again, eager for knowledge. - -“A great creature who walks on two legs and points a stick which spits -fire and smoke, and makes a great noise, and kills while it is yet a -long distance off.” - -“Oh!” gasped Tommy. “How is one ever to learn to avoid such a dreadful -danger as that?” - -“I’ll teach you when the time comes,” replied Thunderer. “Now run along -and take your dust-bath. You must first learn to avoid other dangers -before you will be fitted to meet the greatest danger.” - -All that long bright summer Tommy thought of that greatest danger, -and, by learning how to meet other dangers, tried to prepare himself -for it. Sometimes he wondered if there really could be any greater -danger than those about him every day. It seemed sometimes as if all -the world sought to kill him, who was so harmless himself. Not only -were there dangers from hungry animals, and robbers of the air, but -also from the very creatures that furnished him much of his living--the -tribe of insects. An ugly-looking insect, called a tick, with wicked -blood-sucking jaws, killed one of the brood while they were yet small, -and an equally ugly worm called a bot-worm caused the death of another. - -Shadow the Weasel surprised one foolish bird who insisted on sleeping -on the ground when he was big enough to know better, and Reddy Fox -dined on another whose curiosity led him to move when he had been -warned to lie perfectly still, and who paid for his disobedience with -his life. Tommy, not three feet away, saw it all and profited by the -lesson. - -He was big enough now to act for himself and no longer depended wholly -for safety on the wisdom of Mother Grouse and Thunderer. But while he -trusted to his own senses and judgment, he was ever heedful of their -example and still ready to learn. Especially did he take pains to keep -near Thunderer and study him and his ways, for he was wise and cunning -with the cunning of experience and knowledge. Tommy was filled with -great admiration for him and tried to copy him in everything. - -Thus it was that he learned that there were two ways of flying, one -without noise and the other with the thunder of whirring wings. Also -he learned that there was a time for each. When he knew himself to be -alone and suddenly detected the approach of an enemy, he often would -launch himself into the air on silent wings before his presence had -been discovered. But when others of his family were near, he would -burst into the air with all the noise he could make as a warning to -others. Also, it sometimes startled and confused the enemy. - -Thunderer had taught him the trick one day when Reddy Fox had stolen, -unseen by Tommy, almost within jumping distance. Thunderer had seen -him, and purposely had waited until Reddy was just gathering himself -to spring on the unsuspecting Tommy. Then with a splendid roar of -his stout wings Thunderer had risen just to one side of the fox, so -startling him and distracting his attention that Tommy had had ample -time to whir up in his turn, to the discomfiture of Reddy Fox. - -So, when the fall came, Tommy was big from good living, and filled with -the knowledge that makes for long life among grouse. He knew the best -scratching-grounds, the choicest feeding-places according to the month, -every bramble-tangle and every brush-pile, the place for the warmest -sun-bath, and the trees which afforded the safest and most comfortable -roosting places at night. - -He knew the ways and the favorite hunting-grounds of every fox, and -weasel, and skunk, and coon of the neighborhood, and how to avoid them. -He knew when it was safest to lie low and trust to the protective -coloring of his feathers, and when it was best to roar away on -thundering wings. - -The days grew crisp and shorter. The maples turned red and yellow, and -soon the woods were filled with fluttering leaves and the trees began -to grow bare. It was then that old Thunderer warned Tommy that the -season of greatest danger was at hand. Somehow, in the confidence of -his strength and the joy of the splendid tide of life surging through -him, he didn’t fear this unknown danger as he had when as a little -fellow he had first heard of it. Then one day, quite unexpectedly, he -faced it. - -He and Thunderer had been resting quietly in a bramble-tangle on the -very edge of the Green Forest, when suddenly there was the rustle of -padded feet in the leaves just outside the brambles. Looking out, Tommy -saw what at first he took to be a strange and very large kind of fox, -and he prepared to fly. - -“Not yet! Not yet!” warned Thunderer. “That is a dog and he will not -harm us. But to fly now might be to go straight into that greatest -danger, of which I had told you. That is the mistake young grouse -often make, flying before they know just where the danger is. Watch -until you see the two-legged creature with the fire-stick, then follow -me and do just as I do.” - -The dog was very near now. In fact, he had his nose in the brambles -and was standing as still as if turned to stone, one of his fore feet -lifted and pointing straight at them. No one moved. Presently Tommy -heard heavy steps, and, looking through the brambles, saw the great -two-legged creature of whom Thunderer had told him. - -“Now!” cried Thunderer. “Do as I do!” With a great roar of wings he -burst out of the tangle on the opposite side from where the hunter was, -and flying low, so as to keep the brambles between himself and the -hunter, swerved sharply to the left to put a tree between them, and -then flew like a bullet straight into the Green Forest where the trees -were thickest, skillfully dodging the great trunks, and at last at a -safe distance sailing up over the tops to take to the ground on the -other side of a hill and there run swiftly for a way. - -Tommy followed closely, doing exactly as Thunderer did. Even as he -swerved behind the first tree, he heard a terrible double roar behind -him and the sharp whistle of things which cut through the leaves around -him and struck the tree behind him. One even nipped a brown feather -from his back. He was terribly frightened, but he was unhurt as he -joined Thunderer behind the hill. - -“Now you know what the greatest danger is,” said Thunderer. “Never fly -until you know just where the hunter is, and then fly back of a bush or -a tree, the bigger the better, or drop over the edge of a bank if there -is one. Make as much noise as you can when you get up. It may startle -the hunter so that he cannot point his fire-stick straight. If he has -no dog, it is sometimes best to lie still until he has passed and then -fly silently. If there is no tree or other cover near enough when you -first see the dog, run swiftly until you reach a place where it will be -safe to take wing.” - -For the next few weeks it seemed as if from daylight to dark the woods -were filled with dogs and hunters, and Tommy knew no hour of peace and -security until the coming of night. Many a dreadful tragedy did Tommy -see when companions, less cunning than old Thunderer, were stricken in -mid-air and fell lifeless to the ground. But he, learning quickly and -doing as Thunderer did, escaped unharmed. - -At last the law, of which Tommy knew nothing, put an end to the murder -of the innocents, and for another year the greatest danger was over. -But now came a new danger. It was the month of madness. Tommy and -all his companions were seized with an irresistible desire to fly -aimlessly, blindly, sometimes in the darkness of night, they knew not -where. And in this mad flight some met death, breaking their necks -against buildings and against telegraph wires. Where he went or what he -did during this period of madness, Tommy never knew; but when it left -him as abruptly as it had come, he found himself in the street of a -village. - -With swift strong wings he shot into the air and headed straight back -for the dear Green Forest, now no longer green save where the hemlocks -and pines grew. Once back there, he took up the old life and was happy, -for he felt himself a match for any foe. The days grew shorter and the -cold increased. There were still seeds and acorns and some berries, but -with the coming of the snow these became more and more scarce and Tommy -was obliged to resort to catkins and buds on the trees. Between his -toes there grew little horny projections, which were his snowshoes and -enabled him to get about on the snow without sinking in. He learned to -dive into the deep soft snow for warmth and safety. Once he was nearly -trapped there. A hard crust formed in the night and, when morning came, -Tommy had hard work to break out. - -So the long winter wore away and spring came with all its gladness. -Tommy was fully as big as old Thunderer now and just as handsome, and -he began to take pride in his appearance and to strut. One day he came -to an old log, and, jumping up on it, strutted back and forth proudly -with his fan-like tail spread its fullest and his broad ruff raised. -Then he heard the long rolling thunder of another grouse drumming. -Instantly he began to beat his wings against the air, not as in flying, -but with a more downward motion, and to his great delight there rolled -from under them that same thunder. Slowly he beat at first and then -faster and faster, until he was forced to stop for breath. He was -drumming! Then he listened for a reply. - -_Drum--drum--drum--drum--drum, drum, drum, dr-r-r-r-r-r-rum._ Tommy’s -eyes flew open. He was sitting on the old wishing-stone on the edge -of the Green Meadows. For a minute he blinked in confusion. Then, -from over in the Green Forest, came that sound like distant thunder, -_drum--drum--drum--drum--drum, drum, drum, dr-r-r-r-r-r-rum_. - -“It’s ol’ Thunderer again on that beech log!” cried Tommy. “And now I -know how he does it. He just beats the air. I know, because I’ve done -it myself. Geewhilikens, I’m glad I’m not really a partridge! Bet I’ll -never hunt one after this, or let anybody else if I can help it. Isn’t -this old wishing-stone the dandy place to learn things, though! I guess -the only way of really knowing how birds and animals live and feel is -by being one of ’em. Somehow it makes things look all different. Just -listen to ol’ Thunderer drum! I know now just how fine he feels. I’m -going to get Father to put up a sign and stop all shooting in our part -of the Green Forest next fall, and then there won’t be any greatest -danger there.” - -And Tommy, whistling merrily, started for home. - - - - -CHAPTER THREE WHAT HAPPENED WHEN TOMMY BECAME A MINK - - -It was not often that Tommy caught so much as a glimpse of Billy Mink; -and every time he did, he had the feeling that he had been smart, very -smart indeed. The funny thing is that this feeling annoyed Tommy. Yes, -it did. It annoyed him because it seemed so very foolish to think -that there was anything smart in just _seeing_ Billy Mink. And yet -every time he did see him, he had the feeling that he had really done -something out of the usual. - -Little by little, he realized that it was because Billy Mink himself is -so smart, and manages to keep out of sight so much of the time, that -just seeing him once in a while gave him the feeling of being smarter -than Billy. - -At the same time, he was never quite sure that Billy didn’t intend to -be seen. Somehow that little brown-coated scamp always seemed to be -playing with him. He would appear so suddenly that Tommy never could -tell just where he came from. And he would disappear quite as quickly. -Tommy never could tell where he went. He just vanished, that was all. -It was this that made Tommy feel that he had been smart to see him at -all. - -Now Tommy had been acquainted with Billy Mink for a long time. That is -to say, he had known Billy by sight. More than that, he had tried to -trap Billy, and in trying to trap him he had learned some of Billy’s -ways. In fact, Tommy had spent a great deal of time trying to catch -Billy. You see, he wanted that little brown fur coat of Billy’s because -he could sell it. But it was very clear that Billy wanted that little -fur coat himself to wear, and also that he knew all about traps. - -So Billy still wore his coat, and Tommy had taken up his traps and -put them away with a sigh for the money which he had hoped that that -coat would bring him, and with a determination that, when cold weather -should come again, he would get it. You see it was summer now, and the -little fur coat was of no value then save to Billy himself. - -In truth, Tommy would have forgotten all about it until autumn came -again had not Billy suddenly popped out in front of him that very -morning, while Tommy was trying to catch a trout in a certain quiet -pool in the Laughing Brook deep in the Green Forest. Tommy had been -sitting perfectly still, like the good fisherman that he was, not -making the tiniest sound, when he just seemed to feel two eyes fixed -on him. Very, very slowly Tommy turned his head. He did it so slowly -that it almost seemed as if he didn’t move it at all. But careful as he -was, he had no more than a bare glimpse of a little brown animal, who -disappeared as by magic. - -“It’s that mink,” thought Tommy, and continued to stare at the spot -where he had last seen Billy. The rustle of a leaf almost behind him -caused him to forget and to turn quickly. Again he had just a glimpse -of something brown. Then it was gone. Where, he hadn’t the least idea. -It was gone, that was all. - -Tommy forgot all about trout. It was more fun to try to get a good look -at Billy Mink and to see what he was doing and where he was going. -Tommy remembered all that he had been taught or had read about how to -act when trying to watch his little wild neighbors and he did the best -he could, but all he got was a fleeting glimpse now and then which was -most tantalizing. At last he gave up and reeled in his fish-line. Then -he started for home. All the way he kept thinking of Billy Mink. He -couldn’t get Billy out of his head. - -Little by little he realized how, when all was said and done, he -didn’t know anything about Billy. That is, he didn’t really _know_--he -just guessed at things. - -“And here he is one of my neighbors,” thought Tommy. “I know a great -deal about Peter Rabbit, and Chatterer the Red Squirrel, and Reddy Fox, -and a lot of others, but I don’t know anything about Billy Mink, and -he’s too smart to let me find out. Huh! he needn’t be so secret about -everything. I’m not going to hurt him.” - -Then into Tommy’s head crept a guilty remembrance of those traps. A -little flush crept into Tommy’s face. “Anyway, I’m not going to hurt -him _now_,” he added. - -By this time he had reached the great gray stone on the edge of the -Green Meadows, the wishing-stone. Just as a matter of course he sat -down on the edge of it. He never could get by without sitting down on -it. - -It was a very beautiful scene that stretched out before Tommy, but, -though he seemed to be gazing out at it, he didn’t see it at all. -He was looking through unseeing eyes. The fact is, he was too busy -thinking, and his thoughts were all of Billy Mink. It must be great fun -to be able to go and come any hour of the day or night, and to be so -nimble and smart. - -“I wish I were a mink,” said Tommy, slowly and very earnestly. - -Of course you know what happened then. The same thing happened that -had happened before on the old wishing-stone. Tommy was the very thing -he had wished to be. He was a mink. Yes, sir, Tommy was a tiny furry -little fellow, with brothers and sisters and the nicest little home, in -a hollow log hidden among bulrushes, close by the Laughing Brook and -with a big pile of brush near it. Indeed, one end of the old log was -under the brush-pile. - -That made the very safest kind of a play-ground for the little minks. -It was there that Mother Mink gave them their first lessons in a game -called “Now-you-see-me-now-you-don’t.” They thought they were just -playing, but all the time they were learning something that would be -most important and useful to them when they were older. - -Tommy was very quick to learn and just as quick in his movements, so -that it wasn’t long before he could out-run, out-dodge, and out-hide -any of his companions, and Mother Mink began to pay special attention -to his education. She was proud of him, and because she was proud of -him she intended to teach him all the mink lore which she knew. - -So Tommy was the first of the family to be taken fishing. Ever since -he and his brothers and sisters had been big enough to eat solid food, -they had had fish as a part of their bill of fare, and there was -nothing that Tommy liked better. Where they came from, he had never -bothered to ask. All he cared about was the eating of them. But now -he was actually going to catch some, and he felt very important as he -glided along behind his mother. - -Presently they came to a dark, deep pool in the Laughing Brook. Mrs. -Mink peered into its depths. There was the glint of something silvery -down there in the brown water. In a flash Mrs. Mink had disappeared in -the pool, entering the water so smoothly as to hardly make a splash. -For a moment Tommy saw her dark form moving swiftly, then he lost it. -His little eyes blazed with eagerness and excitement as he watched. - -Ha! What was that? There was something moving under water on the other -side of the pool. Then out popped the brown head of Mrs. Mink and in -her teeth was a fat trout. Tommy’s mouth watered at the sight. What a -feast he would have! - -[Illustration: OUT POPPED THE BROWN HEAD OF MRS. MINK AND IN HER TEETH -WAS A FAT TROUT] - -But instead of bringing the fish to him, Mrs. Mink climbed out on the -opposite bank and disappeared in the brush there. Tommy swallowed -hard with disappointment. Could it be that he wasn’t to have any -of it after all? In a few minutes Mrs. Mink was back again, but there -was no sign of the fish. Then Tommy knew that she had hidden it, and -for just a minute a wicked thought popped into his head. He would swim -across and hunt for it. But Mother Mink didn’t give him a chance. -Though Tommy didn’t see it, there was a twinkle in her eyes as she said, - -“Now you have seen how easy it is to catch a fish, I shall expect you -to catch all you eat hereafter. Come along with me to the next pool and -show me how well you have learned your lesson.” - -She led the way down the Laughing Brook, and presently they came to -another little brown pool. Eagerly Tommy peered into it. At first he -saw nothing. Then, almost under him, he discovered a fat trout lazily -watching for a good meal to come along. With a great splash Tommy dived -into the pool. For just a second he closed his eyes as he struck the -water. When he opened them, the trout was nowhere to be seen. Tommy -looked very crest-fallen and foolish as he crawled up on the bank, -where Mother Mink was laughing at him. - -“How do you expect to catch fish when you splash like that?” she asked. -Tommy didn’t know, so he said nothing. “Now you come with me and -practise on little fish first,” she continued and led him to a shallow -pool in which a school of minnows were at play. - -Now Tommy was particularly fond of trout, as all Mink are, and he -was inclined to turn up his nose at minnows. But he wisely held his -tongue and prepared to show that he had learned his lesson. This time -he slipped into the water quietly and then made a swift dash at the -nearest minnow. He missed it quite as Mother Mink had expected he -would. But now his dander was up. He would catch one of those minnows -if it took him all the rest of the day! Three times he tried and -missed, but the fourth time his sharp little teeth closed on a finny -victim and he proudly swam ashore with the fish. - -“Things you catch yourself always taste best,” said Mother Mink. “Now -we’ll go over on the meadows and catch some mice.” - -Tommy scowled. “I want to catch some more fish,” said he. - -“Not the least bit of use for you to try,” retorted Mother Mink. “Don’t -you see that you have frightened those minnows so that they have left -the pool? Besides, it is time that you learned to hunt as well as fish, -and you’ll find it is just as much fun.” - -Tommy doubted it, but he obediently trotted along at the heels of -Mother Mink out onto the Green Meadows. Presently they came to a tiny -little path through the meadow grasses. Mother Mink sniffed in it and -Tommy did the same. There was the odor of meadow-mouse, and once more -Tommy’s mouth watered. He quite forgot about the fish. Mother Mink -darted ahead and presently Tommy heard a faint squeak. He hurried -forward to find Mother Mink with a fat meadow-mouse. Tommy smacked his -lips, but she took no notice. Instead, she calmly ate the meadow-mouse -herself. - -Tommy didn’t need to be told that if he wanted meadow-mouse he would -have to catch one for himself. With a little angry toss of his head he -trotted off along the little path. Presently he came to another. His -nose told him a meadow-mouse had been along that way recently. With his -nose to the ground he began to run. - -Other little paths branched off from the one he was in. Tommy paid no -attention to them until suddenly he realized that he no longer smelled -meadow-mouse. He kept on a little farther, hoping that he would find -that entrancing smell again. But he didn’t, so he stopped to consider. -Then he turned and ran back, keeping his nose to the ground. So he -came to one of those little branch paths and there he caught the smell -of meadow-mouse again. He turned into the little branch path and the -smell grew stronger. He ran faster. - -Then his quick ears caught the sound of scurrying feet ahead of him. He -darted along, and there, running for his life, was a fat meadow-mouse. -Half a dozen bounds brought Tommy up with him, whereupon the mouse -turned to fight. Now the mouse was big and a veteran, and Tommy was -only a youngster. It was his first fight. For just a second he paused -at the sight of the sharp little teeth confronting him. Then he sprang -into his first fight. - -The fierce lust of battle filled him. His eyes blazed red. There was -a short sharp struggle and then the mouse went limp and lifeless. Very -proudly Tommy dragged it out to where Mother Mink was waiting. She -would have picked it up and carried it easily, but Tommy wasn’t big -enough for that. - -After that Tommy went hunting or fishing every day. Sometimes the whole -family went, and such fun as they would have! One day they would hunt -frogs around the edge of the Smiling Pool. Again they would visit a -swamp and dig out worms and insects. But best of all they liked to hunt -the meadow-mice. - -So the long summer wore away and the family kept together. But as the -cool weather of the fall came, Tommy grew more and more restless. He -wanted to see the Great World. Sometimes he would go off and be gone -two or three days at a time. Then one day he bade the old home good-by -forever, though he didn’t know it at the time. He simply started -off, following the Laughing Brook to the Great River, in search of -adventure. And in the joy of exploring new fields he forgot all about -home. - -He was a fine big fellow by this time and very smart in the ways of -the Mink world. Life was just a grand holiday. He hunted or fished -when he was hungry, and when he was tired he curled up in the nearest -hiding-place and slept. Sometimes it was in a hollow log or stump. -Again it was in an old rock-pile or under a heap of brush. When he -had slept enough, he was off again on his travels, and it made no -difference to him whether it was night or day. He just ate when he -pleased, slept when he pleased, and wandered on where and when he -pleased. - -He was afraid of no one. Once in a while a fox would try to catch him -or a fierce hawk would swoop at him, but Tommy would dodge like a -flash, and laugh as he ducked into some hole or other hiding-place. He -had learned that quickness of movement often is more than a match for -mere size and strength. So he was not afraid of any of his neighbors, -for those he was not strong enough to fight he was clever enough to -elude. - -He could run swiftly, climb like a squirrel, and swim like a fish. -Because he was so slim, he could slip into all kinds of interesting -holes and dark corners, and explore stone and brush piles. In fact he -could go almost anywhere he pleased. His nose was as keen as that of a -dog. He was always testing the air or sniffing at the ground for the -odor of other little people who had passed that way. When he was hungry -and ran across the trail of some one he fancied, he would follow it -just as Bowser the Hound follows the trail of Reddy Fox. Sometimes he -would follow the trail of Reddy himself, just to see what he was doing. - -For the most part he kept near water. He dearly loved to explore a -brook, running along beside it, swimming the pools, investigating every -hole in the banks and the piles of drift stuff. When he was feeling -lazy and there were no fish handy, he would catch a frog or two, or a -couple of pollywogs, or a crayfish. - -Occasionally he would leave the low land and the water for the high -land and hunt rabbits and grouse. Sometimes he surprised other ground -birds. Once he visited a farmyard and, slipping into the hen-house at -night, killed three fat hens. Of course he could not eat the whole of -even one. - -Tommy asked no favors of any one. His was a happy, care-free life. -To be sure he had few friends save among his own kind, but he didn’t -mind this. He rather enjoyed the fact that all who were smaller, and -some who were larger, than he feared him. He was lithe and strong and -wonderfully quick. - -Fighting was a joy. It was this as much as anything that led him into -a fight with a big muskrat, much bigger than himself. The muskrat -was stout, and his great teeth looked dangerous. But he was slow and -clumsy in his movements compared with Tommy, and, though he was full -of courage and fought hard, the battle was not long. After that Tommy -hunted muskrats whenever the notion seized him. - -Winter came, but Tommy minded it not at all. His thick fur coat kept -him warm, and the air was like tonic in his veins. It was good to be -alive. He hunted rabbits in the snow. He caught fish at spring-holes -in the ice. He traveled long distances under the ice, running along -the edge of the water where it had fallen away from the frozen crust, -swimming when he had to, investigating muskrat holes, and now and then -surprising the tenant. - -Unlike his small cousin, Shadow the Weasel, he seldom hunted and killed -just for the fun of killing. Sometimes, when fishing was especially -good and he caught more than he could use, he would hide them away -against a day of need. In killing, the mink is simply obeying the law -of Old Mother Nature, for she has given him flesh-eating teeth, and -without meat he could not live. In this respect he is no worse than -man, for man kills to live. - -For the most of the time, Tommy was just a happy-go-lucky traveler, -who delighted in exploring new places and who saw more of the Great -World than most of his neighbors. The weather never bothered him. He -liked the sun, but he would just as soon travel in the rain. When a -fierce snow-storm raged, he traveled under the ice along the bed of -the nearest brook or river. It was just the life he had dreamed of as -a boy. He was an adventurer, a freebooter, and all the world was his. -He had no work. He had no fear, for as yet he had not encountered man. -Hooty the Owl by night and certain of the big hawks by day were all he -had to watch out for, and these he did not really fear, for he felt -himself too smart for them. - -But at last he did learn fear. It came to him when he discovered -another Mink fast in a trap. He didn’t understand those strange jaws -which bit into the flesh and held and yet were not alive. He hid -near-by and watched, and he saw a great two-legged creature come and -take the mink away. Then, cautiously, Tommy investigated. He caught -the odor of the man scent, and a little chill of fear ran down his -backbone. - -But in spite of all his care there came a fateful day. He was running -along a brook in shallow water when snap! from the bottom of the brook -itself the dreadful jaws sprang up and caught him by a leg. There had -been no smell of man to give him warning, for the running water had -carried it away. Tommy gave a little shriek as he felt the dreadful -thing, and then--he was just Tommy, sitting on the wishing-stone. - -He stared thoughtfully over at the Green Forest. Then he shuddered. You -see he remembered just how he had felt when that trap had snapped on -his leg. “I don’t want your fur coat, Billy Mink,” said he, just as if -Billy could hear him. “If it wasn’t for traps, you surely would enjoy -life. Just the same I wouldn’t trade places with you, not even if I do -have to hoe corn just when I want to go swimming!” - -And with this, Tommy started for home and the hoe, and somehow the task -didn’t look so very dreadful after all. - - - - -CHAPTER FOUR TOMMY BECOMES A VERY HUMBLE PERSON - - -“Hello, old Mr. Sobersides! Where are you bound for?” As he spoke, -Tommy thrust a foot in front of old Mr. Toad and laughed as Mr. Toad -hopped up on it and then off, quite as if he were accustomed to having -big feet thrust in his way. Not that Tommy had especially big feet. -They simply were big in comparison with Mr. Toad. “Never saw you in a -hurry before,” continued Tommy. “What’s it all about? You are going -as if you were bound for somewhere in particular, and as if you had -something special on your mind. What is it, anyway?” - -Now of course old Mr. Toad didn’t make any reply. At least he didn’t -make any that Tommy heard. If he had, Tommy wouldn’t have understood -it. The fact is, it did look, for all the world, as if it was just -as Tommy had said. If ever any one had an important engagement to -keep and meant to keep it, Mr. Toad did, if looks counted anything. -Hoppity-hop-hop-hop, hoppity-hop-hop-hop, he went straight down toward -the Green Meadows, and he didn’t pay any attention to anybody or -anything. - -Tommy was interested. He had known old Mr. Toad ever since he could -remember, and he couldn’t recall ever having seen him go anywhere -in particular. Whenever Tommy had noticed him, he had seemed to be -hopping about in the most aimless sort of way, and never took more than -a half dozen hops without sitting down to think it over. So it was very -surprising to see him traveling along in this determined fashion, and, -having nothing better to do, Tommy decided to follow him and find out -what he could. - -So down the Lone Little Path traveled old Mr. Toad, -hoppity-hop-hop-hop, hoppity-hop-hop-hop, and behind him strolled -Tommy. And while old Mr. Toad seemed to be going very fast, and was, -for him, Tommy was having hard work to go slow enough to stay behind. -And this shows what a difference mere size may make. - -When they reached the wishing-stone, Mr. Toad was tired from having -hurried so, and Tommy was equally tired from the effort of going slow, -so both were glad to sit down for a rest. Old Mr. Toad crept in under -the edge of the wishing-stone on the shady side, and Tommy, still -thinking of old Mr. Toad, sat down on the wishing-stone itself. - -“I wonder,” he chuckled, “if he has come down here to wish. Perhaps -he’ll wish himself into something beautiful, as they do in fairy -stories. I should think he’d want to. Goodness knows, he’s homely -enough! It’s bad enough to be freckled, but to be covered with -warts--ugh! There isn’t a single beautiful thing about him.” - -As he said this, Tommy leaned over that he might better look at old Mr. -Toad, and Mr. Toad looked up at Tommy quite as if he understood what -Tommy had said, so that Tommy looked straight into Mr. Toad’s eyes. - -It was the first time in all his life that Tommy had ever looked into a -toad’s eyes. Whoever would think of looking at the eyes of a hop-toad? -Certainly not Tommy. Eyes were eyes, and a toad had two of them. Wasn’t -that enough to know? Why under the sun should a fellow bother about -the color of them, or anything like that? What difference did it make? -Well, it made just the difference between knowing and not knowing; -between knowledge and ignorance; between justice and injustice. - -Tommy suddenly realized this as he looked straight into the eyes of old -Mr. Toad, and it gave him a funny feeling inside. It was something like -that feeling you have when you speak to some one you think is an old -friend and find him to be a total stranger. “I--I beg your pardon, Mr. -Toad,” said he. “I take it all back. You have something beautiful--the -most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. If I had eyes as beautiful as -yours, I wouldn’t care how many freckles I had. Why haven’t I ever seen -them before?” - -Old Mr. Toad slowly blinked, as much as to say, “That’s up to you, -young man. They’re the same two eyes I’ve always had. If you haven’t -learned to use your own eyes, that is no fault and no business of mine. -If I made as little use of my eyes as you do of yours, I shouldn’t last -long.” - -It never before had occurred to Tommy that there was anything -particularly interesting about old Mr. Toad. But those beautiful -eyes--for a toad’s eyes are truly beautiful, so beautiful that they are -the cause of the old legend that a toad carries jewels in his head--set -him to thinking. The more he thought, the more he realized how very -little he knew about this homely, common neighbor of the garden. - -“All I know about him is that he eats bugs,” muttered Tommy, “and on -that account is a pretty good fellow to have around. My, but he _has_ -got beautiful eyes! I wonder if there is anything else interesting -about him. I wonder if I should wish to be a toad just to learn about -him, if I could be one. I guess some of the wishes I’ve made on this -old stone have been sort of foolish, because every time I’ve been -discontented or envious, and I guess the wishes have come true just to -teach me a lesson. I’m not discontented now. I should say not! A fellow -would be pretty poor stuff to be discontented on a beautiful spring day -like this! And I don’t envy old Mr. Toad, not a bit, unless it’s for -his beautiful eyes, and I guess that doesn’t count. I don’t see how he -can have a very interesting life, but I almost want to wish just to see -if it _will_ come true.” - -At that moment, old Mr. Toad came out from under the wishing-stone and -started on down the Lone Little Path. Just as before, he seemed to be -in a hurry to get somewhere, and to have something on his mind. Tommy -had to smile as he watched his awkward hops. - -“I may as well let him get a good start, because he goes so very -slow,” thought Tommy, and dreamily watched until old Mr. Toad was just -going out of sight around a turn in the Lone Little Path. Then, instead -of getting up and following, Tommy suddenly made up his mind to test -the old wishing-stone. “I wish,” said he right out aloud, “I wish I -could be a toad!” - -No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he was hurrying down -the Lone Little Path after old Mr. Toad, hop-hop-hoppity-hop, a toad -himself. He knew now just where old Mr. Toad was bound for, and he -was in a hurry, a tremendous hurry, to get there himself. It was the -Smiling Pool. He didn’t know why he wanted to get there, but he did. It -seemed to him that he couldn’t get there quick enough. It was spring, -and the joy of spring made him tingle all over from the tip of his nose -to the tips of his toes; but with it was a great longing--a longing for -the Smiling Pool. It was a longing very much like homesickness. He felt -that he couldn’t be really happy until he got there, and that nothing -could or should keep him away from there. - -He couldn’t even stop to eat. He knew, too, that that was just the way -old Mr. Toad was feeling, and it didn’t surprise him as he hurried -along, hop-hop-hoppity-hop, to find other toads all headed in the same -direction, and all in just as much of a hurry as he was. - -Suddenly he heard a sound that made him hurry faster than ever, or at -least try to. It was a clear sweet peep, peep, peep. “It’s my cousin -Stickytoes the Tree-toad, and he’s got there before me,” thought -Tommy, and tried to hop faster. That single peep grew into a great -chorus of peeps, and now he heard other voices, the voices of his other -cousins, the frogs. He began to feel that he must sing too, but he -couldn’t stop for that. - -At last, Tommy reached the Smiling Pool, and with a last long hop -landed in the shallow water on the edge. How good the cool water felt -to his dry skin! At the very first touch, the great longing left Tommy -and a great content took its place. He had reached _home_, and he knew -it. - -It was the same way with old Mr. Toad and with the other toads that -kept coming and coming from all directions. And the very first thing -that many of them did as soon as they had rested a bit was--what do -you think? Why, each one began to sing. Yes, sir, a great many of -those toads began to sing! If Tommy had been his true self instead of -a toad, he probably would have been more surprised than he was when -he discovered that old Mr. Toad had beautiful eyes. But he wasn’t -surprised now, for the very good reason that he was singing himself. - -Tommy could no more help singing than he could help breathing. Just -as he had to fill his lungs with air, so he had to give expression to -the joy that filled him. He just _had_ to. And, as the most natural -expression of joy is in song, Tommy added his voice to the great chorus -of the Smiling Pool. - -In his throat was a pouch for which he had not been aware that he had -any particular use; now he found out what it was for. He filled it -with air, and it swelled and swelled like a little balloon, until it -was actually larger than his head; and, though he wasn’t aware of it, -he filled it in a very interesting way. He drew the air in through his -nostrils and then forced it through two little slits in the floor of -his mouth. All the time he kept his mouth tightly closed. - -That little balloon was for the purpose of increasing the sound of his -voice. Later he discovered that he could sing when wholly under water, -with mouth and nostrils tightly closed, by passing the air back and -forth between his lungs and that throat-pouch. - -It was the same way with all the other toads, and on all sides Tommy -saw them sitting upright in the shallow water with their funny -swelled-out throats, and singing with all their might. In all the -Great World, there was no more joyous place than the Smiling Pool in -those beautiful spring days. It seemed as if everybody sang--Redwing -the Blackbird in the bulrushes, Little Friend the Song-sparrow in the -bushes along the edge of the Laughing Brook, Bubbling Bob the Bobolink -in the top of the nearest tree on the Green Meadows, and the toads and -frogs in every part of the Smiling Pool. But of all those songs there -was none sweeter or more expressive of perfect happiness than that of -Tommy and his neighbor, homely, almost ugly-looking, old Mr. Toad. - -[Illustration: TOMMY SAW THEM SITTING UPRIGHT IN THE SHALLOW WATER] - -But it was not quite true that everybody sang. Tommy found it out in -a way that put an end to his own singing for a little while. Jolly, -round, bright Mr. Sun was shining his brightest, and the singers of the -Smiling Pool were doing their very best, when suddenly old Mr. Toad -cut his song short right in the middle. So did other toads and frogs -on both sides of him. Tommy stopped too, just because the others did. -There was something fearsome in that sudden ending of glad song. - -Tommy sat perfectly still with a queer feeling that something dreadful -was happening. He didn’t move, but he rolled his eyes this way and that -way until he saw something moving on the edge of the shore. It was Mr. -Blacksnake, just starting to crawl away, and from his mouth two long -legs were feebly kicking. One of the sweet singers would sing no more. -After that, no matter how glad and happy he felt as he sang, he kept a -sharp watch all the time for Mr. Snake, for he had learned that there -was danger even in the midst of joy. - -But when the dusk of evening came, he knew that Mr. Snake was no longer -to be feared, and he sang in perfect peace and contentment until there -came an evening when again that mighty chorus stopped abruptly. A -shadow passed over him. Looking up, he saw a great bird with soundless -wings, and hanging from its claws one of the sweet singers whose voice -was stilled forever. Hooty the Owl had caught his supper. - -So Tommy learned that not all folk sing their joy in spring, and that -those who do not, such as Mr. Blacksnake and Hooty the Owl, were to be -watched out for. - -“Too bad, too bad!” whispered old Mr. Toad as they waited for some one -to start the chorus again. “That fellow was careless. He didn’t watch -out. He forgot. Bad business, forgetting; bad business. Doesn’t do at -all. Now I’ve lived a great many years, and I expect to live a great -many more. I never forget to watch out. We toads haven’t very many -enemies, and if we watch out for the few we have, there isn’t much to -worry about. It’s safe to start that chorus again, so here goes.” - -He swelled his throat out and began to sing. In five minutes it was as -if nothing had happened at the Smiling Pool. - -So the glad spring passed, and Tommy saw many things of interest. He -saw thousands of tiny eggs hatch into funny little tadpoles, and for a -while it was hard to tell at first glance the toad tadpoles from their -cousins, the frog tadpoles. But the little toad babies grew fast, and -it was almost no time at all before they were not tadpoles at all, but -tiny little toads with tails. Day by day the tails grew shorter, until -there were no tails at all, each baby a perfect little toad no bigger -than a good-sized cricket, but big enough to consider that he had -outgrown his nursery, and to be eager to leave the Smiling Pool and go -out into the Great World. - -“Foolish! Foolish! Much better off here. Got a lot to learn before -they can take care of themselves in the Great World,” grumbled old Mr. -Toad. Then he chuckled. “Know just how they feel, though,” said he. -“Felt the same way myself at their age. Suppose you did, too.” - -Of course, Tommy, never having been little like that, for he had wished -himself into a full-grown toad, had no such memory. But old Mr. Toad -didn’t seem to expect a reply, for he went right on: “Took care of -myself, and I guess those little rascals can do the same thing. By -the way, this water is getting uncomfortably warm. Besides, I’ve got -business to attend to. Can’t sing all the time. Holidays are over. -Think I’ll start along back to-night. Are you going my way?” - -Now Tommy hadn’t thought anything about the matter. He had noticed -that a great many toads were leaving the Smiling Pool, and that he -himself didn’t care so much about singing. Then, too, he longed for a -good meal, for he had eaten little since coming to the Smiling Pool. So -when old Mr. Toad asked if he was going his way, Tommy suddenly decided -that he was. - -“Good!” replied old Mr. Toad. “We’ll start as soon as it begins to grow -dark. It’s safer then. Besides, I never could travel in bright, hot -weather. It’s bad for the health.” - -So when the Black Shadows began to creep across the Green Meadows, -old Mr. Toad and Tommy turned their backs on the Smiling Pool and -started up the Lone Little Path. They were not in a hurry now, as they -had been when they came down the Lone Little Path, and they hopped -along slowly, stopping to hunt bugs and slugs and worms, for they were -very, very hungry. Old Mr. Toad fixed his eyes on a fly which had just -lighted on the ground two inches in front of him. He sat perfectly -still, but there was a lightning-like flash of something pink from his -mouth, and the fly was gone. Mr. Toad smacked his lips. - -“I don’t see how some people get along with their tongues fastened ’way -back in their throats,” he remarked. “The proper place for a tongue to -be fastened is the way ours are--by the front end. Then you can shoot -it out its whole length and get your meal every time. See that spider -over there? If I tried to get any nearer, he’d be gone at the first -move. He’s a goner anyway. Watch!” There was that little pink flash -again, and, sure enough, the spider had disappeared. Once more old Mr. -Toad smacked his lips. “Didn’t I tell you he was a goner?” said he, -chuckling over his own joke. - -Tommy quite agreed with old Mr. Toad. That arrangement of his tongue -certainly was most convenient. Any insect he liked to eat that came -within two inches of his nose was as good as caught. All he had to do -was to shoot out his tongue, which was sticky, and when he drew it -back, it brought the bug with it and carried it well down his throat to -a comfortable point to swallow. Yes, it certainly was convenient. - -It took so much time to fill their stomachs that they did not travel -far that night. The next day they spent under an old barrel, where -they buried themselves in the soft earth by digging holes with their -stout hind feet and backing in at the same time until just their noses -and eyes showed at the doorways, ready to snap up any foolish bugs -or worms who might seek shelter in their hiding-place. It was such a -comfortable place that they stayed several days, going out nights to -hunt, and returning at daylight. - -It was while they were there that old Mr. Toad complained that his skin -was getting too tight and uncomfortable, and announced that he was -going to change it. And he did. It was a pretty tiresome process, and -required a lot of wriggling and kicking, but little by little the old -skin split in places and Mr. Toad worked it off, getting his hind legs -free first, and later his hands, using the latter to pull the last of -it from the top of his head over his eyes. And, as fast as he worked it -loose, he swallowed it! - -“Now I feel better,” said he, as with a final gulp he swallowed the -last of his old suit. Tommy wasn’t sure that he _looked_ any better, -for the new skin looked very much like the old one; but he didn’t say -so. - -Tommy found that he needed four good meals a day, and filling his -stomach took most of his time when he wasn’t resting. Cutworms he found -especially to his liking, and it was astonishing how many he could eat -in a night. Caterpillars of many kinds helped out, and it was great fun -to sit beside an ant-hill and snap up the busy workers as they came -out. - -But, besides their daily foraging, there was plenty of excitement, as -when a rustling warned them that a snake was near, or a shadow on the -grass told them that a hawk was sailing overhead. At those times they -simply sat perfectly still, and looked so much like little lumps of -earth that they were not seen at all, or, if they were, they were not -recognized. Instead of drinking, they soaked water in through the skin. -To have a dry skin was to be terribly uncomfortable, and that is why -they always sought shelter during the sunny hours. - -At last came a rainy day. “Toad weather! Perfect toad weather!” -exclaimed old Mr. Toad. “This is the day to travel.” - -[Illustration: “TOAD WEATHER! PERFECT TOAD WEATHER!” EXCLAIMED OLD MR. -TOAD] - -So once more they took up their journey in a leisurely way. A little -past noon, the clouds cleared away and the sun came out bright. “Time -to get under cover,” grunted old Mr. Toad, and led the way to a great -gray rock beside the Lone Little Path and crawled under the edge of it. -Tommy was just going to follow--when something happened! He wasn’t a -toad at all--just a freckle-faced boy sitting on the wishing-stone. - -He pinched himself to make sure. Then he looked under the edge of -the wishing-stone for old Mr. Toad. He wasn’t there. Gradually he -remembered that he had seen old Mr. Toad disappearing around a turn -in the Lone Little Path, going hoppity-hop-hop-hop, as if he had -something on his mind. - -“And I thought that there was nothing interesting about a toad!” -muttered Tommy. “I wonder if it’s all true. I believe I’ll run down -to the Smiling Pool and just see if that is where Mr. Toad really was -going. He must have about reached there by this time.” - -He jumped to his feet and ran down the Lone Little Path. As he drew -near the Smiling Pool, he stopped to listen to the joyous chorus rising -from it. He had always thought of the singers as just “peepers,” or -frogs. Now, for the first time, he noticed that there were different -voices. Just ahead of him he saw something moving. It was old Mr. Toad. -Softly, very softly, Tommy followed and saw him jump into the shallow -water. Carefully he tiptoed nearer and watched. Presently old Mr. -Toad’s throat began to swell and swell, until it was bigger than his -head. Then he began to sing. It was only a couple of notes, tremulous -and wonderfully sweet, and so expressive of joy and gladness that Tommy -felt his own heart swell with happiness. - -“It is true!” he cried. “And all the rest must be true. And I said -there was nothing beautiful about a toad, when all the time he has the -most wonderful eyes and the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard. It must be -true about that queer tongue, and the way he sheds his skin. I’m going -to watch and see for myself. Why, I’ve known old Mr. Toad all my life, -and thought him just a common fellow, when all the time he is just -wonderful! I’m glad I’ve been a toad. Of course there is nothing like -being a boy, but I’d rather be a toad than some other things I’ve been -on the old wishing-stone. I’m going to get all the toads I can to live -in my garden this summer.” - -And that is just what Tommy did, with the result that he had one of the -best gardens anywhere around. And nobody knew why but Tommy--and his -friends, the toads. - -Tommy had no intention of doing any more wishing on that old stone, but -he did. He just couldn’t keep away from it. If you want to know what -his wishes were and what more he learned you will find it in the next -volume, Tommy’s Wishes Come True. - - * * * * * - -TOMMY’S WISHES COME TRUE - - * * * * * - -TOMMY’S WISHES COME TRUE - - - - -CHAPTER ONE WHY PETER RABBIT HAS ONE LESS ENEMY - - -Peter Rabbit was happy. There was no question about that. You had only -to watch him a few minutes to know it. He couldn’t hide that happiness -any more than the sun at midday can hide when there are no clouds in -the sky. Happiness seemed to fairly shoot from his long heels as they -twinkled merrily this way and that way through the dear Old Briar-patch. - -Peter was doing crazy things. He was so happy that he was foolish. -Happiness, you know, is the only excuse for foolishness. And Peter -was foolish, very, very foolish. He would suddenly jump into the air, -kick his long heels, dart off to one side, change his mind and dart -the other way, run in a circle, and then abruptly plump himself down -under a bush and sit as still as if he couldn’t move. Then, without any -warning at all, he would cut up some other funny antic. - -He was so foolish and so funny that finally Tommy, who, unseen by -Peter, was watching him, laughed aloud. Perhaps Peter doesn’t like -being laughed at. Most people don’t. It may be Peter was a little bit -uncertain as to why he was being laughed at. Anyway, with a sudden -thump of his stout hind-feet, he scampered out of sight along one of -his private little paths which led into the very thickest tangle in the -dear Old Briar-patch. - -“I’ll have to come over here with my gun and get that rabbit for my -dinner,” said Tommy, as he trudged homeward. “Probably though, if I -have a gun, I won’t see him at all. It’s funny how a fellow is forever -seeing things when he hasn’t got a gun, and when he goes hunting he -never sees anything!” - -Tommy had come to the great gray stone which was his favorite -resting-place. He sat down from sheer force of habit. Somehow, he never -could get past that stone without sitting on it for a few minutes. It -seemed to just beg to be sat on. He was still thinking of Peter Rabbit. - -“I wonder what made him feel so frisky,” thought Tommy. Then he -laughed aloud once more as he remembered how comical Peter had looked. -It must be fun to feel as happy as all that. Without once thinking -of where he was, Tommy exclaimed aloud: “I declare, I wish I were a -rabbit!” - -He was. His wish had come true. Just as quick as that, he found himself -a rabbit. You see, he had been sitting on the wishing-stone. If he had -remembered, perhaps, he wouldn’t have wished. But he had forgotten, and -now here he was, looking as if he might very well be own brother to -Peter Rabbit. - -Not only did he look like Peter, but he felt like him. Anyway, he felt -a crazy impulse to run and jump and do foolish things, and he did them. -He just couldn’t help doing them. It was his way of showing how good -he felt, just as shouting is a boy’s way, and singing is the way of a -bird. - -But in the very midst of one of his wildest whirls, he heard a sound -that brought him up short, as still as a stone. It was the sound of a -heavy thump, and it came from the direction of the Old Briar-patch. -Tommy didn’t need to be told that it was a signal, a signal from Peter -Rabbit to all other rabbits within hearing distance. He didn’t know -just the meaning of that signal, and, because he didn’t, he just sat -still. - -Now it happens that that was exactly what that signal meant--to sit -tight and not move. Peter had seen something that to him looked very -suspicious. So on general principles he had signaled, and then had -himself sat perfectly still until he should discover if there was any -real danger. - -Tommy didn’t know this, but being a rabbit now, he felt as a rabbit -feels, and, from the second he heard that thump, he was as frightened -as he had been happy a minute before. And being frightened, yet not -knowing of what he was afraid, he sat absolutely still, listening with -all his might, and looking this way and that, as best he could, without -moving his head. And all the time, he worked his nose up and down, up -and down, as all rabbits do, and tested the air for strange smells. - -Presently Tommy heard behind him a sound that filled him with terrible -fear. It was a loud sniff, sniff. Rolling his eyes back so that he -could look behind without turning his head, he saw a dog sniffing and -snuffing in the grass. Now that dog wasn’t very big as dogs go, but he -was so much bigger than even the largest rabbit that to Tommy he looked -like a giant. The terrible fear that filled him clutched at Tommy’s -heart until it seemed as if it would stop beating. - -What should he do, sit still or run? Somehow he was afraid to do -either. Just then the matter was settled for him. “_Thump, thump, -thump!