diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/64586-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/64586-0.txt | 2081 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 2081 deletions
diff --git a/old/64586-0.txt b/old/64586-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 608547e..0000000 --- a/old/64586-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2081 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Jay Bird Who Went Tame, by John Breck - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Jay Bird Who Went Tame - -Author: John Breck - -Illustrator: William T. Andrews - -Release Date: February 17, 2021 [eBook #64586] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Roger Frank - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JAY BIRD WHO WENT TAME *** - - - - -THE JAY BIRD WHO WENT TAME - - - - -Told at Twilight Stories - -By JOHN BRECK - - MOSTLY ABOUT NIBBLE THE BUNNY - NIBBLE RABBIT MAKES MORE FRIENDS - THE SINS OF SILVERTIP THE FOX - TAD COON’S TRICKS - THE WAVY TAILED WARRIOR - TAD COON’S GREAT ADVENTURE - THE BAD LITTLE OWLS - THE JAY BIRD WHO WENT TAME - - - - -[Illustration: Louie Thomson and his tame Jay Bird.] - - - - -Told at Twilight Stories - -THE JAY BIRD WHO WENT TAME - -by - -John Breck - -Book VIII - -Illustrated by - -William T. Andrews - -Garden City New York - -Doubleday, Page & Company - -1923 - - - - -COPYRIGHT, 1923, BY -DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY - -ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF -TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, -INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN - -COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY THE ASSOCIATED NEWSPAPERS - -PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES -AT -THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y. - -First Edition - - - - -CONTENTS - - I. Chaik and Tad Make Themselves at Home - II. An Evening Party at the Thomson’s House - III. Chaik Makes Discoveries About the Holes Men Live In - IV. Dr. Muskrat’s Adventures in the Barn - V. Further Doings of the Woodsfolk at the Barn - VI. A Hungry Villain Fills Himself--But Only with Fright - VII. Killer the Weasel in a Weary Round of Troubles - VIII. Killer Finally Reaches Mouse-Heaven - IX. Mrs. Tabitha Puss-cat’s Secret - X. Many Things Thrashed Out - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - Louie Thomson and his tame Jay Bird - - Tad catches the rat that was killing the chickens - - Chaik begins to find out that living with house-folks is really - great fun - - Doctor Muskrat examines the White Cow’s drinking pond - - Doctor Muskrat makes friends with the ducks - - Killer wasn’t enjoying his visit to the Woods and Fields a bit - - Killer climbs the big hickory tree after Chatter Squirrel - - The Woodsfolk began bursting out of the straw pile, in and out and - up and down - - - - -The Jay Bird Who Went Tame - - - - -CHAPTER I--CHAIK AND TAD MAKE THEMSELVES AT HOME - - -Prob’ly you’re all wondering what happened to Chaik Jay and Tad Coon -when the big rain began to fall. Chaik had hurt his wing. He’d have had -a bad time with it if he’d tried to stay in the pickery thorn bush, in -the Quail’s Thicket, down by Dr. Muskrat’s Pond. Tad Coon knew a thing -or two when he advised the bird to let Louie Thomson catch him. Well, -when Louie burst into his mother’s kitchen with Chaik holding on tight -to his fat, warm finger he was ’most bursting with pride. You know just -how you’d feel if you were Louie. Chaik felt just a little fluttery, but -he knew he was safe so long as the little boy held him. He waved his -well wing and put up his crest, but he never let go his hold on the -funniest perch he’d ever sat on. - -Of course, Louie’s mother forgot all about the supper she was cooking. -“Oh, wherever did you catch him?” she asked. “Isn’t he a pretty thing? I -never knew they had purple on their necks--just like grapes hanging in -the sun. How do you s’pose he keeps all that white in his wings so -clean?” - -“He takes a bath every morning,” said Louie. “I’ve seen him.” - -Tad was out in the woodshed, by the pussycat’s dish, snubbing his shiny -black nose against the screen. He was sniffing the hot Johnnycake he -could smell baking in the oven. You know Louie promised him some--with -syrup on it, too. Pretty soon Chaik had his beak pointed at the stove; -he knew what Johnny cake was, because he’d had a taste of the piece -Louie brought to the pond. He was ’most as interested as Tad Coon. - -Then Louie’s mother smelled it. “Heavens!” she exclaimed. “I clean -forgot my oven!” She opened the door and took the Johnnycake out, hot -and steaming. Louie took a nice crusty corner, right away quick. Of -course Chaik thought that this was the signal for him, so he picked up a -crumb--and his eyes fairly popped because he wasn’t used to eating hot -things. Then didn’t she laugh! “The smart thing!” said she. “He’s just -like folks. But your pa’ll be here in a minute and he won’t think this -kitchen’s any place for birds--not if I know him. Quick, Louie! Put him -down cellar in the cage so the cats can’t get at him. Here’s enough for -him and the coon.” - -Down cellar they went, but Louie was careful to leave the door open so -Tad could run down and see him. And Chaik didn’t mind the cage so very -much. - -In fact, he was as comfortable as though he’d been at home. More -comfortable, maybe, because it was pretty scary sleeping in the woods -with Killer the Weasel sniffing about to find his hiding holes. Anyway, -he was too full and too sleepy to think about it. - -But Tad Coon wasn’t sleepy a bit. - -He licked the last crumb of Johnnycake, and the last drop