_” the signal came along the ground from the Old Briar-patch, -and almost any one would have known just by the short sharp sound that -those thumps meant “Run!” At just the same instant, the dog caught -the scent of Tommy full and strong. With a roar of his great voice he -sprang forward, his nose in Tommy’s tracks. - -Tommy waited no longer. With a great bound he leaped forward in the -direction of the Old Briar-patch. How he did run! A dozen bounds -brought him to the Old Briar-patch, and there just before him was a -tiny path under the brambles. He didn’t stop to question how it came -there or who had made it. He dodged in and scurried along it to the -very middle of the Old Briar-patch. Then he stopped to listen and look. - -The dog had just reached the edge of the briars. He knew where Tommy -had gone. Of course he knew. His nose told him that. He thrust his head -in at the entrance to the little path and tried to crawl in. But the -sly old brambles tore his long tender ears, and he yelped with pain -now instead of with the excitement of the chase. Then he backed out, -whining and yelping. He ran around the edge of the Old Briar-patch -looking for some place where he could get in more comfortably. But -there was no place, and after a while he gave up and went off. - -Tommy sat right where he was until he was quite sure that the dog -had gone. When he _was_ quite sure, he started to explore the dear -Old Briar-patch, for he was very curious to see what it was like in -there. He found little paths leading in all directions. Some of them -led right through the very thickest tangles of ugly looking brambles, -and Tommy found that he could run along these with never a fear of -a single scratch. And as he hopped along, he knew that here he was -safe, absolutely safe from most of his enemies, for no one bigger than -he could possibly get through those briars without being terribly -scratched. - -So it was with a very comfortable feeling that Tommy peered out through -the brambles and watched that annoying dog trot off in disgust. He felt -that never, so long as he was within running distance of the dear Old -Briar-patch, would he be afraid of a dog. - -Right into the midst of his pleasant thoughts broke a rude “_Thump, -thump, thump!_” It wasn’t a danger-signal this time. That is, it didn’t -mean “Run for your life.” Tommy was very sure of that. And yet it might -be a kind of danger-signal, too. It all depended on what Tommy decided -to do. - -There it was again--“_Thump, thump, thump!_” It had an ugly, -threatening sound. Tommy knew just as well as if there had been spoken -words instead of mere thumps on the ground that he was being warned to -get out of the Old Briar-patch--that he had no right there, because it -belonged to some one else. - -But Tommy had no intention of leaving such a fine place, such a -beautifully safe place, unless he had to, and no mere thumps on the -ground could make him believe that. He could thump himself. He did. -Those long hind-feet of his were just made for thumping. When he hit -the ground with them, he did it with a will, and the thumps he made -sounded just as ugly and threatening as the other fellow’s, and he knew -that the other fellow knew exactly what they meant--“I’ll do as I -please! Put me out if you can!” - -It was very clear that this was just what the other proposed to do -if his thumps meant anything at all. Presently Tommy saw a trim, -neat-looking rabbit in a little open space, and it was something of a -relief to find that he was about Tommy’s own size. - -“If I can’t whip him, he certainly can’t whip me,” thought Tommy, and -straightway thumped, “I’m coming,” in reply to the stranger’s angry -demand that he come out and fight. - -Now the stranger was none other than Peter Rabbit, and he was very -indignant. He considered that he owned the dear Old Briar-patch. He was -perfectly willing that any other rabbit should find safety there in -time of danger, but when the danger was past, they must get out. Tommy -hadn’t; therefore he must be driven out. - -Now if Tommy had been himself, instead of a rabbit, never, never would -he have dreamed of fighting as he was preparing to fight now--by biting -and kicking, particularly kicking. But for a rabbit, kicking was quite -the correct and proper thing. In fact, it was the only way to fight. - -So instead of coming together head-on, Tommy and Peter approached each -other in queer little half-sidewise rushes, each watching for a chance -to use his stout hind-feet. Suddenly Peter rushed, jumped, and--well, -when Tommy picked himself up, he felt very much as a boy feels when -he has been tackled and thrown in a football game. Certainly Peter’s -hind-legs were in good working order. - -Just a minute later Tommy’s chance came and Peter was sent sprawling. -Like a flash, Tommy was after him, biting and pulling out little -bunches of soft fur. So they fought until at last they were so out of -wind and so tired that there was no fight left in either. Then they lay -and panted for breath, and quite suddenly they forgot their quarrel. -Each knew that he couldn’t whip the other; and, that being so, what was -the use of fighting? - -“I suppose this Old Briar-patch is big enough for both of us,” said -Peter, after a little. - -“I’ll live on one side, and you live on the other,” replied Tommy. And -so it was agreed. - -In three things Tommy found that, as a rabbit, he was not unlike Tommy -the boy. These three were appetite, curiosity, and a decided preference -for pleasure rather than work. Tommy felt as if he lived to eat instead -of eating to live. He wanted to eat most of the time. It seemed as if -he never could get his stomach really full. - -There was one satisfaction, and that was that he never had to look very -far for something to eat. There were clover and grass just outside -the Briar-patch,--all he wanted for the taking. There were certain -tender-leaved plants for a change, not to mention tender bark from -young trees and bushes. With Peter he made occasional visits to a not -too distant garden, where they fairly reveled in goodies. - -[Illustration: WITH PETER HE MADE VISITS TO A GARDEN] - -These visits were in the nature of adventure. It seemed to Tommy that -not even Danny Meadow-Mouse had so many enemies as he and Peter had. -They used to talk it over sometimes. - -“It isn’t fair,” said Peter in a grieved tone. “We don’t hurt anybody. -We don’t do the least bit of harm to any one, and yet it isn’t safe for -us to play two minutes outside the dear Old Briar-patch without keeping -watch. No, sir, it isn’t fair! There’s Redtail the Hawk watching this -very minute from way up there in the sky. He looks as if he were just -sailing round and round for the fun of it; but he isn’t. He’s just -watching for you or me to get one too many jumps away from these old -briars. Then down he’ll come like a shot. Now what harm have we ever -done Redtail or any of his family? Tell me that.” - -Of course Tommy couldn’t tell him that, and so Peter went on: “When I -was a baby, I came very near to finding out just how far it is from -Mr. Blacksnake’s mouth to his stomach by the inside passage, and all -that saved me was the interference of a boy, who set me free. Now that -I’m grown, I’m not afraid of Mr. Blacksnake,--though I keep out of his -way,--but I have to keep on the watch all the time for that boy!” - -“The same one?” asked Tommy. - -“The very same!” replied Peter. “He’s forever setting his dog after me -and trying to get a shot at me with his terrible gun. Yet I’ve never -done _him_ any harm,--nor the dog either.” - -“It’s very curious,” said Tommy, not knowing what else to say. - -“It seems to me there ought to be some time when it is reasonably safe -for an honest rabbit to go abroad,” continued Peter, who, now that he -was started, seemed bound to make the worst of his troubles. “At night, -I cannot even dance in the moonlight without all the time looking one -way for Reddy Fox and another for Hooty the Owl.” - -“It’s a good thing that the Briar-patch is always safe,” said Tommy, -because he could think of nothing else to say. - -“But it isn’t!” snapped Peter. “I wish to goodness it was! Now -there’s--listen!” Peter sat very still with his ears pricked forward. -Something very like a look of fear grew and grew in his eyes. Tommy sat -quite as still and listened with all his might. Presently he heard -a faint rustling. It sounded as if it was in one of the little paths -through the Briar-patch. Yes, it surely was! And it was drawing nearer! -Tommy gathered himself together for instant flight, and a strange fear -gripped his heart. - -“It’s Billy Mink!” gasped Peter. “If he follows you, don’t run into a -hole in the ground, or into a hollow log, whatever you do! Keep going! -He’ll get tired after a while. There he is--run!” - -Peter bounded off one way and Tommy another. After a few jumps, Tommy -squatted to make sure whether or not he was being followed. He saw a -slim, dark form slipping through the brambles, and he knew that Billy -Mink was following Peter. Tommy couldn’t help a tiny sigh of relief. -He was sorry for Peter; but Peter knew every path and twist and turn, -while he didn’t. It was a great deal better that Peter should be the -one to try to fool Billy Mink. - -So Tommy sat perfectly still and watched. He saw Peter twist and turn, -run in a circle, criss-cross, run back on his own trail, and make a -break by leaping far to one side. He saw Billy Mink follow every twist -and turn, his nose in Peter’s tracks. When he reached the place where -Peter had broken the trail, he ran in ever widening circles until he -picked it up again, and once more Peter was on the run. - -Tommy felt little cold shivers chase up and down his back as he watched -how surely and persistently Billy Mink followed. And then--he hardly -knew how it happened--Peter had jumped right over him, and there was -Billy Mink coming! There was nothing to do but run, and Tommy ran. He -doubled and twisted and played all the tricks he had seen Peter play, -and then at last, when he was beginning to get quite tired, he played -the same trick on Peter that had seemed so dreadful when Peter played -it on him; he led Billy Mink straight to where Peter was sitting, and -once more Peter was the hunted. - -But Billy Mink was getting tired. After a little, he gave up and went -in quest of something more easily caught. - -Peter came back to where Tommy was sitting. - -“Billy Mink’s a tough customer to get rid of alone, but, with some one -to change off with, it is no trick at all!” said he. “It wouldn’t work -so well with his cousin, Shadow the Weasel. He’s the one I _am_ afraid -of. I think we should be safer if we had some new paths; what do you -think?” - -Tommy confessed that he thought so too. It would have been very much -easier to have dodged Billy Mink if there had been a few more cross -paths. - -“We better make them before we need them more than we did this time,” -said Peter; and, as this was just plain, sound, rabbit common sense, -Tommy was forced to agree. - -And so it was that he learned that a rabbit must work if he would -live long and be happy. He didn’t think of it in just this way as he -patiently cut paths through the brambles and tangles of bush and vine. -It was fear, just plain fear, that was driving him. And even this -drove him to work only by spells. Between times, when he wasn’t eating, -he sat squatting under a bush just lazily dreaming, but always ready to -run for his life. - -In the moonlight he and Peter loved to gambol and play in some open -space where there was room to jump and dance; but, even in the midst of -these joyous times, they must need sit up every minute or so to stop, -look, and listen for danger. It was at night, too, that they wandered -farthest from the Old Briar-patch. - -Once they met Bobby Coon, and Peter warned Tommy never to allow Bobby -to get him cornered. And once they met Jimmy Skunk, who paid no -attention to them at all, but went right on about his business. It was -hard to believe that he was another to be warned against; but so Peter -said, and Peter ought to know if anybody did. - -So Tommy learned to be ever on the watch. He learned to take note of -his neighbors. He could tell by the sound of his voice when Sammy Jay -was watching Reddy Fox, and when he saw a hunter. When Blacky the Crow -was on guard, he knew that he was reasonably safe from surprise. At -least once a day, but more often several times a day, he had a narrow -escape. But he grew used to it, and, as soon as a fright was over, he -forgot it. It was the only way to do. - -As he learned more and more how to watch, and to care for himself, -he grew bolder. Curiosity led him farther and farther from the -Briar-patch. And then, one day he discovered that Reddy Fox was between -him and it. There was nothing to do but to run and twist and double and -dodge. Every trick he had learned he tried in vain. He was in the open, -and Reddy was too wise to be fooled. - -[Illustration: REDDY FOX WAS BETWEEN HIM AND HIS CASTLE] - -He was right at Tommy’s heels now, and with every jump Tommy expected -to feel those cruel white teeth. Just ahead was a great rock. If he -could reach that, perhaps there might be a crack in it big enough for a -frightened little rabbit to squeeze into, or a hole under it where he -might find safety. - -He was almost up to it. Would he be able to make it? One jump! He could -hear Reddy panting. Two jumps! He could feel Reddy’s breath. Three -jumps! He was on the rock! and--slowly Tommy rubbed his eyes. Reddy Fox -was nowhere to be seen. Of course not! No fox would be foolish enough -to come near a _boy_ sitting in plain sight. Tommy looked over to the -Old Briar-patch. That at least was real. Slowly he walked over to it. -Peering under the bushes, he saw Peter Rabbit squatting perfectly -still, yet ready to run. - -“You don’t need to, Peter,” said he. “You don’t need to. You can cut -one boy off that long list of enemies you are always watching for. You -see, I know just how you feel, Peter!” - -He walked around to the other side of the Briar-patch, and, stooping -down, thumped the ground once with his hand. There was an answering -thump from the spot where he had seen Peter Rabbit. Tommy smiled. - -“We’re friends, Peter,” said he, “and it’s all on account of the -wishing-stone. I’ll never hunt you again. My! I wouldn’t be a rabbit -for anything in the world. Being a boy is good enough for me!” - - - - -CHAPTER TWO WHY TOMMY BECAME A FRIEND OF RED SQUIRRELS - - -“I don’t see what Sis wants to string this stuff all over the house -for, just because it happens to be Christmas!” grumbled Tommy, as he -sat on a big stone and idly kicked at a pile of beautiful ground-pine -and fragrant balsam boughs. “It’s the best day for skating we’ve had -yet, and here I am missing a whole morning of it, and so tired that -most likely I won’t feel like going this afternoon!” - -Now Tommy knew perfectly well that if his mother said that he could go, -nothing could keep him away from the pond that afternoon. He was a -little tired, perhaps, but not nearly so tired as he tried to think he -was. Gathering Christmas greens was work of course. But when you come -right down to it, there is work about almost everything, even skating. -The chief difference between work and pleasure is the difference -between “must” and “want to.” When you _must_ do a thing it becomes -work; when you _want_ to do a thing it becomes pleasure. - -Right down deep inside, where his honest self lives, Tommy was glad -that there was going to be a green wreath in each of the front windows, -and that over the doors and pictures there would be sweet-smelling -balsam. Without them, why, Christmas wouldn’t be Christmasy at all! And -really it had been fun gathering those greens. He wouldn’t admit it, -but it had. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world. It was only that -it had to be done just when he wanted to do something else. And so he -tried to feel grieved and persecuted, and to forget that Christmas was -only two days off. - -He sat on the big gray stone and looked across the Green Meadows, -no longer green but covered with the whitest and lightest of -snow-blankets, across the Old Pasture, not one whit less beautiful, to -the Green Forest, and he sighed. It was a deep, heavy sigh. It was the -sigh of a self-made martyr. - -As if in reply, he heard the sharp voice of Chatterer the Red Squirrel. -It rang out clear and loud on the frosty air, and it was very plain -that, whatever troubles others might have, Chatterer was very well -satisfied with the world in general and himself in particular. Just -now he was racing along the fence, stopping at every post to sit up -and tell all the world that he was there and didn’t care who knew it. -Presently his sharp eyes spied Tommy. - -Chatterer stopped short in the middle of a rail and looked at Tommy -very hard. Then he barked at him, jerking his tail with every syllable. -Tommy didn’t move. - -Chatterer jumped down from the fence and came nearer. Every foot or -so he paused and barked, and his bark was such a funny mixture of -nervousness and excitement and curiosity and sauciness, not to say -impudence, that finally Tommy laughed right out. He just couldn’t help -it. - -Back to the fence rushed Chatterer, and scampered up to the top of -a post. Once sure of the safety of this retreat, he faced Tommy and -began to scold as fast as his tongue could go. Of course Tommy couldn’t -understand what Chatterer was saying, but he could guess. He was -telling Tommy just what he thought of a boy who would sit moping on -such a beautiful day, and only two days before Christmas at that! - -My, how his tongue did fly! When he had had his say to the full, he -gave a final whisk of his tail and scampered off in the direction of -the Old Orchard. And, as he went, it seemed to Tommy as if he looked -back with the sauciest kind of a twinkle in his eyes, as much as to -say, “You deserve all I’ve said, but I don’t really mean it!” - -Tommy watched him, a lively little red spot against the white -background, and, as he watched, the smile gradually faded away. It -never would do at all to go home in good spirits after raising such a -fuss as he had when he started out. So, to make himself feel as badly -as he felt that he ought to feel, Tommy sighed dolefully. - -“Oh, but you’re lucky!” said he, as Chatterer’s sharp voice floated -over to him from the Old Orchard. “You don’t have to do a blessed thing -unless you want to! All you have to do is to eat and sleep and have a -good time. It must be fun. I wish I were a squirrel!” - -Right then something happened. It happened all in a flash, just as it -had happened to Tommy before. One minute he was a boy, a discontented -boy, sitting on a big gray stone on the edge of the Green Meadows, and -the next minute he wasn’t a boy at all! You see, when he made that -wish, he had quite forgotten that he was sitting on the wishing-stone. -Now he no longer had to guess at what Chatterer was saying. Not a bit -of it. He knew. - -He talked the same language himself. In short, he was a red squirrel, -and in two minutes had forgotten that he ever had been a boy. - -How good it felt to be free and know that he could do just as he -pleased! His first impulse was to race over to the Old Orchard and make -the acquaintance of Chatterer. Then he thought better of it. Something -inside him seemed to tell him that he had no business there--that the -Old Orchard was not big enough for two red squirrels, and that, as -Chatterer had gone there first, it really belonged to him in a way. - -He felt quite sure of it when he had replied to Chatterer’s sharp -voice, and had been told in no uncertain tones that the best thing he -could do would be to run right back where he had come from. - -Of course, he couldn’t do that, so he decided to do the next best -thing--run over to the Green Forest and see what there was to do there. -He hopped up on the rail fence and whisked along the top rail. - -What fun it was! He didn’t have a care in the world. All he had to -do was to eat, drink, and have a good time. Ha! who was that coming -along behind him? Was it Chatterer? It looked something like him, yet -different somehow. Tommy sat quite still watching the stranger, and, -as he watched, a curious terror began to creep over him. - -The stranger wasn’t Chatterer! No, indeed, he wasn’t even a squirrel! -He was too long and slim, and his tail was different. He was Shadow the -Weasel! Tommy didn’t have to be told that. Although he never had seen -Shadow before, he knew without being told. For a minute he couldn’t -move. Then, his heart beating with fear until it seemed as if it would -burst, he fled along the fence toward the Green Forest, and now he -didn’t stop at the posts when he came to them. His one thought was to -get away, away as far as ever he could; for in the eyes of Shadow the -Weasel he had seen death. - -Up the nearest tree he raced and hid, clinging close to the trunk near -the top, staring down with eyes fairly bulging with fright. Swiftly, -yet without seeming to hurry, Shadow the Weasel came straight to the -tree in which Tommy was hiding, his nose in Tommy’s tracks in the way -that a hound follows a rabbit or a fox. At the foot of the tree he -stopped just a second and looked up. Then he began to climb. - -At the first scratch of his claws on the bark Tommy raced out along a -branch and leaped across to the next tree. Then, in a great panic, he -went on from tree to tree, taking desperate chances in his long leaps. -In the whole of his little being he had room for but one feeling, and -that was fear--fear of that savage pitiless pursuer. - -He had run a long way before he realized that he was no longer being -followed. The fact is, Shadow had found other game, easier to catch, -and had given up. Now, just as soon as Tommy realized that Shadow the -Weasel was no longer on his track, he straightway forgot his fear. In -fact it was just as if he never had had a fright, for that is the law -of Mother Nature with her little people of the wild. So presently Tommy -was once more as happy and care-free as before. - -In a big chestnut-tree just ahead of him he could see Happy Jack the -Gray Squirrel; and Happy Jack was very busy about something. Perhaps he -had a storehouse there. The very thought made Tommy hungry. Once more -he hid, but this time not in fear. He hid so that he could watch Happy -Jack. Not a sound did he make as he peered out from his hiding-place. - -Happy Jack was a long time in that hollow limb? It seemed as if he -never would come out. So Tommy started on to look for more mischief, -for he was bubbling over with good spirits and felt that he must do -something. - -Presently, quite by accident, he discovered another hoard of nuts, -mostly acorns, neatly tucked away in a crotch of a big tree. Of course -he sampled them. “What fun!” thought he. “I don’t know who they belong -to, and I don’t care. From now on, they are going to belong to me.” - -He started to carry them away, but a sudden harsh scream close to him -startled him so that he dropped the nut he had in his mouth. He dodged -behind the trunk of the tree just in time to escape the dash of an -angry bird in a brilliant blue suit with white and black trimmings. - -[Illustration: A SUDDEN HARSH SCREAM STARTLED HIM SO THAT HE DROPPED -THE NUT] - -“Thief! thief! thief! Leave my acorns alone!” screamed Sammy Jay, anger -making his voice harsher than ever. - -Round and round the trunk of the tree Tommy dodged, chattering back in -reply to the sharp tongue of the angry bird. It was exciting without -being very dangerous. After a while, however, it grew tiresome, and, -watching his chance, he slipped over to another tree and into a hole -made by Drummer the Woodpecker. Sammy Jay didn’t see where he had -disappeared, and, after hunting in vain, gave up and began to carry his -acorns away to a new hiding-place. Tommy’s eyes sparkled with mischief -as he watched. By and by he would have a hunt for it! It would be fun! - -When Sammy Jay had hidden the last acorn and flown away, Tommy came -out. He didn’t feel like hunting for those acorns just then, so he -scampered up in a tall hemlock-tree, and, just out of sheer good -spirits and because he could see no danger near, he called sharply that -all within hearing might know that he was about. - -Almost instantly he received a reply from not far away. It was an angry -warning to keep away from that part of the Green Forest, because he -had no business there! It was the voice of Chatterer. Tommy replied -just as angrily that he would stay if he wanted to. Then they barked -and chattered at each other for a long time. Gradually Chatterer came -nearer. Finally he was in the very next tree. He stopped there long -enough to tell Tommy all that he would do to him when he caught him, -and at the end he jumped across to Tommy’s tree. - -Tommy waited no longer. He wasn’t ready to fight. In the first place he -knew that Chatterer probably had lived there a long time, and so was -partly right in saying that Tommy had no business there. Then Chatterer -looked a little the bigger and stronger. So Tommy nimbly ran out on a -branch and leaped across to the next tree. In a flash Chatterer was -after him, and then began a most exciting race through the tree-tops. - -Tommy found that there were regular squirrel highways through the -tree-tops, and along these he raced at top speed, Chatterer at his -heels, scolding and threatening. When he reached the edge of the Green -Forest, Tommy darted down the last tree, across the open space to the -old stone wall and along this, Chatterer following. - -Suddenly the anger in Chatterer’s voice changed to a sharp cry of -warning. Tommy scrambled into a crevice between two stones without -stopping to inquire what the trouble was. When he peeped out, he saw -a great bird sailing back and forth. In a few minutes it alighted on -a near-by tree, and sat there so still that, if Tommy had not seen it -alight, he never would have known it was there. - -“Mr. Goshawk nearly got you that time,” said a voice very near at -hand. Tommy turned to find Chatterer peeping out from another crevice -in the old wall. “It won’t be safe for us to show ourselves until he -leaves,” continued Chatterer. “It’s getting so that an honest squirrel -needs eyes in the back of his head to keep his skin whole, not to -mention living out his natural life. Hello! here comes a boy, and that -means more trouble. There’s one good thing about it, and that is he’ll -frighten away that hawk.” - -Tommy looked, and sure enough there was a boy, and in his hands was an -air-rifle. Tommy didn’t know what it was, but Chatterer did. - -“I wish that hawk would hurry up and fly so that we can run!” he -sputtered. “The thing that boy carries throws things, and they hurt. -It isn’t best to let him get too near when he has that with him. He -seems to think it’s fun to hurt us. I’d just like to bite him once and -see if he thought _that_ was fun! There goes that hawk. Come on now, -we’ve got to run for it!” - -Chatterer led the way and Tommy followed. He was frightened, but there -wasn’t that terror which had possessed him when Shadow the Weasel was -after him. Something struck sharply against the wall just behind him. -It frightened him into greater speed. Something struck just in front -of him, and then something hit him so hard that just for a second he -nearly lost his balance. It hurt dreadfully. - -“Hurrah!” shouted the boy, “I hit him that time!” Then the boy started -to run after them so as to get a closer shot. - -“We’ll get up in the top of that big hemlock-tree and he won’t be able -to see us,” panted Chatterer. “Did he hit you? That’s too bad. It might -have been worse though. If he had had one of those things that make a -big noise and smoke we might not either of us be here now. - -“Boys are hateful things. I don’t see what fun they get out of -frightening and hurting such little folks as you and me. They’re -brutes! That’s what they are! When we get across that little open -place, we can laugh at him. Come on now!” - -Down from the end of the old wall Chatterer jumped and raced across to -the foot of a big hemlock-tree, Tommy at his heels. Up the tree they -ran and hid close to the trunk where the branches were thick. They -could peer down and see the boy, but he couldn’t see them. He walked -around the tree two or three times, and then shot up into the top to -try to frighten the squirrels. - -“Don’t move!” whispered Chatterer. “He doesn’t see us.” - -Tommy obeyed, although he felt as if he must run. His heart seemed to -jump every time a bullet spatted in among the branches. It was dreadful -to sit there and do nothing while being shot at, and not know but that -the very next minute one of those little lead shot would hit. Tommy -knew just how it would hurt if it did hit. - -Presently the boy gave up and went off to torment some one else. No -sooner was his back fairly turned than Chatterer began to scold and -jeer at him. Tommy joined him. It was just as if there never had been -any danger. If that boy could have understood what they said, his ears -would have burned. - -Then Chatterer showed Tommy just what part of the Green Forest he -claimed as his own, and also showed him a part that had belonged to -another squirrel to whom something had happened, and suggested that -Tommy take that for his. It wasn’t as good as Chatterer’s, but still it -would do very well. Tommy took possession at once. Each agreed not to -intrude on the other’s territory. On common ground, that didn’t belong -to either of them, they would be the best of friends, but Tommy knew -that if he went into Chatterer’s part of the Green Forest, he would -have to fight, and he made up his mind that if any other squirrel came -into _his_ part of the Green Forest, there would be a fight. Suddenly -he was very jealous of his new possession. He was hardly willing to -leave it, when Chatterer suggested a visit to a near-by corn-crib for a -feast of yellow corn. - -Chatterer led the way. Tommy found that he was quite lame from the shot -which had hit him, but he was soon racing after Chatterer again. - -Along the old stone wall, then along a fence, up a maple-tree, and from -there to the roof of the corn-crib, they scampered. Chatterer knew just -where to get inside, and in a few minutes they were stuffing themselves -with yellow corn. When they had eaten all that they could hold, they -stuffed their cheeks full and started back the way they had come. - -Tommy went straight to his own part of the Green Forest, and there he -hid his treasure, some in a hollow stump, and some under a little pile -of leaves between the roots of a tree. All the time he watched sharply -to make sure that no one saw him. While looking for new hiding-places, -his nose told him to dig. There, buried under the leaves, he found -nuts hidden by the one who had lived there before him. There must be -many more hidden there, and it would be great fun hunting for them. -Doubtless he would find as many as if he had hidden them himself, for -he had seen that Chatterer didn’t know where he had put a tenth part of -the things _he_ had hidden. He just trusted to his nose to help him -get them again. - -He found a splendid nest made of leaves and strips of inner bark in the -hollow stub of a big branch of a chestnut-tree, and he made up his mind -that there was where he would sleep. Then he ran over to see Chatterer -again. He found him scolding at a cat who watched him with yellow, -unblinking eyes. Chatterer would run down the trunk of the tree almost -to the ground, and there scold and call names as fast as his tongue -could go. Then he would run back up to the lowest branch and scold from -there. The next time he would go a little farther down. Finally he -leaped to the ground, and raced across to another tree. The cat sprang, -but was just too late. Chatterer jeered at her. Then he began the same -thing over again, and kept at it until finally the cat gave up and left -in disgust. It had been exciting, but Tommy shivered at the thought of -what might have happened. - -“Ever try that with a fox?” asked Chatterer. - -“No,” replied Tommy. - -“I have!” boasted Chatterer. “But I’ve seen squirrels caught doing it,” -he said. “Still, I suppose one may as well be caught by a fox as by a -hawk.” - -“Did you see that weasel this morning?” asked Tommy. - -Chatterer actually shivered as he replied: “Yes, I saw him after you. -It’s a wonder he didn’t get you. You’re lucky! I was lucky myself -this morning, for a mink went right past where I was hiding. Life is -nothing but one jump after another these days. It seems as if, when one -has worked as hard as I did last fall to store up enough food to keep -me all winter, I ought to be allowed to enjoy it in comfort. - -“Those who sleep all winter, like Johnny Chuck, have a mighty easy time -of it. They don’t know when they are well off. Still, I’d hate to miss -all the excitement and fun of life. I would rather jump for my life -twenty times a day as I have to, and know that I’m alive, than to be -alive and not know it. See that dog down there? I hate dogs! I’m going -to tell him so.” - -Off raced Chatterer to bark and scold at a little black-and-white -dog which paid no attention to him at all. The shadows were creeping -through the trees, and Tommy began to think of his nest. He looked -once more at Chatterer, who was racing along the top of the old wall -scolding at the dog. Suddenly what seemed like merely a darker shadow -swept over Chatterer, and, when it had passed, he had vanished. For -once, that fatal once, he had been careless. Hooty the Owl had caught -him. Tommy shivered. He was frightened and cold. He would get to his -nest as quickly as he could. He leaped down to a great gray stone, -and--behold, he wasn’t a squirrel at all! He was just a boy sitting on -a big stone, with a heap of Christmas greens at his feet. - -He shivered, for he was cold. Then he jumped up and stamped his feet -and threshed his arms. A million diamond points glittered in the white -meadows where the snow crystals splintered the sunbeams. From the Old -Orchard sounded the sharp scolding chirr and cough of Chatterer the Red -Squirrel. - -Tommy listened and slowly a smile widened. “Hooty didn’t get you after -all!” he muttered. Then in a minute he added: “I’m glad of it. And you -haven’t anything more to fear from me. You won’t believe it, but you -haven’t. You may be mischievous, but I guess you have troubles enough -without me adding to them. Oh, but I’m glad I’m not a squirrel! Being -a boy’s good enough for me, ’specially ’long ’bout Christmas time. -I guess Sis will be tickled with these greens. But it’s queer what -happens when I sit down on this old rock!” - -He frowned at it as if he couldn’t understand it at all. Then he -gathered up his load of greens, and, with the merriest of whistles, -trudged homeward. And to this day Chatterer the Red Squirrel cannot -understand how it came about that from that Christmas he and Tommy -became fast friends. But they did. - -Perhaps the wishing-stone could tell if it would. - - - - -CHAPTER THREE THE PLEASURES AND TROUBLES OF BOBBY COON - - -Tommy was trudging down to the corn-field, and his freckled face was -rather sober. At least it was sober for him, considering why he was on -his way to the corn-field. It wasn’t to work. If it had been, his sober -look would have been quite easy to understand. The fact is, Tommy was -going on an errand that once would have filled him with joy and sent -him whistling all the way. - -“Coons are raising mischief down in the corn! You’d better get your -traps out and see if you can catch the thieving little rascals. Go -down and look the ground over, and see what you think,” his father had -said to him at noon that day. - -So here he was on his way to look for signs of Bobby Coon, and, if the -truth were known, actually hoping that he wouldn’t find them! There -had been a time when he would have been all excitement over his quest, -and eager to find the tell-tale tracks where Bobby Coon went into and -out of the corn-field. Then he would have hurried home for his traps -in great glee, or instead would have planned to watch with his gun for -Bobby that very night. - -But now he had no such feelings. Somehow, he had come to regard his -little wild neighbors in a wholly different light. He no longer desired -to do them harm. Ever since he had begun to learn what their real -lives were like, by wishing himself one of them as he sat on the old -wishing-stone, he had cared less and less to hunt and frighten them and -more and more to try to make friends with them. - -His teacher would have said that he had a “sympathetic understanding” -of them, and then probably would have had to explain to Tommy what -that meant--that he knew just how they felt and had learned to look at -things from their point of view. And it was true. He had put away his -gun and traps. He no longer desired to kill. He liked to hunt for these -little wild people as much as ever, perhaps more, but it was in order -to make friends with them, and to find out more about their ways and -habits, instead of to kill them. - -So it was that he didn’t like his present errand. On the brow of the -hill that overlooked the corn-field he stopped for a minute to look -down on the broad acres of long-leaved stalks standing row on row, row -on row, like a well drilled army. He thought of the long hours he had -spent among them toiling with his hoe in the hot sunshine when the -swimming-hole was calling to him, and a sudden sense of pride swept -over him. The great sturdy plants no longer needed his hoe to keep the -weeds down. The ears had filled out and were in the milk now. - -“Seems as if we could spare what little a coon wants,” muttered Tommy, -as he gazed down on the field. “Of course, if there is a whole family -of ’em, something’s got to be done, but I don’t believe one coon can -eat enough to do much harm. Dad promised me a share in the crop, when -it’s harvested, to pay for my work. It isn’t likely to be very much, -and goodness knows I want every penny of it; but I guess, if that coon -isn’t doing too much damage, I can pay for it.” - -Tommy’s face lighted up at the idea. It was going to take self-denial -on his part, but it was a way out. The thought chased the soberness -from his face and put a spring into his hitherto reluctant steps. He -went at once to that part of the corn-field nearest the Green Forest. -It did not take him long to discover the evidences that a raccoon, or -perhaps more than one, had been taking toll. Here a stalk less sturdy -than its neighbors had been pulled down, the husks stripped from the -ears, and a few mouthfuls of the milky grains taken. There a stalk had -been climbed and an ear stripped and bitten into. - -“Wasteful little beggar!” muttered Tommy. “Why can’t you be content -to take an ear at a time and clean it up? Then there would be no kick -coming. Dad wouldn’t mind if you filled your little tummy every night, -if you didn’t spoil ten times as much as you eat. Ha! here are your -tracks. Now we’ll see where you come in.” - -Except for the sharp tips of the toes, the tracks were not unlike the -print of a tiny hand, and there was no mistaking them for the tracks of -any other animal. Tommy studied them until he was sure that all were -made by one raccoon, and he was convinced that he had but one to deal -with. - -At length he found the place where the animal was in the habit of -entering the field. There was just the suggestion of a path through -the grass in the direction of the Green Forest. It was very clear that -Bobby Coon came and went regularly that way, and of course this was the -place to set a trap. Tommy’s face clouded again at the thought. - -“I believe I’ll go up to the old wishing-stone and think it out,” he -muttered. - -So he headed for the familiar old wishing-stone that overlooked the -Green Meadows and the corn-field, and was not so very far from the -Green Forest; and when he reached it, he sat down. It is doubtful if -Tommy ever got past that old stone without sitting down on it. This -time he had no intention of wishing himself into anything, yet hardly -had he sat down when he did. You see his thoughts were all of Bobby -Coon, and so, without stopping to think where he was, he said to no one -in particular: “There are some things I want to know about raccoons. I -wish I could be one long enough to find out.” - - * * * * * - -Tommy’s wish had come true. He was no longer Tommy the boy, but Tommy -the coon. He was a thick-set, rather clumsy-looking gray-coated fellow, -with a black ringed tail and a black band across the eyes. His ears -were sharp, and his face was not unlike that of Reddy Fox in its -outline. His toes were long and bare; and when he walked, it was with -his whole foot on the ground as a man does and as a bear does. In fact, -although he didn’t know it, he was own cousin to Buster Bear. - -Tommy’s home was a hollow tree with the entrance high up. Inside he had -a comfortable bed, and there he spent his days sleeping away the long -hours of sunshine. Night was the time he liked best to be abroad, and -then he roamed far and wide without fear. - -Reddy Fox he was not afraid of at all. In fact there was no one he -feared much but man, and in the darkness of the night he thought he -need not even fear him. - -Tommy’s hollow tree was in a swamp through which flowed a brook, and -it was Tommy’s delight to explore this brook, sometimes up, sometimes -down. In it were fish to be caught, and Tommy as a boy never delighted -in fishing more than did Tommy as a coon. On moonlight nights he would -steal softly up to a quiet pool and, on the very edge of it, possess -himself in patience, as a good fisherman should. Presently a careless -fish would swim within reach. A swift scoop with a black little paw -with five sharp little hooks extended--and the fish would be high and -dry on the shore. It was great fun. - -Sometimes he would visit marshy places where the frogs were making the -night noisy with a mighty chorus. This was the easiest kind of hunting. -He had only to locate the spot from which one of those voices issued, -steal softly up, and there was one less singer, though the voice would -hardly be missed in the great chorus. Occasionally he would take a -hint from Jerry Muskrat and, where the water was very shallow, dig out -a few mussels or fresh-water clams. - -At other times, just by way of varying his bill of fare, he would -go hunting. This was less certain of results but exciting; and when -successful, the reward was great. Especially was this so in the nesting -season, and many a good meal of eggs did Tommy have, to say nothing of -tender young birds. Occasionally he prowled through the tree-tops in -hope of surprising a family of young squirrels in their sleep. None -knew better than he that in the light of day he could not catch them; -but at night, when they could not see and he could, it was another -matter. - -But fish, meat, and eggs were only a part of Tommy’s diet. Fruit, -berries, and nuts in their season were quite as much to his liking, not -to mention certain tender roots. One day, quite by chance while he was -exploring a hollow tree, he discovered that it already had tenants and -that they were makers of the most delicious sweets he ever had tasted. -In short, he almost made himself sick on wild honey, his long hair -protecting him from the little lances of the bees. After that he kept a -sharp eye out for sweets and so discovered that bumble-bees make their -nests in the ground; and that while they contained a scant supply of -honey, there was enough as a rule to make it worth while to dig them -open. - -So Tommy grew fat and lazy. There was plenty to eat without working -very hard for it, and he shuffled about in the Green Forest and along -the Laughing Brook, eating whatever tempted him and having a good time -generally. - -He dearly loved to play along the edge of the water and was as tickled -as a child with anything bright and shiny. Once he found a bit of tin -shining in the moonlight and spent most of the remainder of that night -playing with it. About one thing he was very particular. If he had meat -of any kind and there was water near, he always washed it carefully -before eating. In fact Tommy was very neat. It was born in him. - -Sometimes daylight caught him far from his hollow tree. Then he would -look for an old nest of a hawk or crow and curl up in it to sleep the -day away. If none was handy and he could find no hollow tree or stump, -he would climb a big tree and stretch himself flat along one of the -big limbs and there sleep until the Black Shadows came creeping through -the Green Forest. - -Once in a while he would be discovered by the sharp eyes of Sammy Jay -or Blacky the Crow, and then life would be made miserable for him until -he would be glad to wake up and seek some hiding-place where they could -not see him. It was for this reason chiefly that he always tried to get -back to his own snug den by the time jolly, round, red Mr. Sun shook -his rosy blankets off and began his daily climb up in the blue, blue -sky. - -[Illustration: ONCE IN A WHILE, HE WOULD BE DISCOVERED] - -One night he met Bobby Coon himself. - -“Where do you live?” asked Tommy. - -“Over on the Mountain,” replied Bobby. - -“In a hollow tree?” asked Tommy. - -“No. Oh, my, no!” replied Bobby. “I’ve got the nicest den in a ledge of -rock. No more hollow trees for me.” - -“Why not?” demanded Tommy. - -“They aren’t safe,” retorted Bobby. “I used to live in a hollow tree, -but I’ve learned better. I guess you’ve never been hunted. When you’ve -been nearly choked to death by smoke in your hollow tree, or had it cut -down with you in it and barely escaped by the skin of your teeth, you -won’t think so much of hollow trees. Give me a good rocky den every -time.” - -“But where does the smoke come from, and why should my hollow tree be -cut down?” asked Tommy, to whom this was all new and very strange. - -“Hunters,” replied Bobby briefly. “You wait until the cool weather -comes and you’ll find out what I mean.” - -“But who are the hunters and what do they hunt us for?” persisted Tommy. - -“My, but you are innocent!” retorted Bobby. “They are those two-legged -creatures called men, and I don’t know what they hunt us for. They just -do, that’s all. They seem to think it’s fun. I wish one of them would -have to fight for _his_ life. Perhaps he wouldn’t see so much fun in it -then. It was last fall that they drove me out of my hollow tree, and -they pretty nearly got me, too. But they won’t do it this year! You -take my advice and get a den in the rocks. Then you can laugh at them.” - -“But what will they hunt me for? I haven’t done them any harm,” -persisted Tommy. - -“That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” retorted Bobby. “They do it -for _fun_. Have you tried the corn yet? It’s perfectly delicious. Come -on and we’ll have a feast.” - -Now of course Tommy was ready for a feast. The very thought of it put -everything else out of his head. He shuffled along behind Bobby Coon -through the Green Forest, across a little stretch of meadow, and under -the bars of a fence into a corn-field. For a minute he sat and watched -Bobby. It was Tommy’s first visit to a corn-field and he didn’t know -just what to do. But Bobby did. Oh, yes, Bobby did. He stood up on his -hind legs and pulled one of the more slender stalks down until he -could get at the lowest ear. Then he stripped off the husk and took a -huge bite of the tender milky kernels. - -“_Um-m-m_,” said Bobby Coon, and took another. - -Tommy waited no longer. He found a stalk for himself, and two minutes -later he was stuffing himself with the most delicious meal he ever -had tasted. At least he thought so then. He forgot all about dens and -hunters. He had no thought for anything but the feast before him. Here -was plenty and to spare. - -He dropped the ear he was eating and climbed a big stalk to strip -another ear. The first one was good but this one was better. Perhaps a -third would be better still. So he sampled a third. The moon flooded -the corn-field with silvery light. It was just the kind of a night that -all raccoons love, and in that field of plenty Bobby and Tommy were -perfectly happy. They did not know that they were in mischief. How -should they? The corn was no more than other green things growing of -which they were free to help themselves. So they wandered about, taking -here a bite and there a bite and wasting many times as much as they ate. - -Suddenly, in the midst of their good time, there sounded the yelp of a -dog, and there was something about it that sent a chill of fright along -Tommy’s backbone. It was an excited and joyous yelp and yet there was -something threatening in it. It was followed by another yelp, and then -another, each more excited than the others, and then it broke into a -full-throated roar in which there was something fierce and terrifying. -It was coming nearer through the corn. Tommy looked over to where -he had last seen Bobby Coon. He wasn’t there, but a rustling of the -corn-stalks beyond told him that Bobby was running, running for his -life. - -Tommy was in a panic. He never had had to run for his life before. -Where should he go? To the Green Forest of course, where there were -trees to climb. In a tree he would be safe. Then he heard another -sound, the shout of a man. He remembered what Bobby Coon had said about -trees and a new fear took possession of him. While he still hesitated, -the dog passed, only a few yards away in the corn. Tommy heard the -rustle of the stalks and the roar of his savage voice. And then -suddenly he knew that the dog was not after him. He was following the -tracks of Bobby Coon. - -Swiftly Tommy stole through the corn and ran across the bit of meadow, -his heart in his mouth, to the great black bulk of the Green Forest. -He ran swiftly, surprisingly so for such a clumsy-looking fellow. How -friendly the tall trees looked! They seemed to promise safety. It was -hard to believe that Bobby Coon was right and that they did not. He -kept on, nor stopped until he was in his own hollow tree. The voice -of the dog came to him, growing fainter and fainter in the direction -of the mountain, and finally ceased altogether. He wondered if Bobby -reached his den and was safe. - -Of one thing Tommy was certain: that corn-field was no place for him. -So he kept away from it and tried not to think of how good that milky -corn had tasted. So the summer passed and the fall came with falling -leaves and sharp frosty nights. They gave Tommy even more of an -appetite, though there had been nothing the matter with that before. He -grew fatter and fatter so that it made him puff to run. Unknown to him, -Old Mother Nature was preparing him for the long winter sleep. - -By this time the memory of the dog and of what Bobby Coon had said -about hollow trees had almost dropped from his mind. He was concerned -over nothing but filling his stomach and enjoying those frosty -moonlight nights. He interfered with no one and no one interfered with -him. - -One night he had gone down to the Laughing Brook, fishing. Without -warning, there broke out on the still air the horrid sound of that -yelping dog. Tommy listened for just a minute. This time it was _his_ -trail that dog was following. There could be no doubt about it. Tommy -turned and ran swiftly. But he was fat and heavy, and he could hear the -dog gaining rapidly. Straight for his