of syrup -Louie had put on it, out of his whiskers, and was just cleaning the -stickiness off his little handy paws when he heard something that -pricked his ears straight up. “Huh! That’s a funny noise in the -henhouse,” he said to himself. “It isn’t Louie, and it isn’t his -father--I believe I’ll take a look.” So off he marched, stepping most -carefully in the hard middle of the path where the men walk so he -wouldn’t make his tracks plain for any one to follow. - -He thought about it because the evening was so dark he couldn’t see very -far ahead of him, but he could smell plain as plain. It was so fresh and -cool all his own fur wanted to puff out, but he wouldn’t let it; he -didn’t want anybody to get a smell of him. Snf, snf, snf! “What’s that -in the woodpile?” Over he jumped, so softly he didn’t make even the -scritch of a claw, then---- - -“Hey! If this happened to our quail folk out by the pond there would be -a fine goings on!” For it was the remains of a chicken. He craned his -neck to see who had put it there, but he couldn’t notice anything but -the feather smell. “That bird wasn’t killed to-night,” thought he. “That -was last night’s work. It wasn’t any owl. It wasn’t a cat--they’re -horrid, spitty creatures, but they don’t steal. Hist! I’ll know who it -was in about two whisks of a mouse’s tail--he’s doing it again!” - -Pit, pit, pit, he tiptoed over to the henhouse. All the birds were -shrieking and cackling. “Help! Murder-r! Thieves!” The ones on the -far-up back perches were squawking. “Spur him! Peck him!” But the ones -who were down in front were only fluttering hard to keep high off the -floor on their clumsy wings. - -Tad squinted through a crack. He could just make out a limp white heap -of feathers being dragged. He couldn’t see who was doing the dragging, -but--sniff! He went galloping around and around the house whining: “Where -did he get in; oh, wherever DID he get in?” - -[Illustration: Tad catches the rat that was killing the chickens.] - -For that thief was the biggest, oldest, grayest rat he’d ever seen, and -the wisest, too; he’d hunted right under the noses of Louie’s cats for -so long he had a whole lot more tricks than Tad had hairs in his -whiskers. But Tad played a brand-new one on him. Suddenly he stopped -right still. “What a cub I am!” he snickered to himself. “Old Sharptooth -will take that bird right back to the woodpile where he ate the other -one. That’s the place for me to wait for him.” In about three jumps he -was on top of it with his ears cocked, listening for the rat to come. - -He was listening so hard he didn’t pay any attention when the kitchen -door slammed. Louie’s father was going to take a last look at his barns -to make sure the big rain that was coming wouldn’t do any harm to them, -and Louie was with him to carry the lantern. He swung it as he walked -and the light set all the shadows dancing. Tad Coon didn’t pay any -attention to that, either; he’d learned all about it down by Doctor -Muskrat’s Pond. But the rat did. - -Pit-pat, pit-pat, swish. Tad could hear him coming, dragging his -chicken. In one lantern swing his eyes lit up like the headlights of a -little automobile, and he saw Tad’s ears, pointed right toward him. He -dropped his bird and jumped at the very same breath as Tad Coon. In the -next swing Louie Thomson’s father saw the white feathers lying on the -ground--and he saw the fluffy tail and frilly fur pantaloons of Tad Coon -diving down a big crown crock for a drain he was just going to dig. - -“Here!” he roared. “That’s who’s been----” He was going to finish -“killing our chickens,” and he was going to lay it to Tad Coon, but he -didn’t have time. The crocks were laid out across the yard, ready to put -in. The first three were so close together even a rat couldn’t squeeze -out between them. Louie’s father caught up a shovel and slapped it over -the open end of the third one. - -“We-e-ak, we-e-ak, snarl, snap, scuffle, scratch, wee-e-ee----!” What a -thumping and bumping was inside that crock! Then it was quiet. He moved -his shovel to peek in. He looked into the smiley face of Tad Coon, but -Tad’s smile had rat hanging down from either side. - -“Well, I swan!” exclaimed Louie Thomson’s father. He said some more -things like that; the words didn’t make much sense, because he didn’t -know exactly what he did mean. But you ought to have heard Louie -Thomson! “Hooray!” he squealed. “Hooray for my coon! That’s the rat we -saw stealing an egg out from under the hen who set in the grain room -last spring. It’s the very same one. You said he was too smart for the -cats and they’d never catch him. But my coon got him! He sure did!” - -“That’s some coon!” said his father at last. “Some coon! But how do you -know he doesn’t kill chickens, too?” - -“Because he’s friends with all the birds down by the pond,” Louie -insisted. “I’ve never seen him eat a single one. Not even my jay with -the hurt wing--I’m pretty sure he could have caught him just as easy as I -did.” - -“Your jay!” said his father. “Where do you keep him?” He thought he knew -everything there was on the farm. - -“Down cellar,” said Louie. He was just a little scared that maybe his -father would be angry if Chaik made a noise, because he had got so angry -when Tad Coon did. “He’ll be quiet--I know he will--but I couldn’t bear -to leave him out in the rain. The minute it stops I’ll let him go -again--truly I will.” - -“Hm! First thing I know I’ll have a menagerie instead of a farm,” was -all the man answered to that. “Give me the lantern. I’ll tend to locking -up the barns so the doors won’t blow off their hinges. You take a couple -of blocks from that woodpile and fix the cellar