hollow tree fled Tommy, and even -as he reached it the dog was almost at his heels. Up the tree scrambled -Tommy and, from the safe vantage of a big limb which was the threshold -of his home, he looked down. The dog was leaping up against the base -of the tree excitedly and his voice had changed. He was barking. A -feeling of relief swept over Tommy. The dog could not climb; he was -safe. - -But presently there were new sounds in the Green Forest, the shouting -of men. Lights twinkled and drew nearer. Staring down from the edge of -his hole, Tommy saw eager, cruel faces looking up. With a terrible fear -gripping his heart he crept down into his bed. Presently the tree shook -with the jar of an ax. Blow followed blow. The tree vibrated to each -blow and the vibrations passed through Tommy’s body so that it shook, -but it shook still more with a nameless and terrible fear. - -At last there was a sharp cracking sound. Tommy felt himself falling -through space. He remembered what Bobby Coon had told him, and he -wondered if he would be lucky enough to escape as Bobby did. Then he -shut his eyes tight, waiting for the crash when the tree should strike -the ground. - -When he opened his eyes, he was--just Tommy sitting on the -wishing-stone overlooking the Green Meadows. His face was wet with -perspiration. Was it from the sun beating down upon him, or was it from -the fear that had gripped him when that tree began to fall? A shudder -ran over him at the memory. He looked over to the corn-field where he -had found the tracks of Bobby Coon and the mischief he had wrought. -What was he to do about it? Somehow strangely his sympathy was with -Bobby. - -“He doesn’t know any better,” muttered Tommy. “He thinks that corn -belongs to him as much as to anybody else, and there isn’t any reason -why he shouldn’t think so. It isn’t fair to trap him or kill him for -something he doesn’t know he shouldn’t do. If he just knew enough to -eat what he wants and not waste so much, I guess there wouldn’t be any -trouble. He’s just like a lot of folks who have so much they don’t know -what to do with it, only they know better than to waste it, and he -doesn’t. I know what I’ll do. I’ll take Bowser down there to-night and -give him a scare. I’ll give him such a scare that he won’t dare come -back until the corn is so hard he won’t want it. That’s what I’ll do! - -“My, it must be awful to think you’re safe and then find you’re -trapped! I guess I won’t ever hunt coons any more. I used to think -it was fun, but I never thought how the coon must feel. Now I know -and--and--well, a live coon is a lot more interesting than a dead one, -anyway. Funny what I find out on this old wishing-stone. If I keep on, -I won’t want to hunt anything any more.” - -Tommy got up, stretched, began to whistle as if there was a load off -his mind, and started for home, still whistling. - -And his whistle was good to hear. - - - - -CHAPTER FOUR HOW TOMMY ENVIED HONKER THE GOOSE - - -The feel of spring was in the air. The sound of it filled Tommy’s ears. -The smell of it filled his nostrils and caused him to take long, deep -breaths. The sight of it gladdened his eyes, and the joy of it thrilled -his heart. For the spring, you know, has really arrived only when it -can be felt, heard, smelled, and seen, and has the power to fill all -living things with abounding joy and happiness. - -Winter had been long in going. It seemed to Tommy that it never would -go. He liked winter. Oh, yes, Tommy liked winter! He liked to skate -and slide, to build snow forts and houses, and make snow men. He liked -to put on his snow-shoes and tramp through the Green Forest, for many -are the secrets of the summer which the winter reveals to those with -eyes to see, and Tommy was trying to train his eyes to be of that kind. -But when it was time for winter to go, he wanted it to go quickly, and -it hadn’t. It had dragged on and dragged on. To be sure, there had been -a few springlike days, but they had been only an aggravation. - -But this day was different, and Tommy knew that at last spring had -arrived. It was not that it was long past time, for it was now almost -April. It was something more. It was just a something that, throbbing -all through him, told him that this time there was no mistake--spring -was really here. There was a softness in the touch of gentle Sister -Southwind which was like a caress. From over in the Green Forest came -the gurgle of the Laughing Brook, and mingling with it was the soft -whistle of Winsome Bluebird, the cheery song of Welcome Robin, the -joyous greeting of Little Friend the Song-sparrow, the clear lilt of -Carol the Meadow-lark, the sweet love call of Tommy Tit, the Chickadee, -and under all a subdued murmur, sensed rather than really heard, as of -a gentle stirring of reawakened life. So Tommy _heard_ the spring. - -And in each long breath he drew there was the odor of damp, warm soil -such as the earth gives up only at this season. And so Tommy _smelled_ -the spring. - -And looking from the top of the hill above the wishing-stone down -across the Green Meadows to the Old Pasture and beyond to the Purple -Hills, he saw all as through a soft and beautiful haze, which was -neither fog nor smoke, but as if old Mother Nature had drawn an -exquisite veil over the face of the earth until it should be made -beautiful. And so Tommy _saw_ the spring. - -He whistled joyously as he tramped down to the dear old wishing-stone -and sat down on it, his hands clasped about his crossed knees. Seasons -came and went, but the wishing-stone, the great, gray stone which -overlooked the Green Meadows, remained always the same. How many, many -winters it must have seen go, and how many, many springs it must have -seen come, some early and some, like this one, late, but all beautiful! - -In all the years it had been there how many of old Mother Nature’s -children, little people in fur, little people in feathers, little -people in scaly suits, and little people with neither fur nor feathers -nor scales, but with gauzy or beautifully colored wings, or crawling -with many feet, must have rested there just as he was doing now! - -Somehow Tommy always got to thinking of these little people whenever -he sat on the wishing-stone. From it he had watched many of them -and learned much of their ways. But he had learned still more by -wishing. That seems queer, but it was so. He had wished that he was a -meadow-mouse, and no sooner had he wished it than he had been one. In -turn he had wished himself into a red squirrel, a rabbit, and a mink, -and he had lived their lives; had learned how they work and play; how -sometimes they have plenty, but quite as often go hungry, sometimes -very hungry, and how always they are under the shadow of fear, and the -price of life is eternal watchfulness. - -“I suppose some people would say that I fell asleep and dreamed it all, -but I know better,” said Tommy. “If they were dreams, why don’t I have -the same kind at home in bed? But it’s only out here on this old stone -when I wish I were something that I become it. So of course it isn’t a -dream! Now I think of it, every single time I’ve wished myself one of -these little animals, it has been because I thought they had a better -and an easier time than I do, and every time I’ve been mighty glad that -I’m just what I am. I wonder----” He paused a minute, for a sudden -thought had popped into his head. “I wonder,” he finished, “if those -wishes came true just to teach me not to be discontented. I wonder if a -wish would come true if I weren’t discontented!” - -He was still wondering when, floating down out of the sky, came a clear -“_Honk, honk, honk, k’honk, honk, honk, k’honk._” Instantly Tommy -turned his freckled face and eager eyes skyward. - -“Wild geese!” he exclaimed. - -“_Honk, honk, k’honk, honk!_” The sound was loud and clear, but it -seemed to come from nowhere in particular and everywhere in general. Of -course it came from somewhere up in the sky, but it was very hard to -place it as from any particular part. It was a good two minutes before -Tommy’s eyes, sharp as they were, found what he was looking for--a -black wedge moving across the sky, a wedge made up of little, black -living spots. At least they looked little. That was because they were -so high, so very high in the sky. - -He knew that each of those black spots was a great, broad-winged -bird--a Canada goose. He could see the long outstretched necks as tiny -black lines. One behind another in two long lines which met in a letter -V, like well-drilled soldiers maintaining perfect formation, the leader -at the apex of the V, and behind him each bird a given distance from -the one in front, they moved steadily across the sky, straight into the -north. - -“_Honk, honk, k’honk, honk, k’honk, k’honk, honk!_” There was something -indescribably thrilling in the sound. It made the blood leap and race -through Tommy’s veins. Long after the living wedge had passed beyond -his vision those clarion notes rang in his ears--“_honk, honk, k’honk, -honk, k’honk, k’honk, honk!_” They were at once a challenge and a call -to the wild freedom of the great wilderness. They filled his heart with -a great longing. It swelled and pulsed with a vast desire. - -“Oh,” he sighed, “it must be great to be able to fly like that. I would -rather fly than do anything I know of. I envy old Honker in the lead -there, I do. I wish I could join him this very minute!” - -Of course that wish had slipped out unthinkingly. But that made no -difference. Tommy had wished, and now here he was high in the air, no -longer a boy, but a great bird, the last one in a long line of great -birds beating the thin air with stout, tireless wings as they followed -Honker, the leader, straight into the North. Far, far below lay the -Great World. It seemed to Tommy that he had no part in it now. A fierce -tumultuous joy surged through him and demanded expression. Spring had -come, and he must tell those plodding creatures, mere specks, crawling -on the distant earth. _Honk, honk, k’honk, honk, k’honk!_ - -Never in all his life had Tommy felt such a thrill as possessed him -now. Looking down, he saw brown meadows and pastures showing just a -hint of green here and there, green forests and bare woodlands, silver -threads, which he knew to be rivers, shining spots which were lakes and -ponds, and villages which looked like toys. - -Once they passed over a great city, but it did not look great at all. -Seen through the murk of the smoke from many factory chimneys, it was -not unlike an ant-hill which had been opened,--tiny black objects, -which were really men, women, children, horses, and motor-cars, seeming -to hurry aimlessly in all directions, for all the world like ants. - -So all day they flew, crying the glad message of the spring to the -crawling things below. Just a little while before the setting of the -sun, Honker, the leader, slanted down toward a shining spot in the -heart of a great forest, and the others followed. Rapidly the shining -spot grew in size until below them lay a pond far from the homes of -men, and to the very middle of this Honker led the way, while the whole -flock broke into excited gabbling, for they had flown far and were -tired. With a splash Honker struck the water, and with splash after -splash the others followed, Tommy the last, because, you know, he was -at the end of one of those long lines. - -Then for a while they rested, the wise old leader scanning the shores -with keen eyes for possible danger. Satisfied that all was well, he -gave a signal and led the way to a secluded cove where the water was -shallow and the shore marshy. It was clear that he had been there -before, and had come with a purpose. Slowly they swam, Honker well in -the lead, necks held high, the eyes of all alert and studying the -nearing shore. There was no honking now, not a sound. To Tommy, in his -inexperience, such watchfulness seemed needless. What possible danger -could there be in such a lonely place? But he wisely kept his place and -did as the others did. - -At length they were close to shore, and Honker gave a low signal which -meant that all was well. Instantly the formation was broken, and with -a low, contented gabbling the flock began feeding on eel-grass, roots, -and sedges from the mud at the bottom. For an hour they fed, then they -swam about, or sat on the shore preening their feathers while the -shadows deepened. But all the time Honker and some of the older ganders -with eyes and ears alert were on guard. And when at last Tommy put his -head under his wing to sleep, a great content filled his heart. - -[Illustration: HONKER ON THE WATCH] - -The next day was much like the first. With break of day they had -breakfasted, and then, at a signal from Honker, they had mounted up, -up into the blue vault, and all day they had heralded the spring to -the earth below as they flew into the north. So it was the next day -and the next, wise old Honker leading them to some chosen secluded -resting-place each night. - -Gradually the face of the earth below changed. There were no more -cities. The villages became smaller and farther between, and at last -they saw no more, only here and there a lonely farm. Great forests and -lakes succeeded each other, the air grew colder, but with his thick -coat of feathers Tommy minded it not at all. - -Then, one day, they found they had outflown the spring. Below them the -earth was still frozen and snow-covered. The ponds and lakes were still -ice-bound. Reluctantly Honker turned back to their last stopping-place -and there for a week they rested in peace and security, though not -in contentment, for the call of the North, the Far North, with its -nesting-grounds, was ever with them, and made them impatient and eager -to be on their way. The daily flights were shorter now, and there were -frequent rests of days at a time, for spring advanced slowly, and -they must wait for the unlocking of the lakes and rivers. The forests -changed; the trees became low and stunted. At last they came to a vast -region of bogs and swamps and marshes around shallow lakes and ponds, a -great lonely wilderness, a mighty solitude. At least that is what Tommy -would have thought it had he been a boy or a man instead of a smart -young gander. - -It was neither lonely nor a solitude to him now, but the haven which -had been the object of those hundreds of miles of strong-winged flight. -It was the nesting-ground. It was home! And how could it be lonely -with flock after flock of his own kind coming in every hour of every -day; with thousands of ducks pouring in in swift winged flight, and -countless smaller birds, all intent on home-building? - -The flock broke up into pairs, each intent on speedily securing a home -of their own. On the ground they made great nests of small sticks and -dead grass with a soft lining of down. In each presently were four or -five big eggs. And soon there were downy goslings--scores and scores of -them--in the water with their mothers for the first swimming lesson. - -Then the old birds had to be more vigilant than before, for there were -dangers, many of them, even in that far wilderness: prowling foxes, -hungry lynxes, crafty mink, hawks, fierce owls, each watching for the -chance to dine on tender young goose. So the summer, short in that far -northern region, passed, and the young birds grew until they were as -large as their parents, and able to care for themselves. - -Cold winds swept down out of the frozen Arctic Ocean with warning -that already winter had begun the southward march. Then began a great -gathering of the geese, and a dividing into flocks, each with a chosen -leader, chosen for his strength, his wisdom, and his ability to hold -his leadership against all comers. Many a battle between ambitious -young ganders and old leaders did Tommy see, but he wisely forbore to -challenge old Honker, the leader who had led the way north, and when -the latter gathered the flock for the journey he was one of the first -to fall in line. - -A thousand plus a thousand miles and more stretched before them as -they turned to the south, but to the strength of their broad wings the -distance was as nothing. But this was to be a very different journey -from their trip north, as Tommy soon found out. Then they had been -urged on day by day by a great longing to reach their destination. Now -in place of longing was regret. There was no joy in the going. They -were going because they must. They had no choice. Winter had begun its -southward march. - -The flights were comparatively short, for where food was good they -stayed until some subtle sense warned old Honker that it was time to be -moving. It was when they had left the wilderness and reached the great -farm-lands that they lingered longest. There in the stubble of the -grain fields was feed a-plenty, and every morning at dawn, and again -every afternoon, an hour or so before sundown, Honker led the way to -the fields. During the great part of the day and all night they rested -and slept on the bar of a river, or well out on the bosom of a lake. - -It was now that Tommy learned a new respect for the cunning of the wise -old leader, and also that terrible fear which comes sooner or later to -all wild creatures--the fear of man. Time and again, as they approached -their chosen feeding-ground, there would come a sharp signal from -Honker, and he would abruptly turn the direction of the flight and lead -them to another and much poorer feeding-ground. Yet, look as he would, -Tommy could see no cause, no danger. - -At first Tommy thought it was because other geese seemed to have -reached the feeding-ground first. He could see them standing stiffly as -if watching the newcomers, near them a harmless little heap of straw. -He knew that the feeding was better there, and he wanted to go, but the -spirit of obedience was strong within him, and he followed with the -rest. Once he voiced his disapproval to another bird as they settled -some distance away where it was more work to find the scattered grain. - -“Watch!” he replied in a low tone. “There comes a flock led by that -young upstart who fought and defeated his old leader the day before we -left home. He is leading them straight over there.” - -Tommy watched. Suddenly from that harmless-looking little heap of straw -there sprang two spurts of flame, followed by two sharp reports that -struck terror to his heart. Even as he beat his way into the air, he -looked and saw that foolish young leader and two of his flock falling, -stricken and helpless, to the earth, and a man leap from under the -straw to pick them up. Then he understood, and a new loyalty to old -Honker grew in his heart. - -But in spite of the ever-present danger Honker kept his flock there, -for food was good and plentiful, and he had faith in himself, and -his flock had faith in him. So they lingered, until a driving snow -squall warned them that they must be moving. Keeping just ahead of the -on-coming winter, they journeyed south, and at every stopping-place -they found men and guns waiting. There was no little pond so lonely but -that death might be lurking there. - -Sometimes the call of their own kind would come up to them. Looking -down, they would see geese swimming in seeming security and calling to -them to come down and join them. More than once Honker set his wings -to accept the invitation, only to once more beat his way upward as his -keen eyes detected something amiss on the shore. And so Tommy learned -the baseness of man who would use their own kind to decoy them to death. - -Came at last a sudden swift advance of cold weather which forced them -to fly all night. When day broke, they were weary of wing, and, worse, -the air was thick with driving snow. For the first time, Tommy beheld -Honker uncertain. He still led the flock, but he led he knew not where, -for in the driving snow none could see. - -Low they flew now, but a little way above the earth, making little -progress against the driving storm, and so weary of wing that it was -all they could do to keep their heavy bodies up. It was then that -the welcome honk of other geese came up to them, and, heading in the -direction of the calling voices and honking back their distress, they -discovered water below, and gladly, oh, so gladly, set their wings and -dropped down into this haven of refuge. - -Hardly had the first ones hit the water when, bang! bang! bang! bang! -the fateful guns roared, and when, out of the confusion into which they -were thrown, they once more gathered behind their old leader far out in -the middle of the pond, some of the flock were missing. - -In clear weather they flew high, and it happened on such a day that, -as Tommy looked down, there stirred within him a strange feeling. -Below stretched a green forest with broad meadows beyond, and farther -still an old brush-grown pasture. Somehow it was wonderfully familiar. -Eagerly he looked. There should be something more. Ah, there it was--an -old gray boulder overlooking the meadows! Like a magnet, it seemed to -draw Tommy down to itself. “_Honk, honk, honk, k’honk!_” Tommy heard -the call of his old leader faintly, as if from a distance. - -“_Honk, honk, honk, k’honk, honk, k’honk, honk!_” Tommy opened his eyes -and rubbed them confusedly. Where was he? “_Honk, honk, honk, k’honk, -honk, k’honk!_” He looked up. There, high in the blue sky, was a living -wedge pointing straight into the North, and the joy of the spring was -in the wild clamor that came down to him. - -Slowly he rose from the old wishing-stone, and, with his hands thrust -in his pockets, watched the flock until it was swallowed up in the -distant haze. Long he stood gazing through unseeing eyes while the wild -notes still came to him faintly, and the joy of them rang in his heart. -But there was no longing there now, only a vast content. - -“It must be great to fly like that!” he murmured. “It must be great, -but----” He drew a long breath as he looked over the meadows to the Old -Pasture and heard and saw and felt the joy of the spring--“this is good -enough for me!” he finished. “I don’t envy that old leader a bit. It -may be glorious to be wild and free, to look down and see the Great -World, and all that, but it’s more glorious to be safe and carefree, -and--and just a boy. No, I don’t envy old Honker a little bit. But -isn’t he wonderful! I--I don’t see what men want to hunt him for and -try to kill him. They wouldn’t if they knew how wonderful he is. I -never will. No, sir. I never will! I know how it feels to be hunted, -and--and it’s dreadful. That’s what it is--dreadful! I know! And it’s -all because of the old wishing-stone. I’m glad I know, and--and--gee, -I’m glad it’s spring!” - -“_Honk, honk, honk, k’honk, honk, k’honk._” Another flock of geese were -passing over, and Tommy knew that they, too, were glad, oh, so glad, -that it was spring! - -Two of Tommy’s acquaintances, Reddy Fox and Jerry Muskrat, he thought -he knew all about, but he found that there was much he didn’t know. And -there were two who live deep in the Great Woods whom he had never seen, -Paddy the Beaver and Buster Bear. So to the friendly old wishing-stone -Tommy went and what he learned there you may learn from the next -volume, Tommy’s Change of Heart. - - * * * * * - -TOMMY’S CHANGE OF HEART - - * * * * * - -TOMMY’S CHANGE OF HEART - - - - -CHAPTER ONE HOW IT HAPPENED THAT REDDY FOX GAINED A FRIEND - - -It was funny that Tommy never could pass that gray stone without -sitting down on it for a few minutes. It seemed as if he just couldn’t, -that was all. It had been a favorite seat ever since he was big enough -to drive the cows to pasture and go after them at night. It was just -far enough from home for him to think that he needed a rest when he -reached it. You know a growing boy needs to rest often, except when he -is playing. He used to take all his troubles there to think them over. -The queer part of it is he left a great many of them there, though he -didn’t seem to know it. If Tommy ever could have seen in one pile all -the troubles he had left at that old gray stone, I am afraid that he -would have called it the trouble-stone instead of the wishing-stone. - -It was only lately that he had begun to call it the wishing-stone. -Several times when he had been sitting on it, he had wished foolish -wishes and they had come true. At least, it seemed as if they had come -true. They had come as true as he ever wanted them to. He was thinking -something of this kind now as he stood idly kicking at the old stone. - -Presently he stopped kicking at it, and, from force of habit, sat down -on it. It was a bright, sunshiny day, one of those warm days that -sometimes happen right in the middle of winter, as if the weather-man -had somehow got mixed and slipped a spring day into the wrong place in -the calendar. - -From where he sat, Tommy could look over to the Green Forest, which -was green now only where the pine-trees and the hemlock-trees and the -spruce-trees grew. All the rest was bare and brown, save that the -ground was white with snow. He could look across the white meadow-land -to the Old Pasture, where in places the brush was so thick that, in -summer, he sometimes had to hunt to find the cows. Now, even from this -distance, he could trace the windings of the cow-paths, each a ribbon -of spotless white. It puzzled him at first. He scowled at them. - -“When the whole thing is covered with snow, it ought to be harder to -see those paths, but instead of that it is easier,” he muttered. “It -isn’t reasonable!” He scowled harder than ever, but the scowl wasn’t -an unpleasant one. You know there is a difference in scowls. Some are -black and heavy, like ugly thunder-heads, and from them flashes of -anger are likely to dart any minute, just as the lightning darts out -from the thunder-heads. Others are like the big fleecy clouds that hide -the sun for a minute or two, and make it seem all the brighter by their -passing. - -There are scowls of anger and scowls of perplexity. It was a scowl of -the latter kind that wrinkled Tommy’s forehead now. He was trying to -understand something that seemed to him quite beyond common sense. - -“It isn’t reasonable!” he repeated. “I ought not to be able to see ’em -at all. But I do. They stick out like----” - -No one will ever know just what they stuck out like, for Tommy never -finished that sentence. The scowl cleared and his freckled face fairly -beamed. He had made a discovery all by himself, and he felt all the -joy of a discoverer. Perhaps you will think it wasn’t much, but it was -really important, so far as it concerned Tommy, because it proved that -Tommy was learning to use his eyes and to understand what he saw. He -had reasoned the thing out, and when anybody does that, it is always -important. - -“Why, how simple!” exclaimed Tommy. “Of course I can see those old -paths! It would be funny if I couldn’t. The bushes break through the -snow on all sides, but where the paths are, there is nothing to break -through, and so they are perfectly smooth and stand right out. Queer I -never noticed that before. Hello! what’s that?” - -His sharp eyes had caught sight of a little spot of red up in the Old -Pasture. It was moving, and, as he watched it, it gradually took shape. -It was Reddy Fox, trotting along one of those little white paths. -Apparently, Reddy was going to keep an engagement somewhere, for he -trotted along quite as if he were bound for some particular place and -had no time to waste. - -“He’s headed this way, and, if I keep still, perhaps he’ll come -close,” thought Tommy. - -So he sat as still as if he were part of the old wishing-stone itself. -Reddy Fox came straight on. At the edge of the Old Pasture he stopped -for a minute and looked across to the Green Forest, as if to make sure -that it was perfectly safe to cross the Green Meadows. Evidently he -thought it was, for he resumed his steady trot. If he kept on the way -he was headed he would pass very near to the wishing-stone and to Tommy. - -Just as he was half-way across the meadows, Chanticleer, Tommy’s -prize Plymouth Rock rooster, crowed over in the farmyard. Instantly -Reddy stopped with one black paw uplifted and turned his head in the -direction of the sound. Tommy could imagine the hungry look in that -sharp, crafty face. But Reddy was far too wise to think of going up to -the farmyard in broad daylight, and in a moment resumed his journey. - -Nearer and nearer he came, until he was passing not thirty feet away. -How handsome he was! His beautiful red coat looked as if the coldest -wind never could get through it. His great plume of a tail, black -toward the end and just tipped with white, was held high to keep it out -of the snow. His black stockings, white vest, and black-tipped ears -gave him a wonderfully fine appearance. Quite a dandy is Reddy Fox, and -he looked it. - -He was almost past when Tommy squeaked like a mouse. Like a flash -Reddy turned, his sharp ears cocked forward, his yellow eyes agleam -with hunger. There he stood, as motionless as Tommy himself, eagerness -written in every line of his face. It was very clear that, no matter -how important his business in the Green Forest was, he didn’t intend -knowingly to pass anything so delicious as a meadow-mouse. Again Tommy -squeaked. Instantly Reddy took several steps toward him, looking and -listening intently. A look of doubt crept into his eager face. That -old gray stone didn’t look just as he remembered it. For a long minute -he stared straight at Tommy. Then a puff of wind fluttered the bottom -of Tommy’s coat, and perhaps at the same time it carried to Reddy that -dreaded man smell. - -Reddy almost turned a back-somersault in his hurry to get away. Then -he ran. How he did run! In almost no time at all he had reached the -Green Forest and vanished from Tommy’s sight. Quite without knowing it -Tommy sighed. “My, how handsome he is!” You know Tommy is freckle-faced -and rather homely. “And gee, how he can run!” he added admiringly. “It -must be fun to be able to run like that. It might be fun to be a fox -anyhow. I wonder what it feels like. I wish I were a fox.” - -[Illustration: THEN HE RAN. HOW HE DID RUN!] - -If he had remembered where he was, perhaps Tommy would have thought -twice before wishing. But he had forgotten. Forgetting was one of -Tommy’s besetting sins. Hardly had the words left his mouth when Tommy -found that he _was_ a fox, red-coated, black-stockinged--the very -image of Reddy himself. - -And with that change in himself everything else had changed. It was -summer. The Green Meadows and the Green Forest were very beautiful. -Even the Old Pasture was beautiful. But Tommy had no eyes for beauty. -All that beauty meant nothing to him save that now there was plenty to -eat and no great trouble to get it. Everywhere the birds were singing, -but if Tommy heeded at all, it was only to wish that some of the sweet -songsters would come down on the ground where he could catch them. - -Those songs made him hungry. He knew of nothing he liked better, next -to fat meadow-mice, than birds. That reminded him that some of them -nest on the ground, Mrs. Grouse for instance. He had little hope that -he could catch her, for it seemed as if she had eyes in the back of her -head; but she should have a family by this time, and if he could find -those youngsters--the very thought made his mouth water, and he started -for the Green Forest. - -Once there, he visited one place after another where he thought he -might find Mrs. Grouse. He was almost ready to give up and go back to -the Green Meadows to hunt for meadow-mice when a sudden rustling in the -dead leaves made him stop short and strain his ears. There was a faint -“_kwitt_,” and then all was still. Tommy took three or four steps and -then--could he believe his eyes?--there was Mrs. Grouse fluttering on -the ground just in front of him! One wing dragged as if broken. - -Tommy made a quick spring and then another. Somehow Mrs. Grouse just -managed to get out of his way. But she couldn’t fly. She couldn’t run -as she usually did. It was only luck that she had managed to evade -him. Very stealthily he approached her as she lay fluttering among the -leaves. Then, gathering himself for a long jump, he sprang. - -Once more he missed her, by a mere matter of inches it seemed. The same -thing happened again and still again. It was maddening to have such -a good dinner so near and yet not be able to get it. Then something -happened that made Tommy feel so foolish that he wanted to sneak away. -With a roar of wings Mrs. Grouse sailed up over the tree-tops and out -of sight! - -“Huh! Haven’t you learned that trick yet?” said a voice. - -Tommy turned. There was Reddy Fox grinning at him. “What trick?” he -demanded. - -“Why, that old Grouse was just fooling you!” replied Reddy. “There was -nothing the matter with her. She was just pretending. She had a whole -family of young ones hidden close by the place where you first saw her. -My, but you are easy!” - -“Let’s go right back there!” cried Tommy. - -“No use. Not the least bit,” declared Reddy. “It’s too late. Let’s go -over on the meadows and hunt for mice.” - -Together they trotted over to the Green Meadows. All through the grass -were private little paths made by the mice. The grass hung over them so -that they were more like tunnels than paths. Reddy crouched down by one -which smelled very strong of mouse. Tommy crouched down by another. - -Presently there was the faint sound of tiny feet running. The grass -moved ever so little over the small path Reddy was watching. Suddenly -he sprang, and his two black paws came down together on something that -gave a pitiful squeak. Reddy had caught a mouse without even seeing it. -He had known just where to jump by the movement of the grass. Presently -Tommy caught one the same way. Then, because they knew that the mice -right around there were frightened, they moved on to another part of -the meadows. - -“I know where there are some young woodchucks,” said Tommy, who had -unsuccessfully tried for one of them that very morning. - -“Where?” demanded Reddy. - -“Over by that old tree on the edge of the meadow,” replied Tommy. “It -isn’t the least bit of use to try for them. They don’t go far enough -away from their hole, and their mother keeps watch all the time. There -she is now.” - -Sure enough, there sat old Mrs. Chuck, looking, at that distance, for -all the world like a stake driven in the ground. - -“Come on,” said Reddy. “We’ll have one of those chucks.” - -But instead of going toward the woodchuck home, Reddy turned in quite -the opposite direction. Tommy didn’t know what to make of it, but he -said nothing, and trotted along behind. When they were where Reddy knew -that Mrs. Chuck could no longer see them, he stopped. - -“There’s no hurry,” said he. “There seems to be plenty of grasshoppers -here, and we may as well catch a few. When Mrs. Chuck has forgotten all -about us, we’ll go over there.” - -Tommy grinned to himself. “If he thinks we are going to get over there -without being seen, he’s got something to learn,” thought Tommy. But -he said nothing, and, for lack of anything better to do, he caught -grasshoppers. After a while, Reddy said he guessed it was about time to -go chuck-hunting. - -“You go straight over there,” said he. “When you get near, Mrs. Chuck -will send all the youngsters down into their hole and then she will -follow, only she’ll stay where she can peep out and watch you. Go -right up to the hole so that she will go down out of sight, and then -wait there until I come. I’ll hide right back of that tree, and then -you go off as if you had given up trying to catch any of them. Go hunt -meadow-mice far enough away so that she won’t be afraid. I’ll do the -rest.” - -Tommy didn’t quite see through the plan, but he did as he was told. As -he drew near Mrs. Chuck, she did just as Reddy said she would--sent her -youngsters down underground. Then, as he drew nearer, she followed them. - -Tommy kept on right up to her doorstep. The smell of those chucks -was maddening. He was tempted to try to dig them out, only somehow he -just felt that it would be of no use. He was still half minded to try, -however, when Reddy came trotting up and flattened himself in the long -grass behind the trunk of the tree. - -Tommy knew then that it was time for him to do the rest of his part. -He turned his back on the woodchuck home, and trotted off across the -meadow. He hadn’t gone far when, looking back, he saw Mrs. Chuck -sitting up very straight and still on her doorstep, watching him. Not -once did she take her eyes from him. Tommy kept on, and presently -began to hunt for meadow-mice. But he kept one eye on Mrs. Chuck, and -presently he saw her look this way and that, as if to make sure that -all was well. Then she must have told her children that they could come -out to play once more, for out they came. By this time Tommy was so -excited that he almost forgot that he was supposed to be hunting mice. - -Presently he saw a red flash from behind the old tree. There was a -frightened scurry of little chucks and old Mrs. Chuck dove into her -hole. Reddy barked joyfully. Tommy hurried to join him. Reddy had been -quite as successful as he had boasted he would be, and was grinning. - -“Didn’t I tell you we’d have chuck for dinner?” said Reddy. “What one -can’t do, two can.” - -After that, Tommy and Reddy often hunted together, and Reddy taught -Tommy many things. So the summer passed with plenty to eat and nothing -to worry about. Not once had he known that terrible fear--the fear of -being hunted--which is so large a part of the lives of Danny Meadow -Mouse and Peter Rabbit, and even Chatterer the Red Squirrel. - -Instead of being afraid, he was feared. He was the hunter instead of -the hunted. Day and night, for he was abroad at night quite as much as -by day, he went where he pleased and did as he pleased, and was happy, -for there was nothing to worry him. Having plenty to eat, he kept away -from the homes of men. He had been warned that there was danger there. - -At last the weather grew cold. There were no more grasshoppers. There -were no more foolish young rabbits or woodchucks or grouse, for those -who had escaped had grown up and were wise and smart. Every day it grew -harder to get enough to eat. The cold weather made him hungrier than -ever, and now he had little time for sun-naps or idle play. He had to -spend most of the time that he was awake hunting. He never knew where -the next meal was coming from, as did thrifty Striped Chipmunk, and -Happy Jack Squirrel, and Danny Meadow Mouse. - -It was hunt, hunt, hunt, and a meal only when his wits were sharper -than the wits of those he hunted. He knew now what real hunger was. -He knew what it was most of the time. So when, late one afternoon, he -surprised a fat hen who had strayed away from the flock behind the barn -of a lonely farm, he thought that never had he tasted anything more -delicious. Thereafter he visited chicken-houses and stole many fat -pullets. To him they were no more than the wild birds he hunted, only -more foolish and so easily caught. - -And then one morning after a successful raid on a poultry-house, he -heard for the first time the voices of dogs on his trail. He, the -hunter, was being hunted. At first it didn’t bother him at all. He -would run away and leave them far behind. So he ran, and when their -voices were faint and far away, he lay down to rest. - -But presently he grew uneasy. Those voices were drawing nearer. Those -dogs were following his every twist and turn with their noses in his -tracks, just as he had so often followed a rabbit. For hours he ran, -and still those dogs followed. He was almost ready to drop when he -chanced to run along in a tiny brook, and, after he left that, he heard -no more of the dogs that day. So he learned that running water broke -his trail. - -The next day the dogs found his trail again, and, as he ran from -them through a swamp, there was a sudden flash and a dreadful noise. -Something stung him sharply on the shoulder. As he looked back, he -caught a glimpse of a man with something in his hands that looked like -a stick with smoke coming from the end of it. That night, as he lay -licking his wounds, he knew that now he, who had known no fear, would -never again be free from it--the fear of man. - -Little by little he learned how to fool and outwit the dogs. He learned -that water destroyed his scent. He learned that dry sand did not hold -it. He learned to run along stone walls and then jump far out into the -field and so break his trail. He learned that, if he dashed through -a flock of sheep, the foolish animals would rush around in aimless -fright, and their feet would stamp out his trail. These and many other -sharp tricks he learned, so that after a while he had no fear of the -dogs. But his fear of man grew greater rather than less, and was with -him at all times. - -So all through the fall he hunted and was hunted. Then came the snow, -the beautiful white snow. All day it fell, and when at night the moon -came out, the earth was covered with a wonderful white carpet. Through -the Green Forest and over the meadows Tommy hunted. One lone shivering -little wood-mouse he dug out of a moldering old stump, but this was -only a bite. He visited one hen-house after another, only to find each -without so much as a loose board by means of which he might get in. It -was dreadful to be so hungry. - -As if this were not enough, the breaking of the day brought the sound -of dogs on his trail. “I’ll fool them in short order,” thought he. - -Alas! Running in the snow was a very different matter from running on -the bare ground. One trick after another he tried, the very best he -knew, the ones which never had failed before; but all in vain. Wherever -he stepped he left a footprint plain to see. Though he might fool the -noses of the dogs, he could not fool the eyes of their masters. - -Now one thing he had long ago learned, and this was never to seek his -underground den unless he must, for then the dogs and the hunters would -know where he lived. So now Tommy ran and ran, hoping to fool the dogs, -but not able to. At last he realized this, and started for his den. He -felt that he had to. Running in the snow was hard work. His legs ached -with weariness. His great plume of a tail, of which he was so proud, -was a burden now. It had become wet with the snow and so heavy that it -hampered and tired him. - -A great fear, a terrible fear, filled Tommy’s heart. Would he be able -to reach that snug den in time? He was panting hard for breath, and -his legs moved slower and slower. The voices of the dogs seemed to be -in his very ears. Glancing back over his shoulder, he could see them -gaining with every jump, the fierce joy of the hunt and the lust of -killing in their eyes. He knew now the feeling, the terror and dreadful -hopelessness of the meadow-mice and rabbits he had so often run down. -Just ahead was a great gray rock. From it he would make one last long -jump in an effort to break the trail. In his fear he quite forgot that -he was in plain sight now, and that his effort would be useless. - -Up on the rock he leaped wearily, and--Tommy rubbed his eyes. Then -he pinched himself to make quite sure that he was really himself. He -shivered, for he was in a cold sweat--the sweat of fear. Before him -stretched the snow-covered meadows, and away over beyond was the Old -Pasture with the cow-paths showing like white ribbons. Half-way across -the meadows, running toward him with their noses to the ground and -making the echoes ring with the joy of the hunt, were two hounds. A -dark figure moving on the edge of the Old Pasture caught his eyes and -held them. It was a hunter. Reddy Fox, handsome, crafty Reddy, into -whose hungry yellow eyes he had looked so short a time before, would -soon be running for his life. - -Hastily Tommy jumped to his feet and hurried over to the trail Reddy -had made as he ran for the Green Forest. With eager feet he kicked the -snow over those telltale tracks for a little way. He waited for those -eager hounds, and when they reached the place where he had broken the -trail, he drove them away. They and the hunter might pick up the trail -again in the Green Forest, but at least Reddy would have time to get a -long start of them and a good chance of getting away altogether. - -Then he went back to the wishing-stone and looked down at it -thoughtfully. “And I actually wished I could be a fox!” he exclaimed. -“My, but I’m glad I’m not! I guess Reddy has trouble enough without me -making him any more. He may kill a lot of innocent little creatures, -but he has to live, and it’s no more than men do.” (He was thinking of -the chicken dinner he would have that day.) “I’m going straight over -to the Old Pasture and take up that trap I set yesterday. I guess a -boy’s troubles don’t amount to much after all. I’m more glad than ever -that I’m a boy, and--and--well, if Reddy Fox is smart enough to get -one of my chickens now and then, he’s welcome. It must be awful to be -hungry all the time.” - - - - -CHAPTER TWO TOMMY BECOMES A FURRY ENGINEER - - -Paddy the Beaver lives in the Great Woods far from the dwelling-place -of man. Often and often had Tommy wished that Paddy lived in the Green -Forest near his home that he might make his acquaintance; for he had -read many wonderful things about Paddy, and they were hard to believe. - -“If I could see ’em for myself, just _see_ ’em with my own eyes I could -believe; but so many things are written that are not true that a feller -doesn’t know what to believe and what not to. A feller ought to _see_ -things to _know_ that they are so,” said Tommy, as he strolled down -towards the big gray stone that overlooked the Green Meadows. - -“’Course it’s easy enough to believe that beavers build houses. -Muskrats do that. I know all about muskrats, and I s’pose a beaver’s -house is about the same thing as a muskrat’s, only bigger and better; -but how any animal can cut down a big tree, or build a dam, or dig a -regular canal is more than I can understand without seeing for myself. -I wish----” - -Tommy didn’t finish his wish. I suspect he was going to wish that he -could go into the Great Woods and hunt for Paddy the Beaver. But he -didn’t finish his wish, because just then a new thought popped into his -head. You know how it is with thoughts. They just pop out from nowhere -in the queerest way. It was so now with Tommy. He suddenly thought -of the wishing-stone, the great gray stone just ahead of him, and he -wondered, if he should sit down on it, if he could wish himself into -a beaver. Always before, when he had wished himself into an animal or -a bird, it was one of those with which he was familiar and had seen. -This case was different. There were no beavers anywhere near where -Tommy lived, and so he was a little doubtful. If he could wish himself -into a beaver, why, he could wish himself into anything--a lion, or -an elephant, or anything else--and learn about _all_ the animals, no -matter where they lived! - -“Gee!” exclaimed Tommy, and there was a queer little catch in his -breath, because, you know, it was such a big idea. He stood still and -slowly rubbed the bare toes of one foot up and down the other bare -brown leg. “Gee!” he exclaimed again, and stared very hard at the -wishing-stone. “’Twon’t do any harm to try it, anyway,” he added. - -So he walked over to the wishing-stone and sat down. With his chin -in his hands and his elbows on his knees he stared over at the Green -Forest and tried to imagine that it was the Great Woods, where the only -human beings ever seen were hunters, or trappers, or lumbermen, and -where bears, and deer, and moose, and wolves lived, and where beavers -built their homes, and made their ponds, and lived their lives far from -the homes of men. As he stared, the Green Forest seemed to change to -the Great Woods. “I wish,” said he, slowly and dreamily, “I wish that I -were a beaver.” - -He was no longer sitting on the wishing-stone. He was a young beaver -with a waterproof fur coat, a broad flat tail and great chisel-like -teeth in the front of his jaws, his tools. His home was in the heart of -the Great Woods, where a broad, shallow brook sparkled and dimpled, and -the sun, breaking through the tree-tops, kissed its ripples. In places -it flowed swiftly, dancing and singing over stones and pebbles. Again -it lingered in deep dark cool holes where the trout lay. Farther on, it -loafed lazily through wild meadows where the deer delighted to come. -But where Tommy was, it rested in little ponds, quiet, peaceful, in a -dreamy stillness, where the very spirit of peace and happiness and -contentment seemed to brood. - -On one side of one of these little ponds was the house, a great house -of sticks bound together with mud and turf, the house in which Tommy -lived with others of his family. It was quite the finest beaver-house -in all that region. But Tommy didn’t think anything about that. It was -summer now, the season of play, of having a good time without thought -of work. It was the season of visiting and of exploration. In company -with some of his relatives he made long journeys up and down the brook, -and even across to other brooks on some of which were other beaver -colonies and on some of which were no signs that beavers ever had -worked there. - -But when summer began to wane, Tommy found that life was not all a -lazy holiday and that he was expected to work. The home settlement was -rather crowded. There was danger that the food supply would not be -sufficient for so many hungry beavers. - -So it was decided to establish a new settlement on one of the brooks -which they had visited in their summer journey, and Tommy was one of -a little company which, under the leadership of a wise old beaver, -started forth on a still night to found the new colony. He led the way -straight to one of the brooks on the banks of which grew many aspen -trees, for you must know that the favorite food of beavers is the -bark of aspens and poplars. It was very clear that this wise old -leader had taken note during the summer of those trees and of the brook -itself, for the very night of their arrival he chose a certain place in -the brook and announced that there they would build their dam. - -“Isn’t it a great deal of work to build a dam?” asked Tommy, who knew -nothing about dam-building, the dam at his old home having been built -long before his time. - -[Illustration: “ISN’T IT A GREAT DEAL OF WORK TO BUILD A DAM?”] - -“It is. Yes, indeed, it certainly is,” replied an old beaver. “You’ll -find it so before we get this dam built.” - -“Then what’s the use of building it?” asked Tommy. “I don’t see the use -of a dam here anyway. There are places where the banks are steep enough -and the water deep enough for splendid holes in which to live. Then -all we’ve got to do is to go cut a tree when we are hungry. I’m sure I, -for one, would much rather swim around and have a good time.” - -The other looked at him out of eyes that twinkled, and yet in a way -to make Tommy feel uncomfortable. “You are young,” said he, “and the -prattle of young tongues is heedless. What would you do for food in -winter when the brook is frozen? The young think only of to-day and the -good times of to-day, and forget to prepare for the future. When you -have learned to work, you will find that there is in life no pleasure -so great as the pleasure of work well done. Now suppose you let us see -what those teeth of yours are good for, and help cut these alders and -haul them over to the place where the dam is to be.” - -Tommy had no reply ready, and so he set to work cutting young alders -and willows as the rest were doing. These were floated or dragged down -to the place chosen for the dam, where the water was very shallow, and -were laid side by side with the big ends pointing up stream. Turf, and -stones, and mud were piled on the brushy ends to keep them in place. So -the foundations of the dam were laid from bank to bank. Then more poles -were laid on top and more turf and mud. Short sticks were wedged in -between and helped to hold the long sticks in place. Tommy grew tired -of working, but no one else stopped and he was ashamed to. - -One of his companions cut a big poplar and others helped him trim -off the branches. This was for food; and when the branches and trunk -had been stripped of bark, they were floated down to the new dam and -worked into it, the trunk being cut into lengths which could be managed -easily. Thus nothing went to waste. - -So all through the stilly night they worked, and, when the day broke, -they sought the deep water and certain holes under the banks wherein to -rest. But before he left the dam, the wise old leader examined the work -all over to make sure that it was right. - -When the first shadows crept forth late the next afternoon, the old -leader was the first back on the work. One by one the others joined -him, and another night of labor had begun. Some cut trees and -saplings, some hauled them to the dam, and some dug up turf and mud and -piled it on the dam. There was no talking. Everybody was too busy to -talk. - -[Illustration: SOME CUT TREES AND