door so your coon isn’t -locked out. I guess it won’t rain in. And put some corn down there. The -mice are very bad again. He’s a mighty good beast to have around--that -is, if I don’t catch him after my chickens----” - -But Louie was gone to fix a fine place for Tad to hide from the storm. - - - - -CHAPTER II--AN EVENING PARTY AT THE THOMSONS’ HOUSE - - -Bang! Smash! Crash! Splash! The thunder roared and the lightning went -scuttling and dodging across the sky as though it wanted a place of its -own to hide and couldn’t find one. Chaik Jay woke up in the black dark -and looked around. For a minute he couldn’t think where he was. He could -hear the wind howling, but the stick he perched on didn’t move in it and -his feathers didn’t ruffle. He could hear the rain pounding and not a -single drop fell on him. He was perfectly comfortable, only he felt just -a little scared and lonely, though he was still too sleepy to think why. - -Pretty soon he heard a whistle. Then he knew just where he was. That was -Louie whistling to let Tad Coon know he had left some corn by the cellar -door for him. - -I tell you Chaik was glad to know Louie was right there, almost beside -him. He began to call and flutter his wings. “There, there, jay bird,” -said the little boy in his very nicest voice, “I won’t forget you. Are -you ready to eat again?” He rattled some seeds on the floor of Chaik’s -cage. But Chaik went on fluttering. It wasn’t food he wanted, it was -company. If he couldn’t have Tad Coon (Tad was still eating the rat) -then Louie’s nice warm finger was the next best thing. Louie didn’t -particularly like staying down there in the dark; it was nicer in the -bright, warm kitchen. Besides, now he’d told his father about Chaik Jay -he thought maybe he’d like to see the handsome bird. Maybe he’d make -friends like he did with Tad Coon. - -In about one minute Chaik was blinking in the light of the kitchen lamp. -It was really very much like the lantern Louie had for his feast down by -Doctor Muskrat’s pond, only there weren’t nearly so many beetles flying -around it. That was because the screen kept them out, but Chaik didn’t -know about screens. He had to leave Louie’s finger to catch that first -beetle. - -“I guess you couldn’t see to eat down there in the dark,” apologized the -thoughtful boy, so he sprinkled some food on the table. - -“Land o’ love, what’s that bird doing now?” Chaik looked up, but it was -just Louie’s mother talking, and he didn’t mind her a bit. He went right -on doing it. He wasn’t swallowing his corn whole. He was neatly turning -back its shiny jacket and picking the little sweet heart out of each -kernel. I tell you he was making a fine mess of that table--but who -cared? Not Louie or his mother; they thought he was too smart for -anything. - -[Illustration: Chaik begins to find out that living with house-folks -is really great fun.] - -Pick, peck, pick! Every once in a while he would give a shake of his -head and scatter his little pile of grain so he could see the ones he -hadn’t picked over yet. Louie and his mother were just giggling over his -antics; but he didn’t care. - -Puff! The kitchen door opened and let in a great gust of wind. It caught -Chaik from behind; it spread out his tail like a turkey-feather fan and -sent him skating and sliding because the table was covered with slippery -oilcloth, and his claws wouldn’t catch. But the door closed right away -and the wind was shut out again. Louie’s father had just come in. - -Chaik wasn’t scared--he was cross, he thought they’d played a joke on -him. He balanced himself on his feet and then he gave a big shake to -settle his feathers. He looked around very severely, as much as to say, -“Don’t you dare do that again. I won’t stand it!” Then he marched into a -little shady corner on the window sill, behind the curtain, and sulked. - -He sulked! That’s exactly what he was doing. But nobody paid any -attention to him at all--which is the right way to treat any one who does -such a foolish thing. Louie’s father sat down and opened up the evening -paper. It made a fine crackling. Louie’s mother stirred up some yeast -(it smelled like mushrooms) into the bread she was going to bake next -morning. Then she began flouring the raisins she was going to put in it. -Chaik began to get so interested in what was going on he forgot he was -sulking. - -First he peeked out from behind the curtain. Then he clawed his way -sidewise across to the plate where the raisins were. Pretty soon he made -a dive with his sharp beak; he did it so quickly she didn’t see what he -was up to. Fine! Chaik liked that raisin. But he didn’t like it quite so -dusty. He picked up another one, but he didn’t gulp it in such a hurry. -He bounced it on the table to shake the flour off it again. - -Louie started to laugh. “Shh!” whispered his mother. “Let’s see what -he’s going to do next.” And what do you think that was? He began storing -them away in his nice dark corner so he’d have some left for breakfast -in the morning. He tucked a whole row of them into the crack of the -window so neatly you could hardly see them. He began to find out that -living with house-folks is really great fun. - -All the time Chaik was hiding the raisins Louie and his mother were -’most bursting their buttons laughing at him. Louie’s father had picked -up the paper while Chaik was sulking. And he dozed off in his chair with -the paper in front of him all the time Chaik was stealing. - -When his wife thought Chaik had enough for two birds, she whisked the -plate away. He couldn’t think where it had gone to, because she did it -when his tail feathers were turned. So he had to look for something -else; he began trying experiments with the newspaper, pick, peck, -picking, to see if he couldn’t get a taste of those little black specks. -He didn’t know it was printing, of course; he thought those nice even -lines were cracks and the little black specks were very neatly tucked -in--so neatly it would be great fun to pick them out again. Pretty soon -he got excited and used his claws. The paper began tearing; that woke up -Mr. Thomson. - -Slam went the paper on the table; that sent Chaik fluttering, but in a -minute he was back at it again busier than ever. And when the big man -saw him he burst out laughing--and he didn’t laugh very often. He laughed -so hard Chaik scuttled back into his corner with his crest tucked down. - -But as soon as Mr. Thomson picked up his paper again Chaik began to cock -his head. “Eh?” he thought. “He’s hiding, too. He’s hiding from me!” -Wasn’t he just conceited? Out he sneaked. Pick, peck, pick--he tore off -the whole corner that time. Then he got his claws in it and danced -around like a cat on a sheet of flypaper. That man reached out his -finger, carefully as he could, and held it down so Chaik could untangle -his feet. - -Chaik misunderstood. “You needn’t be afraid,” said he in his politest -bird talk. “I won’t peck you.” - -Mr. Thomson misunderstood, too. He said: “The nerve of that bird! He -isn’t a bit afraid of me.” So of course from that very minute they began -to be friends--the first friend Louie’s father ever had among the -Woodsfolk. - -I don’t s’pose you could guess who had the most fun that evening. It -wasn’t Chaik--but he’d have insisted it was if any one had asked him. -Didn’t he just have a lovely time? He found all sorts of interesting -things. He rather wanted to hide some of them away so he could play with -them again, but there weren’t so many good places to hide them. Take -that little shiny cup for instance. It reminded him very much of an -acorn with the top gone. You know what that was--it was a thimble. “Too -bad it’s empty,” he sighed. “Now I wonder where house-folk keep their -acorns--they must have a hole for them.” No jay could go housekeeping -without one. But of course he couldn’t find it. - -He thought of burying his treasure in the earth beneath one of the -geraniums in a row of pots on the window sill. Just then he discovered -the coffee pot; Louie’s mother was measuring the coffee into it for the -morning, so its lid was open. Chaik was so pleased. He dropped his shiny -acorn right in. Snap! shut the top. It wouldn’t come out again. - -Didn’t he just make an awful fuss? He hopped all around it. He sat on -the handle and he tried to sit on the little round button on the lid, -but his feet kept slipping off. He tried to peek down the spout or to -reach his beak in. Finally he got so cross he gave the stubborn old -thing a peck. It made such a tinny sound he jumped away and perked up -his crest at it. He’d just about decided that was a lost acorn when -somebody got it out for him. - -Whoever do you think it was? It wasn’t Louie, and it wasn’t his mother ---it was Mr. Thomson! And it wasn’t just because he and Chaik had made -friends; it was because everything that foolish bird tried to do set the -big man laughing. And then Chaik would stop and look very hard at him as -though he thought Louie’s father were trying to talk to him, so of -course he had to pay attention. That’s manners in a boy or a bird. - -He let Chaik peck a lead pencil into splinters to see what he could -find, because that ignorant bird thought the lead was a worm-hole. He -let him peck the button out of a chair cushion, just because it was fun -to pull at. And when Chaik came tumbling off the table to pull at the -shiny tag on the end of his shoe lace--you’d have thought he really -believed he was being helped by that impudent bird. He grumbled a lot -more than Louie when Louie’s mother wound up the clock and made them all -go to bed. - - - - -CHAPTER III--CHAIK MAKES DISCOVERIES ABOUT THE HOLES MEN LIVE IN - - -I just tell you Chaik and Tad didn’t mind that rain. Tad Coon had a big, -dry cellar to hunt in and a fine supply of mice who came to nibble his -corn. Chaik Jay slept in his corner of the window sill in the kitchen -behind the curtain. It wasn’t quite so convenient as perching, for his -long claws got in his way, but he found the varnished back of a chair -too slippery; besides, he wanted to keep an eye on his raisins. Those -thieving mice once tried to steal them. He gave one of them a good peck; -it ran off squealing with one leg up, and after that they knew better -than to bother him. - -When Louie’s father came padding in and began putting on his shoes that -he had left under the stove to dry the night before he danced and -flapped good morning. And wasn’t the man just flattered to death to have -a wild bird out of the woods as friendly as that? - -When Chaik flapped he got more excited than ever. “My wing is well -again!” he squawked. “Yah! My wing is well again!” Then didn’t he have -some fun? He could fly over the stove and perch on the handle of the -teakettle while Mr. Thomson laid the fire for breakfast. - -But all the man said was, “You think you own this house, don’t you? -Well, I dunno but you’re about right, you sassy thing!” - -Chaik just answered, “Hey?” That’s all he said when Mr. Thomson opened -the door to go out and Chaik’s well wing brushed against his ear as he -slipped out beside him. “Now look what I’ve done,” said the man who -didn’t like Woodsfolk. “I s’pose that’s the last we’ll see of you.” And -he felt so lonesome as he watched Chaik go flitting off through the rain -that he remembered about bringing back something from the barn for Tad -Coon’s breakfast. He wanted Tad to stay. - -But he needn’t have worried about never seeing Chaik Jay again. Chaik -knew when he was well off. He just wanted to take a good flippity-flap -with his well wing to be sure it worked right, and he was ’most afraid -to try it in the house for fear he’d hit something with it. My, but it -was fun to fly up high and come sliding down the air again; it was fun -even if it was still raining. - -But he didn’t stay out in the rain long enough to get very wet. He went -over to the barn and poked around. He was a little scary at first about -going in the dark doorway, but after he’d been in there a little while -he just had to hunt up Tad Coon. Tad was so full of mice he was dozing -off to sleep in the cellar; he came out when he heard Chaik calling. - -“Oh, Tad!” Chaik exclaimed, bobbing his head and flirting his tail -because he was too excited to keep still even while he was talking. -“This is a wonderful place. That big barn where the cows live is -perfectly safe for birds. Those swallows have left their nests all over -it, and they’re such scary fellows they wouldn’t stay a minute if -anything happened to one of them. I found a robin’s nest, too, a mud -one, but it’s round, not flat on one side like a swallow’s, and it’s too -big for a phoebe bird--I sat in it to see. (Tad Coon grinned at that.) -Besides, it hasn’t any cocoons or moss in it.” - -“I thought you’d like the barn,” Tad nodded. “But where were you last -night? I couldn’t find you anywhere. And your supper is still in your -cage. Did you get anything to eat?” - -“Did I get anything to eat? Why, these house-folks have more things -stored away to eat than all the Jays in the Deep Woods put together. -That trap where they keep the corn doesn’t catch me. I can walk in and -out any time I want to. (He meant the corn crib; the slats wouldn’t hold -him any more than they would a mouse.) And I found a knothole into the -biggest pile of wheat you ever dreamed about. (That was the grain room, -of course.) And there’s dusty stuff the cows are eating (meal and bran), -and some little wrinkly sweet wild grapes I hid in a special place. I’ll -give you a taste.” (He meant his raisins in the kitchen window.) - -“I guess you had plenty to eat, all right enough,” remarked Tad, “but -you never told me where you slept.” - -“Hey?” chuckled Chaik with his most mischievous air, “I wouldn’t dare; -you wouldn’t believe me. I’ll just have to show you. Come along.” And he -flapped right up to the kitchen window. Then wasn’t he the puzzled bird? -He could see Louie’s mother moving around inside, getting the breakfast. -He could see the raisins poked into the crack. But he couldn’t get in -there to get them. He walked all the way up the screen, fluttering and -scratching. Pretty soon he perched on the sill and began to think it -over. - -“That’s the second time this has happened,” he said. “I hid a little -shiny hollow acorn last night, and then I couldn’t get it again. I knew -right where it was, too. Now I can see those little wrinkly grapes, -right where I put them, but I can’t get them either. It’s very queer.” - -“You mean you were in the house?” gasped Tad. “Right up inside it, with -the traps shut?” (He meant with the doors closed; he hadn’t learned all -the proper house names for things yet.) “But that wasn’t safe. What if -that big man wanted to hit you like he did me and Louie?” Tad didn’t -quite trust him yet. - -“He didn’t,” said Chaik. “He’s not a bit peckish, even if he does make -more noise than Watch the Dog when he barks.” (That was what Chaik -thought of Mr. Thomson’s laughing.) “Yeah! Hey!” he called suddenly -because he saw Louie. - -Louie looked up. He was feeling quite scared because he didn’t see -anything of his bird--not even a little pile of feathers to show that the -cats had caught him. “Why, however did you get there?” he asked, and he -ran to open the window and shove up the screen. - -In hopped Chaik. All his nice raisins had dropped out of the crack when -Louie opened the window for him, but he didn’t care. He just ate a few -himself and shoved a taste of them down to Tad. “That happened, too,” he -said thoughtfully as he gulped a raisin. “The minute I stopped worrying -about my acorn, one of the house-folks gave it to me. A house isn’t fixed -for birds. But it’s very interesting--and full of smells.” He turned his -beak toward the stove where Louie’s mother was frying bacon. - -“Mmn! Mmn! Lovely ones,” sniffed Tad, twitching his nose around until he -made such funny faces Louie began to giggle at him. He could smell that -bacon right through the window. - -Louie’s father came back from the barn carrying the milk pails all full -and frothing. He had more milk than usual that morning--he remembered -about that a long time afterward. He didn’t know it yet, but his luck -began to turn on that farm the very day he made friends with the -Woodsfolk. You’ll see. - -“Why didn’t you wake me up?” asked Louie in a very surprised voice. The -little boy could sleep right through all the racket of the alarm clock, -even if Chaik Jay couldn’t. His father almost always called him to help -with the milking. - -“Oh, I just guessed you might as well sleep,” said his father. “You can -feed the calf if you’ve a mind to.” He knew Louie liked to do that. It -isn’t nearly as hard work either. “I kind of wish I had, though,” the -big man went on. “I let your bird out. He was over in the barn this -morning. Maybe we could catch him again, but I don’t know. He was flying -pretty strong.” - -“Hey?” asked Chaik, before Louie could even answer. He half guessed they -would be talking about him--conceited thing! - -“That was all right,” said the little boy. “I let him in again. He came -back, just like my coon.” - -Louie’s father stared at Chaik, sitting on the window sill with the -window open behind him so he could go out and in. Then he peeked out and -saw Tad Coon down below with his nose all wiggling because he smelled -the bacon Louie’s mother was cooking. “Hm! Looks like we had company to -breakfast,” was all he said. - -But it wasn’t all he did. He gave Chaik some nice crisp bacon crumbs--he -insisted it was just to see if the bird really would eat them. And -Louie’s mother caught him right in the act of slipping a good slice out -to Tad Coon. “Here,” she laughed, “there’s no need for you to feed that -fellow. I’m frying up some cracklings for him and the cats.” She made a -delicious mixture of odds and ends of bacon and bread and such things. -But when Louie went to carry it out, the poor cats climbed up on the -shelf in the shed and spat and whined because they hadn’t made any -compact with any coon. So they said. Really it was because they were -afraid of him. - -Tad didn’t care. He wasn’t hungry, anyway. Only he liked the taste of -new things. He ate his share on the cellar steps. And the mice, who had -run away to hide because he was hunting them, all crept to the mouth of -the holes and sat there sniffing until their whiskers trembled. - -“I say,” thought Louie Thomson to himself as he started off to school, -“I just must talk with Tommy Peele. He knows about the wild things.” -Only Louie wasn’t thinking about a wild thing, but about his father who -used to be crosser than Tad Coon in a cage. - - - - -CHAPTER IV--DOCTOR MUSKRAT’S ADVENTURES IN THE BARN - - -You needn’t think, just because you’ve been hearing about Chaik Jay’s -foolishness, that he and Tad Coon had all the fun there was. Not a bit -of it. Things were happening round Tommy Peele’s barn at the very same -time. - -Of course Tommy Peele knew about most of them. And maybe you think he -wasn’t puzzled! The very first morning, while it was still raining, he -came sloshing down to the barn with his tall rubber boots on--because it -was so wet he needed them. And splash! went somebody into the trough -where the cattle drink. Of course it was Doctor Muskrat. He was just -examining it because it was the queerest kind of a pond he’d ever seen, -and he was a little bit scary because he didn’t feel at home yet. - -He swam all the way down it in about two paw-strokes, hunting for a lily -leaf to hide under while he peeked out to see who was coming. Of course -there wasn’t any lily leaf. There was no mud for one to grow in--because -Tommy kept the trough too clean. And there weren’t any snails, or water -beetles, or anything but just water, as fresh as the water out in the -cool, deep middle of his own pond. It was a great deal warmer, and it -had a queer, woody taste that came from the rain water dripping in from -the shingles of the barn. No wonder the wise old fellow was puzzled. - -The doctor climbed up on the edge of the trough and settled his fur for -a comfortable visit with his little boy friend. But he didn’t stay -there, for Tommy had already unlocked the gate and the cows came rushing -in, shouldering each other to get the first drink. The wise old muskrat -slipped between the trough and the barn to wait until they were gone -again. - -That was really sensible, because he’d done something to make the cows -angry with him--though he didn’t mean to. They began snorting and -puffing. “Ugh! What an awful smell!” mooed one of them. “Somebody’s been -bathing in our drink. I’d like to get my horn on whoever it was! I’d -teach him not to do a trick like that again!” - -“Mff-ff-ff!” sniffed the Red Cow--she was a big, happy-looking one by -now, not a bit like the wild, scary thing who ran away from Tommy in the -spring. “I like that smell. It reminds me of the kindest beast I ever -knew, excepting dear little Nibble Rabbit. It reminds me of wise old -Doctor Muskrat, who owns the pond at the end of the woods and fields.” -And she took a sentimental sip of it. - -[Illustration: Doctor Muskrat examines the White Cow’s drinking pond.] - -Doctor Muskrat was fearfully ruffled because the cows made all that fuss -over his dip into their drinking trough. He thought they were just -putting on airs. He put up his head between the trough and the barn, -where he knew they couldn’t hurt him. “Hoot-toot!” said he severely. -“What’s all this about a dive that didn’t wet my fur? Many’s the time -you’ve stepped into my pond. Did I ever snap a word at you?” - -“Yes, indeed!” put in the Red Cow. “Step in! I’ve seen you stamping -flies in it till you had it so muddy you couldn’t see your own hooves. -I’ll teach you to sniff at my friends!” She laid her horn into the cow -who did the first complaining with a shove that sent her staggering. -There might have been some lively argument if the wise White Cow hadn’t -stopped them. - -“Here, here!” she interrupted. “We didn’t know who we were sniffing at. -A sensible beast like Doctor Muskrat will understand there was no -offense meant.” She lowered her head respectfully and spoke in her -flutiest voice. “You’ll pardon me for explaining, sir, that this isn’t a -pond. The water doesn’t run through it. The wind doesn’t blow over it; -it goes stale as fast as a mud puddle.” - -“You don’t say!” exclaimed the doctor. “Forgive my mistake, madam. If -I’d seen the least trace of green scum, which is the usual sign of still -water, I wouldn’t have put my paw in it, I do assure you.” - -“Nor we our noses,” mooed the cow, still very politely. - -“To be sure! To be sure!” nodded Doctor Muskrat sagely. “A sour drink -makes sorry fur. But what’s to be done? And what will Tommy Peele think -of me?” He was more embarrassed than ever when the little boy came -squeezing in between the cows, as though he wanted a drink, too. - -But Tommy had just noticed the cows weren’t drinking. It didn’t take him -long to guess why, but he never thought of blaming his wild friend. -“Why, Doctor Muskrat!” he exclaimed, as glad as Bobby Robin when he sees -a worm, “whatever are you doing here?” And he knocked out the plug in -the bottom of the trough and let the spoiled water go whirling and -gurgling out through a hole. Doctor Muskrat’s eyes popped at that, I can -tell you, but when Tommy turned on the tap and let fresh water come -splashing in, the old fellow couldn’t understand it at all. He climbed -up to examine it; he tried the pipe with his chisel teeth, and he licked -the drops that splashed on his whiskers. - -“Well!” he gasped. “I’ve seen maple sap drip from a twig in the spring, -but this is no twig, and it’s no sap that’s dripping from it. What is -it?” - -But if Doctor Muskrat was excited about seeing the water run, you ought -to have seen him when Tommy turned it off again. He bit it and he licked -it and he squeezed it and he squinted up the hole, first with one eye, -and then with the other. At last he sat down to watch it, like Tad Coon -watches a mouse hole. He watched it till he got a crick in his neck, but -still he wouldn’t take his eye off it. He was going to know about it the -next time it began. He had an idea the rain was doing it--somehow or -other. He couldn’t imagine a puddle that wasn’t made by the rain. - -The stale water Tommy had let run out on the ground made a fine big -puddle for the raindrops to patter in. But by and by the pattering grew -into a splashing, and the splashing into a quacking. He just had to look -away to see what that noise was. Three big white ducks were playing in -it. “Quack!” one shouted. “I got a drowned earth worm!” - -“Quawk!” called back another. “I’ve got a grain of corn and a -daddy-longlegs!” - -The third was silent for a moment over his beakful. Then he spit it out -and said quite cheerfully: “I had a nice round pebble, but I guess it’s -too big to swallow. Flapper wins this time.” - -“Hooray!” shouted Flapper, standing up on his toes and beating the air -with his wings as though he were going to fly. But he didn’t. He just -settled down on his feet again, gave a shake of his tail and would have -waddled right off if he hadn’t caught sight of Doctor Muskrat’s shiny -black eyes staring at him. “Who’s that?” he asked in duck talk. And they -all stared at the brown, furry beast. - -“It’s Doctor Muskrat. Who are you, and whatever were you doing?” - -Didn’t those ducks just blink their yellow eyes when that brown, furry -beast answered them back in their own language? He’d learned it from the -mallards who visit his pond. - -“We’re the jolly old waddle ducks,” quacked the one they called Flapper. -“We’re playing a game of fish the puddle. Since you can talk duck talk -so well, you might as well come along and learn it. It’s lots of fun. -Come on!” - -“Come along,” teased another. “We’ll show you all the ponds--lots of -them are deep enough to swim in now. We’ll show you where the apples -have dropped in the orchard, and where the garden snails have hidden, -and the leak in the corn crib where the grains fall through----” - -“Quawk! There isn’t much about this place we don’t get a beak into. We -even pick over the pigs’ pail before they ever see it. Just now we got a -drink of the warm milk they feed the calf. Ho! but this is a fine place -to live!” laughed the third, his fat body shaking and the little curly -feathers sticking up so cheerfully in his tail. - -“Do you live here always?” asked Doctor Muskrat in surprise. “Don’t you -ever fly away?” All the ducks he knew flew south for the winter. - -“We’re not wild ducks,” Flapper explained. “We’re tame. We hear great -tales from the wild ones. Some of them stop in and have a feed with us -most every season. Great tales! That must be a gay life. But we’re so -fat we can’t keep up with them.” He sighed, but he blinked so -mischievously Doctor Muskrat could see he wasn’t breaking his heart -about it. - -“You’re just as well off,” said Doctor Muskrat. “White birds are so easy -to see somebody always catches them.” - -“Are you wild yourself?” they asked curiously. “Tell us what it’s like.” - -So Doctor Muskrat strolled along with them, and fine friends they were, -I can tell you, always happy and good-natured. They made the old doctor -feel almost as much at home as he did in his own pond. - -[Illustration: Doctor Muskrat makes friends with the ducks.] - - - - -CHAPTER V--FURTHER DOINGS OF THE WOODSFOLK AT THE BARN - - -If Tommy Peele wondered what Doctor Muskrat was doing up at the watering -trough just outside his barn door, he did a lot more wondering when he -stepped inside. For there, on top of the feed bin, with her fur all -puffed out and her tail as prickly as a caterpillar, perched the House -Cat. And beneath her, thumping very severely, with a fine wad of -pussycat fur in each of his hind toenails, sat Nibble Rabbit. - -The cat was whining: “Aw, please let me go! I didn’t mean to. Honest I -thought it was a rat!” - -Nibble gave his ears a big flop. “No, ma’am!” he was stating decidedly. -“You can’t fool me. A bunny doesn’t smell the least bit in the world -like any rat. You were trying to hunt my children. But you won’t mean to -next time. I know that. I only rolled you over, this time, just to show -you that a rabbit can fight. Next time----” - -“Next time,” squawked Chirp Sparrow, who had his first nest robbed by -that very same Tabby Tiptoes; “next time he’ll set you spinning three -ways at once until your brains are as addled as a frosted egg.” - -“Me-waur-r!” begged the poor pussy. “Please, Tommy Peele, let me out and -I’ll run back to the house. Truly I will.” - -“I hope these wild things will teach you some manners,” said Tommy -Peele. “Whatever Nibble did to you is nothing to what you’ll get if you -try your tricks on Doctor Muskrat.” He carried her away down past the -gate so she wouldn’t meet him. - -“Good Clover-leaves!” whispered Nibble in surprise, when he saw how -gently Tommy treated his enemy. “Do you s’pose he’ll be cross with me -for what I’ve done?” - -“Don’t flutter yourself,” Chirp assured him. “Tommy never takes sides -between his friends. Though why he’s friends with that cat, when he -knows the things she does, is more than I can tell you. You’ll have to -ask Watch the Dog about it.” - -Sure enough, when Tommy came back to the barn, he put out a handful of -feed for his rabbit, just as though there hadn’t been the least bit of -trouble. And his eyes didn’t open so very wide when Silk-ears and all -her bunnies began to pop out from under the mangers and inside the hay -and beneath the box he used for a milking-stool. And he didn’t have to -look at the dust on their whiskers to know they’d been dipping into the -cows’ breakfast. Some of the cows were telling him so. - -But it doesn’t take much to start some folks sniffing and moaning. A -nice clean bunny-paw never spoiled the Red Cow’s appetite. And the White -Cow gave Tommy a nudge while he was milking her that said plain as -words: “Isn’t it fun to have Nibble with us again?” - -Now Doctor Muskrat and Nibble Rabbit weren’t having any livelier time -than Stripes Skunk and his kittens were in the bottom of the haystack, -hunting the rats they found there. - -A rat is pretty dangerous for a skunk kitten to hunt--as dangerous as -though a small boy went hunting bobcats--but it’s the skunk kitten’s -business to take chances, and it isn’t the small boy’s. - -There aren’t very many rats in the woods; sometimes one goes sneaking -down the high grass beside a fence or snoops into a twiggy bush after -baby birds in nesting time; sometimes one picks up tadpoles when the -muddy ponds they hatched in begin to dry up; but mostly rats live very -close to men. (Why they do is a special secret I’ll tell you some winter -night.) So you see Stripes Skunk’s kittens hadn’t much chance to deal -with such big game. They were awfully proud and excited about it. - -It didn’t take the rats in the haystack very long to find it was a very -poor place to be. They can eat hay--if they have to--but they can’t live -on it like a fieldmouse can. They got hungry. But every time one -ventured its whiskers out of a hole, Stripes Skunk’s kittens would -pounce on it. It didn’t matter how creepy-crawly quiet they were--a -kitten was sure to hear them. At last the wisest of them thought of a -plan. - -“Greywhisker,” said he, “you take one hole, Brokentooth the next, -Scarfoot the next, and Eggeater the last. Each of you will scrabble -about inside his burrow as though he meant to run, the minute he is -quiet the one to the windy side of him must take his turn. That will -keep those striped beasts running round and round the stack. Every third -turn, run to the centre and all squeak as though you were fighting. That -will keep them interested. They won’t hear me make a brand-new hole, and -then we’ll plan how we can sneak out while they aren’t looking.” - -Now do you know what that rat (his name was Snatch) meant to do? He -meant to keep them all busy while he dug that new hole for himself -and then sneak out without telling them. That’s rat for you! They -cheat each other just as much as they do anybody else! But the others -couldn’t think of any better plan, so they trusted him. - -Only they made one mistake. The skunks weren’t running round and round -that haystack. They were sitting perfectly still, each one with his nose -at a hole. But one after another pricked up his ears as the rat -pretended to come out, and dropped them when he scuttled back again. -Wise old Papa Stripes was tiptoeing around finding all their trails so -if one did get by a kitten he’d know where it was likely to go. “Hm!” he -sniffed. “They’re playing a game, are they? We’ll just see who’s IT.” - -Scrabble! Scratch! Squeak! went Brokentooth, Scarfoot, and Eggeater, -each in turn. Each time the kitten stationed outside his hole pricked up -its ears, and its wavy tail would tremble to the tip, and its claws -would catch for a leap. Dig and gnaw, gnaw and dig, went the selfish -Snatch, the cleverest rat of them all, making himself a new hole to -sneak out through. They were helping him, but he wasn’t going to help -them--not he. - -Papa Stripes laid his head on one side and considered the case. Then a -sly smile raised his whiskers. Pit-pat, pit-pat, he marched round the -stack, whispering to each of his kittens in turn. “You see the slit in -the old elm tree?” he asked one. The kitten nodded. “Did you notice the -rat path under the chicken coop?” he asked the next. “Looks to me like a -rat hole under that corn crib, eh?” he asked the third. He didn’t give -any orders like “You do this,” or “You do that,” because he wanted the -kittens to think for themselves. But he did show them what to think -about. - -Nip, slip, came Snatch, creeping out of the new hole he’d just made for -himself. Pounce! Stripes closed it up behind him. “Now, rat,” he -chuckled, “let’s see you run! And let’s see who catches you!” - -“Wee-e-e-ak!” Snatch made for the slit in the elm. A kitten was there -before him. The chicken-coop, then? No! The corn crib! Was Tommy’s -barnyard all full of hunting skunks