SAPLINGS, SOME HAULED THEM TO THE DAM] - -Most of Tommy’s companions had helped build dams before and knew just -what to do. Tommy asked no questions, but did as the others did. Slowly -the dam grew higher, and Tommy noticed that the brook was spreading -out into a pool; for the water came down faster than it could work -its way through that pile of poles and brush. Twigs, and leaves, and -grass floated down from the places higher up where the beavers were at -work, and, when these reached the dam, they were carried in amongst the -sticks by the water and lodged there, helping to fill up the holes and -hold the water back. - -As night after night the dam grew higher and the pool behind it grew -broader and deeper, Tommy began to take pride in his work. He no longer -thought of play but was as eager as the others to complete the dam. The -stars looked down from the soft sky and twinkled as they saw the busy -workers. - -At last the dam was completed, for the time being at least. Very -thoroughly the wise old leader went all over it, inspecting it from end -to end; and when he was satisfied, he led his band to one side of the -little pond formed by the dam, and there he chose a site for the house -wherein they would spend the winter. - -First a platform of sticks, and mud, and turf was built until it was -a few inches above the water. Then began the raising of the walls, -a mass of brush and turf until the walls were three feet thick and -so solid that Jack Frost would find it quite useless to try to get -inside. The roof was in the shape of a rough dome and at the top was -comparatively thin; here little or no mud was used, so that there were -tiny air-holes, for, like all other warm-blooded animals, a beaver must -breathe. - -Within, was a comfortable room of which the platform was the floor. -From this, two burrows, or tunnels, led down on the deep-water side, -one of these being on a gradual incline, that food sticks might the -easier be dragged in. The entrances to both were at the very bottom of -the pond, where there would be no danger of them being closed by ice -when the pond should freeze in winter. These were the only entrances, -so that no foe could reach them unless he were able to swim under -water, and there were no such swimmers whom they had cause to fear. - -When the house was finished, Tommy thought that their labors would -be at an end; and he was almost sorry, for he had learned to love -work. But no sooner was the house completed than all the beavers went -lumbering. Yes, sir, that is just what they did. They went lumbering -just as men do, only they cut the trees for food instead of for boards. - -They began at the edge of a little grove of aspens to which the pond -now nearly extended. Sitting on his haunches with his broad tail for -a seat or a prop, as his fancy pleased, each little woodsman grasped -the tree with his hands and bit into the trunk, a bite above and a -bite below, and then with his teeth pried out the chip between the two -bites, exactly as a man with an ax would cut. It was slow hard work -cutting out a chip at a time in this way, but sooner or later the tree -would begin to sway. A bite or two more, and it would begin to topple -over. - -Then the little workman would thud the ground sharply with his tail to -warn his neighbors to get out of the way, and he himself would scamper -to a place of safety while the tree came crashing down. Tommy dearly -loved to see and hear those trees come crashing to the ground. - -No sooner was a tree down than they trimmed off the branches and cut -the trunk into short lengths. These logs they rolled into the water, -where, with the larger branches, they were floated out to deep water -close by the house and there sunk to the bottom. What for? Tommy didn’t -have to be told. This was the beginning of their food-pile for the -winter. - -So the days slipped away and the great food-pile grew in the pond. With -such busy workers it did not take long to cut all the trees close by -the pond. The farther away from the water they got, the greater the -labor of dragging and rolling the logs, and also the greater danger -from lurking enemies. In the water they felt wholly safe, but on land -they had to be always on the watch for wolves, and bears, and lynxes. - -When they had reached the limit of safety, the wise old leader called a -halt to tree cutting and set them all to digging. And what do you think -it was they were digging? Why, a canal! It was easier and safer to lead -the water from the pond to the place where the trees grew than to get -the logs over land to the pond. So they dug a ditch, or canal, about -two and a half feet wide and a foot and a half deep, piling the mud up -on the banks, until at last it reached the place where they could cut -the trees, and roll the logs into the canal, and so float them out to -the pond. Then the cutting began again. - -Tommy was happy. Never had he been more happy. There was something -wonderfully satisfying in just looking at the results of their labor -and in feeling that he had had a part in it all. Yet his life was not -all labor without excitement. Indeed, it was far from it. Had Tommy -the Beaver been able to remember what as Tommy the Boy he had read, he -would have felt that he was just like those hardy pioneers who built -their homes in the wilderness. - -Always, in that great still wilderness, death with padded feet and -cruel teeth and hungry eyes sought to steal upon the beavers. So always -as they worked, especially when on the land, they were prepared to rush -for safety at the first warning. Never for a minute did they cease to -keep guard, testing every breath of air with wonderfully sensitive -noses, and listening with hardly less wonderful ears. On nose and ears -the safety of a beaver almost wholly depends, his eyes being rather -weak. - -Once Tommy stopped in his labor of cutting a big tree so that he might -rest for a minute or two. On the very edge of the little clearing they -had made, the moonlight fell on an old weather-gray log. Tommy stared -at it a moment, then resumed his work. A few minutes later he chanced -to look at it again. Somehow it seemed nearer than before. He stared -long and hard, but it lay as motionless as a log should. Once more he -resumed his work, but hardly had he done so when there was the warning -thud of a neighbor’s tail. Instantly Tommy scrambled for the water; -and even as he did so, he caught a glimpse of that gray old log coming -to life and leaping toward him. The instant he reached the water, he -dived. - -“What was it?” he whispered tremulously when, in the safety of the -house, he touched noses with one of his neighbors. - -“Tufty the Lynx,” was the reply. “I smelled him and gave the warning. I -guess it was lucky for you that I did.” - -“I guess it was,” returned Tommy, with a shiver. - -Another time, a huge black form sprang from the blacker shadows and -caught one of the workers. It was a bear. Sometimes there would be -three or four alarms in a night. So Tommy learned that the harvesting -of the food supply was the most dangerous labor of all, for it took him -farthest from the safety of the water. - -At last this work was completed, and Tommy wondered if now they were -to rest and idle away their time. But he did not have to wonder long. -The old leader was not yet content, but must have the pond deepened all -along the foot of the dam and around the entrances to the house. So now -they once more turned to digging, this time under water, bringing the -mud up to put on the dam or the house, some working on one and some on -the other. - -The nights grew crisp and there was a hint of frost. It was then that -they turned all their attention to the house, plastering it all over -with mud save at the very top, where the air-holes were. So thick did -they lay it on that only here and there did the end of a stick project. -Then came a night which made a thin sheet of ice over the pond and -froze the mud-plaster of the house. The cold increased. The ice grew -thicker and the walls of the house so hard that not even the powerful -claws of a bear could tear them open. It was for this that that last -coating of mud had been put on. - -The nights of labor were over at last. There was nothing to do now but -sleep on the soft beds of grass or of thin splinters of wood, for some -had preferred to make beds of this latter material. For exercise they -swam in the quiet waters under the ice. When they were hungry, they -slipped down through the water tunnel and out into the pond, swam to -the food-pile, got a stick, and took it back to the house, where they -gnawed the bark off in comfort and at their ease, afterward carrying -the bare stick down to the dam for use in making repairs. - -Once they discovered that the water was rapidly lowering. This meant a -break in the dam. A trapper had cut a hole in it and cunningly placed -a trap there. But the wise old leader knew all about traps, and the -breach was repaired without harm to any one. Sometimes a lynx or a wolf -would come across the ice and prowl around the house, sniffing hungrily -as the smell of beaver came out through the tiny air-holes in the roof. -But the thick walls were like rock, and Tommy and his companions never -even knew of these hungry prowlers. Peace, safety, and contentment -reigned under the ice of the beaver-pond. - -But at last there came a day when a great noise reverberated under -the ice. They knew not what it meant and lay shivering with fear. A -long time they lay even after it had ceased. Then one of the boldest -went for a stick from the food-pile. He did not return. Another went -and he did not return. Finally Tommy went, for he was hungry. When he -reached the food-pile, he found that it had been fenced in with stout -poles driven down into the mud through holes cut in the ice. It was the -cutting of these holes that had made the dreadful noise, though Tommy -didn’t know it. - -Around the food-pile he swam until at last he found an opening between -the poles of the fence. He hesitated. Then because he was very hungry, -he entered. Hardly was he inside when another pole was thrust down -through a hole behind him, and he was a prisoner under the ice inside -that hateful fence. - -Now a beaver must have air, and there was no air there and no way of -getting any. Up above on the ice an Indian squatted. He knew just what -was happening down below and he grinned. Beside him lay the two beavers -who had preceded Tommy, drowned. Now Tommy was drowning. His lungs felt -as if they would burst. Dully he realized that this was the end. As -long as he could, he held his breath and then--Tommy came to himself -with a frightened jump. - -He was sitting on the old wishing-stone, and before him stretched the -Green Meadows, joyous with happy life. He wasn’t a beaver at all, but -he knew that he had been a beaver, that he had lived the life of Paddy -the Beaver. He could remember every detail of it, and he shuddered as -he thought of those last dreadful minutes at the food-pile when he -had felt himself drowning helplessly. Then the wonder of what he had -learned grew upon him. - -“Why,” he exclaimed, “a beaver is an engineer, a lumberman, a dredger, -a builder, and a mason! He’s wonderful. He’s the most wonderful animal -in all the world!” His face clouded. “Why can’t people leave him -alone?” he exploded. “A man that will trap and kill one of those little -chaps is worse than a lynx or a wolf. Yes, sir, that’s what he is! -Those creatures kill to eat, but man kills just for the few dollars -Paddy’s fur coat will bring. When I grow up, I’m going to do something -to stop trapping and killing. Yes, sir, that’s what I’m going to do!” - -Tommy got up and stretched. Then he started for home, and there was -a thoughtful look on his freckled face. “Gee!” he exclaimed, “I’ve -learned a pile this time. I didn’t know there was so much pleasure in -just work before. I guess I won’t complain any more over what I have -to do. I--I’m mighty glad I was a beaver for a little while, just for -that.” - -And then, whistling, Tommy headed straight for the wood-pile and his -ax. He had work to do, and he was glad of it. - - - - -CHAPTER THREE WHY TOMMY TOOK UP ALL HIS TRAPS - - -If there was one thing that Tommy enjoyed above another, it was -trapping. There were several reasons why he enjoyed it. In the first -place, it took him out of doors with something definite to do. He loved -the meadows and the woods and the pastures, and all the beauties of -them with which Old Mother Nature is so lavish. - -He loved to tramp along the Laughing Brook and around the Smiling -Pool. Always, no matter what the time of the year, there was something -interesting to see. Now it was a flower new to him, or a bird that he -had not seen before. Again it was a fleeting glimpse of one of the -shy, fleet-footed little people who wear coats of fur. He liked these -best of all because they were the hardest to surprise and study in -their home life. And that was one reason why he enjoyed trapping so -much. It was matching his wits against their wits. And one other reason -was the money which he got for the pelts. - -So Tommy was glad when the late fall came and it was time to set traps -and every morning make his rounds to see what he had caught. In the -coldest part of the winter, when the snow was deep and the ice was -thick, he stopped trapping, but he began again with the beginning of -spring when the Laughing Brook was once more set free and the Smiling -Pool no longer locked in icy fetters. It was then that the muskrats -and the minks became most active, and their fur coats were still at -their best. You see the more active they were, the more likely they -were to step into one of his traps. - -On this particular afternoon, after school, Tommy had come down to -the Smiling Pool to set a few extra traps for muskrats. The trapping -season, that is the season when the fur was still at its best, or -“prime,” as the fur dealers call it, would soon be at an end. He had -set a trap on an old log which lay partly in and partly out of the -water. He knew that the muskrats used this old log to sun themselves -because one had plunged off it as he came up. So he set a trap just -under water on the end of the old log where the first muskrat who -tried to climb out there would step in it. - -“I’ll get one here, as sure as shooting,” said Tommy. - -Then he found a little grassy tussock, and he knew by the matted-down -grass that it was a favorite resting place for muskrats. Here he set -another trap and left some slices of carrot as bait. - -By the merest accident, he found a hole in the bank and, from the look -of it, he felt sure that it had been made by one of the furry little -animals he wanted to catch. Right at the very entrance he set another -trap, and artfully covered it with water-soaked leaves from the bottom -of the Smiling Pool so that it could not be seen. - -“I’d like to see anything go in or out of that hole without getting -caught,” said he, with an air of being mightily tickled with himself -and his own smartness. - -So he went on until he had set all his traps, and all the time he was -very happy. Spring had come, and it is everybody’s right to be happy in -the spring. He heard the joyous notes of the first birds who had come -on the lagging heels of winter from the warm southland, and they made -him want to sing, himself. Everything about him proclaimed new life and -the joy of living. He could feel it in the very air. It was good to be -alive. - -After the last trap had been put in place, he sat down on an old log -to rest for a few minutes and enjoy the scene. The Smiling Pool was -as smooth as polished glass. Presently, as Tommy sat there without -moving, two little silver lines, which met and formed a V, started -on the farther side of the Smiling Pool and came straight toward him. -Tommy knew what those silver lines were. They were the wake made by a -swimming muskrat. - -“My! I wish I’d brought my gun!” thought Tommy. “It’s queer how a -fellow always sees things when he hasn’t a gun, and never sees them -when he has.” - -He could perceive the little brown head very plainly now, and, as it -drew nearer, he could distinguish the outline of the body just under -the surface, and back of that the queer, rubbery, flattened tail set -edge-wise in the water and moving rapidly from side to side. - -“It’s a regular propeller,” thought Tommy, “and he certainly knows how -to use it. It sculls him right along. If he should lose that, he sure -would be up against it!” - -Tommy moved ever so little, so as to get a better view. Instantly -there was a sharp slap of the tail on the water, a plunge, and only a -ripple to show that a second before there had been a swimmer there. Two -other slaps and plunges sounded from distant parts of the Smiling Pool -and Tommy knew that he would see no more muskrats unless he sat very -still for a long time. Slowly he got to his feet, stretched, and then -started for home. All the way across the Green Meadows he kept thinking -of that little glimpse of muskrat life he had had, and for the first -time in his life he began to think that there might be something more -interesting about a muskrat than his fur coat. Always before, he had -thought of a muskrat as simply a rat, a big, overgrown cousin of the -pests that stole the grain in the hen-house, and against whom every -man’s hand is turned, as it should be. - -But somehow that little glimpse of Jerry Muskrat at home had awakened a -new interest. It struck him quite suddenly that it was a very wonderful -thing that an animal breathing air, just as he did himself, could be so -at home in the water and disappear so suddenly and completely. - -“It must be fine to be able to swim like that!” thought Tommy as he sat -down on the wishing-stone, and looked back across the Green Meadows -to the Smiling Pool. “I wonder what he does down there under water. -Now I think of it, I don’t know much about him except that he is the -only rat with a fur that is good for anything. If it wasn’t for that -fur coat of his, I don’t suppose anybody would bother him. What a -snap he would have then! I guess he has no end of fun in the summer, -with nothing to worry about and plenty to eat, and always cool and -comfortable no matter what the weather! - -“What gets me is how he spends the winter when everything is frozen. -He must be under the ice for weeks. I wonder if he sleeps the way the -woodchuck does. I suppose I can find out just by wishing, seeing that -I’m sitting right here on the old wishing-stone. It would be a funny -thing to do to wish myself into a rat. It doesn’t seem as if there -could be anything very interesting about the life of anything so -stupid-looking as a muskrat, and yet I’ve thought the same thing about -some other creatures and found I was wrong.” - -He gazed dreamily down toward the Smiling Pool, and, the longer he -looked, the more he wondered what it would be like to live there. At -last, almost without knowing it, he said the magic words. - -“I--I wish I were a muskrat!” he murmured. - -Tommy was in the Smiling Pool. He was little and fur-coated, with a -funny little flattened tail. And he really had two coats, the outer of -long hairs, a sort of water-proof, while the under coat was soft and -fine and meant to keep him warm. And, though he was swimming with only -his head out of water, he wasn’t wet at all. - -It was a beautiful summer evening, just at the hour of twilight, and -the Smiling Pool was very beautiful, the most beautiful place that -ever was. At least it seemed so to Tommy. In the bulrushes a few -little feathered folks were still twittering sleepily. Over on his big -green lily-pad Grandfather Frog was leading the frog chorus in a great -deep voice. From various places in the Smiling Pool came sharp little -squeaks and faint splashes. It was playtime for little muskrats and -visiting time for big muskrats. - -[Illustration: IT WAS PLAYTIME FOR THE LITTLE MUSKRATS] - -An odor of musk filled the air and was very pleasant to Tommy as he -sniffed and sniffed. He was playing hide-and-seek and tag with other -little muskrats of his own age, and not one of them had a care in all -the world. Far away, Hooty the Owl was sending forth his fierce -hunting call, but no one in the Smiling Pool took the least notice of -it. By and by it ceased. - -Tommy was chasing one of his playmates in and out among the bulrushes. -Twice they had been warned by a wise old muskrat not to go beyond the -line of bulrushes into the open water. But little folks are forgetful, -especially when playing. Tommy’s little playmate forgot. In the -excitement of getting away from Tommy he swam out where the first -little star was reflected in the Smiling Pool. A shadow passed over -Tommy and hardly had it passed when there was a sharp slap of something -striking the water. - -Tommy knew what it was. He knew that it was the tail of some watchful -old muskrat who had discovered danger, and that it meant “dive at -once.” Tommy dived. He didn’t wait to learn what the danger was, but -promptly filled his little lungs with air, plunged under water and swam -as far as he could. When he just had to come up for more air, he put -only his nose out and this in the darkest place he knew of among the -rushes. - -There he remained perfectly still. Down inside, his heart was thumping -with fear of he knew not what. There wasn’t a sound to be heard around -the Smiling Pool. It was as still as if there was no living thing -there. After what seemed like a long, long time, the deep voice of -Grandfather Frog boomed out, and then the squeak of the old muskrat who -had given the alarm told all within hearing that all was safe again. -At once, all fear left Tommy and he swam to find his playmates. - -“What was it?” he asked one of them. - -“Hooty, the Owl,” was the reply. “Didn’t you see him?” - -“I saw a shadow,” replied Tommy. - -“That was Hooty. I wonder if he caught anybody,” returned the other. - -Tommy didn’t say anything, but he thought of the playmate who forgot -and swam out beyond the bulrushes, and, when he had hunted and hunted -and couldn’t find him, he knew that Hooty had not visited the Smiling -Pool for nothing. - -So Tommy learned the great lesson of never being careless and -forgetting. Later that same night, as he sat on a little muddy platform -on the edge of the water eating a delicious tender young lily-root, -there came that same warning slap of a tail on the water. Tommy didn’t -wait for even one more nibble, but plunged into the deepest water and -hid as before. This time when the signal that all was well was given -he learned that some one with sharper ears than his had heard the -footsteps of a fox on the shore and had given the warning just in the -nick of time. - -Four things Tommy learned that night. First, that, safe and beautiful -as it seems, the Smiling Pool is not free from dangers for little -muskrats; second, that forgetfulness means a short life; third, that to -dive at the instant a danger-signal is sounded and inquire later what -the danger was is the only sure way of being safe; and fourth, that it -is the duty of every muskrat who detects danger to warn every other -muskrat. - -Though he didn’t realize it then, this last was the most important -lesson of all. It was the great lesson that human beings have been -so long learning, and which many have not learned yet, that, just in -proportion as each one looks out for the welfare of his neighbors, he -is himself better off. Instead of having just one pair of little eyes -and one pair of keen little ears to guard him against danger Tommy had -many pairs of little eyes and little ears keeping guard all the time, -some of them better than his own. - -Eating, sleeping, and playing, and of course watching out for danger, -were all that Tommy had to think about through the long lazy summer, -and he grew and grew and grew until he was as big as the biggest -muskrats in the Smiling Pool, and could come and go as he pleased. - -There was less to fear now from Hooty the Owl, for Hooty prefers -tender young muskrats. He had learned all about the ways of Reddy Fox, -and feared him not at all. He had learned where the best lily-roots -grow, and how to find and open mussels, those clams which live in -fresh water. He had a favorite old log, half in the water, to which he -brought these to open them and eat them, and more than one fight did -he have before his neighbors learned to respect this as his. He had -explored all the shore of the Smiling Pool and knew every hole in the -banks. He had even been some distance up the Laughing Brook. Life was -very joyous. - -But, as summer began to wane, the days to grow shorter and the nights -longer, he discovered that playtime was over. At least, all his friends -and neighbors seemed to think so, for they were very, very busy. -Something inside told him that it was time, high time, that he also -went to work. Cold weather was coming and he must be prepared. For one -thing he must have a comfortable home, and the only way to get one was -to make one for himself. - -Of course this meant work, but somehow Tommy felt that he would feel -happier if he did work. He was tired of doing nothing in particular. In -his roamings about, he had seen many muskrat homes, some of them old -and deserted, and some of them visited while the owners were away. He -knew just what a first-class house should be like. It should be high -enough in the bank to be above water at all times, even during the -spring floods, and it should be reached by a passage the entrance to -which should at all times be under water, even in the driest season. - -On the bank of the Smiling Pool grew a tree, and the spreading roots -came down so that some of them were in the Smiling Pool itself. Under -them, Tommy made the entrance to his burrow. The roots hid it. At first -the digging was easy, for the earth was little more than mud; but, as -the passage slanted up, the digging became harder. Still he kept at -it. Two or three times he stopped and decided that he had gone far -enough, then changed his mind and kept on. At last he found a place -to suit him, and there he made a snug chamber not very far under the -grass-roots. - -When he had finished it, he was very proud of it. He told Jerry Muskrat -about it. “Have you more than one entrance to it?” asked Jerry. - -“No,” replied Tommy, “it was hard enough work to make that one.” - -Jerry turned up his nose. “That wouldn’t do for me,” he declared. “A -house with only one entrance is nothing but a trap. Supposing a fierce -old mink should find that doorway while you were inside; what would you -do then?” - -Tommy hadn’t thought of that. Once more he went to work, and made -another long tunnel leading up to that snug chamber; and then, perhaps -because he had got the habit, he made a third. From one of these -tunnels he even made a short branch with a carefully hidden opening -right out on the meadow, for Tommy liked to prowl around on land once -in a while. The chamber he lined with grass and old rushes until he had -a very comfortable bed. - -With all this hard work completed, you would have supposed that Tommy -would have been satisfied, wouldn’t you? But he wasn’t. He found that -some of his neighbors were building houses of a wholly different kind, -and right away he decided that he must have one too. So he chose a -place where the water was shallow, and not too far from the place where -the water-lilies grew; and there among the bulrushes he once more set -to work. - -This time he dug out the mud and the roots of the rushes, piling them -around him until he was in a sort of little well. From this he dug -several tunnels leading to the deep water where he could be sure that -the entrance never would be frozen over. The mud and sods he piled up -until they came above the water, and then he made a platform of rushes -and mud with an opening in the middle down into that well from which -his tunnels led. On this platform he built a great mound of rushes, and -grass, and even twigs, all wattled together. Some of them he had to -bring clear from the other side of the Smiling Pool. - -And, as he built that mound, he made a nice large room in the middle, -biting off all the ends of sticks and rushes which happened to be in -the way. When he had made that room to suit him, he made a comfortable -bed there, just as he had in the house in the bank. Then he built the -walls very thick, adding rushes and mud and sods all around except on -the very top. There he left the roof thinner, with little spaces for -the air to get in, for of course he must have fresh air to breathe. - -When at last the new house was finished, he was very proud of it. There -were two rooms, the upper one with its comfortable bed quite above the -water, and the lower one wholly under water, connected with the former -by a little doorway. The only way of getting into the house was by one -of his tunnels to the lower room. When all was done, an old muskrat -looked it over and told him that he had done very well for a young -fellow, which made Tommy feel very important. - -The weather was growing cool now, so Tommy laid up some supplies in -both houses and then spent his spare time calling on his neighbors. By -this time he had grown a fine thick coat and didn’t mind at all how -cold it grew. In fact he liked the cold weather. - -It was about this time that he had a dreadful experience. He climbed -out one evening on his favorite log to open and eat a mussel he had -found. There was a snap, and something caught him by the tail and -pinched dreadfully. He pulled with all his might, but the dreadful -thing wouldn’t let go. He turned and bit at it, but it was harder than -his teeth and gnaw as he would he could make no impression on it. - -A great terror filled his heart and he struggled and pulled, heedless -of the pain, until he was too tired to struggle longer. He just had -to lie still. After a while, when he had regained his strength, he -struggled again. This time he felt his tail give a little. A neighbor -swam over to see what all the fuss was about. - -“It’s a trap,” said he. “It’s lucky you are not caught by a foot -instead of by the tail. If you keep on pulling you may get free. I did -once.” - -This gave Tommy new hope and he struggled harder than ever. At last he -fell headlong into the water. The cruel steel jaws had not been able to -keep his tapered tail from slipping between them. He was free, but oh, -so frightened! - -After that Tommy grew wise. He never went ashore without first -examining the place for one of those dreadful traps, and he found -more than one. It got so that he gave up all his favorite places and -made new ones. Once he found one of his friends caught by a forefoot -and he was actually cutting his foot off with his sharp teeth. It was -dreadful, but it was the only way of saving his life. - -Those were sad and terrible times around the Smiling Pool and along -the Laughing Brook for the people in fur, but there didn’t seem to be -anything they could do about it except to everlastingly watch out. - -One morning Tommy awoke to find the Smiling Pool covered with ice. -He liked it. A sense of great peace fell on the Smiling Pool. There -was no more danger from traps except around certain spring holes, and -there was no need of going there. Much of the time Tommy slept in that -fine house of rushes and mud. Its walls had frozen solid and it was as -comfortable as could be imagined. A couple of friends who had no house -stayed with him. - -When they were hungry all they had to do was to drop down into the -tunnel leading to deep water and so out into the Smiling Pool under the -ice, dig up a lily-root and swim back and eat it in comfort inside the -house. If they got short of air while swimming under the ice they were -almost sure to find little air spaces under the edge of the banks. No -matter how bitter the cold or how wild the storm above the ice,--below -it was always calm and the temperature never changed. - -Sometimes Tommy went over to his house in the bank. Once, while he was -there, a bloodthirsty mink followed him. Tommy heard him coming and -escaped down one of the other passages. Then he was thankful indeed -that he had made more than one. But this was his only adventure all the -long winter. At last spring came, the ice disappeared and the water -rose in the Laughing Brook until it was above the banks, and in the -Smiling Pool until Tommy’s house was nearly under water. Then he moved -over to his house in the bank and was comfortable again. - -One day he swam over to his house of rushes and climbed up on the top. -He had no thought of danger there and he was heedless. Snap! A trap set -right on top of the house held him fast by one leg. A mist swam before -his eyes as he looked across the Green Meadows and heard the joyous -carol of Welcome Robin. Why, oh why, should there be such misery in the -midst of so much joy? He was trying to make up his mind to lose his -foot when, far up on the edge of the meadows, he saw an old gray rock. -Somehow the sight of it brought a vague sense of comfort to him. He -strained his eyes to see it better and--Tommy was just himself, rubbing -his eyes as he sat on the old wishing-stone. - -“--I was just going to cut my foot off. Ugh!” he shuddered. “Two or -three times I’ve found a foot in my traps, but I never realized before -what it really meant. Why, those little chaps had more nerve than I’ll -ever have!” - -He gazed thoughtfully down toward the Smiling Pool. Then suddenly he -sprang to his feet and began to run toward it. “It’s too late to take -all of ’em up to-night,” he muttered, “but I’ll take what I can, and -to-morrow morning I’ll take up the rest. I hope nothing will get caught -in ’em. I never knew before how dreadful it must be to be caught in a -trap. I’ll never set another trap as long as I live, so there! - -“Why, Jerry Muskrat is almost as wonderful as Paddy the Beaver, and he -doesn’t do anything a bit of harm. I didn’t know he was so interesting. -He hasn’t as many troubles as some, but he has enough, I guess, -without me adding to them. Say, that’s a great life he leads! If it -wasn’t for traps, it wouldn’t be half bad to be a muskrat. Of course -it’s better to be a boy, but I can tell you right now I’m going to be -a better boy--less thoughtless and cruel. Jerry Muskrat, you haven’t -anything more to fear from me, not a thing! I take off my hat to you -for a busy little worker, and for having more nerve than any _boy_ I -know.” - -And never again did Tommy set a trap for little wild folk. - - - - -CHAPTER FOUR TOMMY LEARNS WHAT IT IS LIKE TO BE A BEAR - - -Tommy’s thoughts were straying. Somehow they were straying most of the -time these days. They had been, ever since that day when he had wished -himself into a beaver. He dreamed of the Great Woods where rivers have -their beginnings in gurgling brooks, and great lakes reflect moss-gray -giants of the forest; where the beavers still ply their many trades -unharmed by man, the deer follow paths of their own making, the otters -make merry on their slippery-slides, the lynx pass through the dark -shadows, themselves but grayer shadows, and bears go fishing, gather -berries, and hunt the stored sweets of the bees. In short, the spell of -the Great Woods, the wilderness unmarred by the hand of man, was upon -Tommy. - -Eagerly he read all that he could find about the feathered and furred -folk who dwell there, and the longing to know more about them and their -ways, to learn these things for himself, grew and grew. He wanted to -hear things with his own ears and see things with his own eyes. - -Sometimes he went over to the Green Forest near his home and played -that it was the Great Woods and that he was a mighty hunter. Then Happy -Jack the Gray Squirrel became a fierce-eyed, tufted-eared, bob-tailed -lynx, saucy Chatterer the Red Squirrel became a crafty fisher, the -footprints of Reddy Fox grew in size to those of a wolf, Peter Rabbit -was transformed into his cousin of the north, Jumper the Hare, and a -certain old black stump was Buster Bear. - -But it was only once in a while that Tommy played the hunter. Somehow, -since he had learned so many things about the lives of the little -feathered and furred people about him, he cared less and less about -hunting them. So most often, when the Green Forest became the Great -Woods, he was Buster Bear. That was more fun than being a hunter, much -more fun. There was only one drawback--he didn’t know as much about -Buster Bear and his ways as he wished he did. - -So now, as he trudged along towards the pasture to drive home the cows -for the evening milking, his thoughts were straying to the Great Woods -and Buster Bear. As he came to the old wishing-stone he glanced up at -the sun. There was no need to hurry. He would have plenty of time to -sit down there a while. So down he sat on the big gray rock and his -thoughts went straying, straying deep into the Great Woods far from -cows and milking and the woodpile just beyond the kitchen door. Bears -never had to chop wood. - -“I wish,” said Tommy dreamily, “that I were a bear.” - -That was all, just a little spoken wish, but Tommy was no longer a -dreamy boy with evening chores yet to be done. He was a little black -furry animal, not unlike an overgrown puppy, following at the heels of -a great gaunt black bear. In short, Tommy was a bear himself. All about -him was the beautiful wilderness, the Great Woods of his boyish dreams. -Just behind him was another little bear, his twin sister, and the big -bear was their mother. - -Presently they came to an opening where there were no trees, but a -tangle of brush. Years before, fire had swept through there, though -Tommy knew nothing about that. In fact, Tommy knew little about -anything as yet save that it was good, oh, so good, to be alive. On -the edge of this opening Mother Bear paused and sat up on her haunches -while she sniffed the air. The two little bears did the same thing. -They didn’t know why, but they did it because Mother Bear did. Then -she dropped to all fours and told them to remain right where they were -until she called them. They watched her disappear in the brush and -waited impatiently. It seemed to them a very long time before they -heard her call and saw her head above the bushes as she sat up, but -really it was only a few minutes. Then they scampered to join her, each -trying to be first. - -When they reached her, such a glad sight as greeted them! All about -were little bushes loaded with berries that seemed to have stolen their -color from the sky. They were blueberries. With funny little squeals -and grunts they stripped the berries from the bushes and ate and ate -until they could eat no more. Then they wrestled with each other, and -stood up on their hind legs and boxed until they were out of breath -and glad to lie down for a rest while Mother Bear continued to stuff -herself with berries. - -It was very beautiful there in the Great Woods, and the two little -bears just bubbled over with high spirits. They played hide-and-seek -behind stumps and trees. They played tag. They chased each other up -tall trees. One would climb to the top of a tall stump, and the other -would follow and try to knock the first one off. - -Sometimes both would tumble down and land with a thump that would knock -the breath from their little bodies. The bumps would hurt sometimes and -make them squeal. This would bring Mother Bear in a hurry to see what -had happened; and when she would find that no harm had come to them, -she would growl a warning and sometimes spank them for giving her a -fright. - -But best of all they loved to wrestle and box, and, though they didn’t -know it, they were learning something. They were learning to be quick -in their movements. They were learning how to strike swiftly and how to -dodge quite as swiftly. Once in a while they would stand and not try to -dodge, but see who could stand the hardest blow. And once in a while, I -am sorry to say, they quarreled and fought. Then Mother Bear would take -a hand and cuff and spank them until they squalled. - -Very early they learned that Mother Bear was to be minded. Once she -sent them up a tree and told them to stay there until she returned. -Then she went off to investigate something which interested her. -When she returned, the two little cubs were nowhere to be seen. They -had grown tired of waiting for her to return and had come down to do -a little investigating of their own. It didn’t take her long to find -them. Oh, my, no! And when she did--well, all the neighbors knew that -two little cubs had disobeyed, and two little cubs were sure, very -sure, that they never would do so again. Tommy was one. - -At first, during those lovely summer days, Mother Bear never went far -from them. You see, when they were very small, there were dangers. Oh, -yes, there are dangers even for little bears. Tufty the Lynx would -have liked nothing better than a meal of tender young bear, and Howler -the Wolf would have rejoiced in an opportunity to snatch one of them -without the risk of an encounter with Mother Bear. - -But Tommy and his sister grew fast, very fast. You see, there were so -many good things to eat. Their mother dug for them the most delicious -roots, tearing them from the ground with her great claws. It wasn’t -long before they had learned to find them for themselves and to -dig them where the earth was soft enough. Then there were berries, -raspberries and blackberries and blueberries, all they wanted, to be -had for the gathering. And by way of variety there were occasional fish. - -Tommy as a boy was very fond of fishing. As a bear he was quite as fond -of it. On his first fishing-trip he got a wetting, a spanking, and no -fish. It happened this way: Mother Bear had led them one moonlight -night to a brook they never had visited before. Up the brook she led -them until they reached a place where it was broad and shallow, the -water gurgling and rippling over the stones and singing merrily. They -were left in the brush on the edge of the brook where they could see -and were warned to keep still and watch. Then Mother Bear stationed -herself at a point where the water was just a wee bit deeper than -elsewhere and ran a wee bit faster, for it had cut a little channel -there. For a long time she sat motionless, a big black spot in the -moonlight, which might have been a stump to eyes which had not seen her -go there. - -Tommy wondered what it all meant. For a long time, at least it was -a long time to Tommy, nothing happened. The brook gurgled and sang -and Mother Bear sat as still as the very rocks. Tommy began to get -impatient. He was bubbling over with high spirits and sitting still was -hard, very hard. - -Little by little he stole nearer to the water until he was on very edge -right behind Mother Bear. Then he caught a splash down the brook. He -looked in that direction but could see nothing. Then there was another -splash. He saw a silvery line and then made out a moving form. There -was something alive coming up the brook. He edged over a little farther -to see better. There it was, coming nearer and nearer. Though he didn’t -know it then, it was a big trout working its way up the brook to the -spring-holes higher up where the water was deep and cold. - -In the shallowest places the fish was sometimes half out of water. -It was making straight for the little channel where Mother Bear sat. -Nearer it came. Suddenly Mother Bear moved. Like lightning one of her -big paws struck down and under, scooping the trout out and sending it -flying towards the shore. - -Alas for Tommy! He was directly in the way. The fish hit him full in -the face, fell back in the water, wriggled and jumped frantically--and -was gone. Tommy was so startled that he gave a frightened little -whimper. And then a big black paw descended and sent him rolling -over and over in the water. Squalling lustily, wet, frightened and -miserable, Tommy scrambled to his feet and bolted for the shore where -he hid in the brush. - -“I didn’t mean to!” he kept whimpering as he watched Mother Bear return -to her fishing. Presently another trout came along and was sent flying -up on the shore. Then Tommy watched his obedient sister enjoy a feast -while he got not so much as a taste. - -After that they often went fishing on moonlight nights. Tommy had -learned his lesson and knew that fish were the reward of patience, and -it was not long before he was permitted to fish for himself. - -Sometimes they went frogging along the marshy shores of a little pond. -This was even more fun than fishing. It was great sport to locate a big -frog by the sound of his deep bass voice and then softly steal up -and cut a “chugarum” short, right in the middle. Then when he had eaten -his fill, it was just as much fun to keep on hunting them just to see -them plunge with long frightened leaps into the water. It tickled Tommy -immensely, and he would hunt them by the hour just for this. - -One day Mother Bear led them to an old dead tree half rotted away at -the bottom. While they sat and looked on in round-eyed wonder, she tore -at the rotten wood with her great claws. Almost at once the air about -her was full of insects humming angrily. Tommy drew nearer. A sharp -pain on the end of his nose made him jump and squeal. Another shooting -pain in one ear brought another squeal and he slapped at the side of -his head. One of those humming insects dropped at his feet. It must be -that it had had something to do with that pain. - -[Illustration: ANOTHER SHOOTING PAIN IN ONE EAR BROUGHT ANOTHER SQUEAL] - -Tommy beat a retreat into the brush. But Mother Bear kept on clawing -at the tree, growling and whining and stopping now and then to slap -at the insects about her. By and by the tree fell with a crash. It -partly split when it struck the ground. Then Mother Bear put her great -claws into the crack and tore the tree open, for you know she was very -strong. Tommy caught a whiff of something that made his mouth water. -Never in all his short life had he smelled anything so delicious. He -forgot all about the pain in his nose and his ear and came out of his -hiding-place. Mother Bear thrust a great paw into the tree and tore -out a piece of something yellow and dripping and tossed it in Tommy’s -direction. - -There were a lot of those insects crawling over it, but Tommy didn’t -mind. The smell of it told him that it must be the best thing that ever -was, better than berries, or fish, or frogs, or roots. And with the -first taste he knew that his nose had told the truth. It was honey! -It didn’t take Tommy a minute to gobble up honey, comb, bees and all. -Then, heedless of stings, he joined Mother Bear. What were a few stings -compared to such delicious sweets? So he learned that hollow trees are -sometimes of interest to bears. They ate and ate until Tommy’s little -stomach was swelled out like a little balloon. Then they rolled on the -ground to crush the bees clinging to their fur, after which Mother -Bear led them to a muddy place on the shore of a little pond, and the -cool mud took out the fire of the stings. Later, Tommy learned that not -all bee-trees could be pulled down in this way, but that sometimes they -must be climbed and ripped open with the claws of one paw while he held -on with the other and endured the stings of the bees as best he could. -But the honey was always worth all it cost to get. - -Next to feasting on honey Tommy enjoyed most a meal of ants, -particularly red ants; and this seems queer, because red ants are as -sour as honey is sweet. But it was so. Any kind of ants were easier to -find and to get than honey. The latter he had only once in a while, but -ants he had every day. He found them, thousands of them, under and in -rotting old logs and in decayed old stumps. He seldom passed an old log -without trying to roll it over. If he succeeded, he was almost sure -to find a frightened colony of ants rushing about frantically. A few -sweeps of his long tongue, a smacking of his lips and he moved on. - -Sometimes he found grubs of fat beetles, and these, though not so -good as the ants, were always acceptable on his bill of fare. And he -dearly loved to hunt wood-mice. It was almost as much fun as fishing or -frogging. - -So the long summer passed happily, and Tommy grew so fast that -presently he became aware that not even Tufty the Lynx willingly -crossed his path. He could go and come unafraid of any of the -wilderness dwellers and forgot what fear was until a never-forgotten -day in the early fall. - -He had followed Mother Bear to a certain place where late blueberries -still clung to the bushes. As she reached the edge of the opening, she -stopped short and lifted her nose, wrinkling the skin of it as she -tested the air. Tommy did the same. He had great faith in what his nose -could tell him. The wind brought to him now a strange smell unlike any -he had known, an unpleasant smell. Somehow, he didn’t know why, it gave -him a queer prickly feeling all over. - -He looked at Mother Bear. She was staring out into the blueberry patch, -and her lips were drawn back in an ugly way, showing her great teeth. -Tommy looked out in the berry-patch. There were two strange two-legged -creatures, gathering berries. They were not nearly as big as Mother -Bear and they didn’t look dangerous. He stared at them curiously. Then -he turned to look at Mother Bear. She was stealing away so silently -that not even a leaf rustled. She was afraid! - -Tommy followed her, taking care not to make the least sound. When -they were at a safe distance, he asked what it meant. “Those were -men,” growled Mother Bear deep down in her throat, “and that was the -man-smell. Whenever you smell that, steal away. Men are the only -creatures you have to fear; but whatever you do, keep away from them. -They are dangerous.” - -After that, Tommy continually tested the air for the dreaded man-smell. -Several times he caught it. Once from a safe hiding-place he watched -a fisherman and another time a party of campers, but he took care that -they should not suspect that he was near. By late fall he was so big -that he began to feel independent and to wander off by himself. Almost -every day he would stand up to a tree, reach as far up as he could, and -dig his claws into the bark to see how tall he was. - -With the falling of the beechnuts Tommy found a new and delicious food -and stuffed himself. These days he roamed far and wide and explored -all the country for miles around. He grew fat and, as the weather grew -colder, his coat grew thicker. He learned much about his neighbors and -their ways, and his sense of humor led him often to give them scares -just for the fun of seeing them jump and run. - -With the coming of the first snow a strange desire to sleep stole -over him. He found a great tree which had been torn up by the roots -in some wind storm and about which smaller trees had fallen, making a -great tangle. Under the upturned roots of the great tree was a hollow, -and into this he scraped leaves and the branches of young balsams -which he broke off. Thus he made a comfortable bed and with a sigh of -contentment lay down to sleep. - -The snow fell and drifted over his bedroom, but he knew nothing of -that. The cold winds, the bitter winds, swept through the wilderness, -and the trees cracked with the cold, but Tommy slept on. Days slipped -into weeks and weeks into months and still he slept. He would not -waken until gentle spring melted the snow unless-- - -“Moo-oo!” - -Tommy’s eyes flew wide open. For a full minute he stared blinkeringly -out over the Green Meadows. Then with a jump he came to his feet. “My -gracious, it’s getting late, and those cows are wondering what has -become of me!” he exclaimed. He hurried toward the pasture, breaking -into a run, for it was milking-time. But his thoughts were far away. -They were in the Great Woods. “I’ve been a bear!” he exclaimed -triumphantly, “and I know just how he lives and feels, and why he loves -the Great Woods so. Of all the creatures I’ve been since I found out -about the old wishing-stone, I’d rather be Buster Bear than any one, -next to being just what I am. He has more fun than any one I know of -and nothing and nobody to fear but man.” - -Tommy’s brow clouded for an instant. “It’s a shame,” he blurted out, -“that every living thing is afraid of man! And--and I guess it’s his -own fault. They needn’t ever be afraid of me. I can tell them that! -That old wishing-stone has taught me a lot, and I am never going to -forget how it feels to be hunted and afraid all the time.” - -And Tommy never has. - - - - - * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber’s note: - -Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are -mentioned. - -Punctuation has been made consistent. - -Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in -the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have -been corrected. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WISHING-STONE STORIES*** - - -******* This file should be named 63417-0.txt or 63417-0.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/3/4/1/63417 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |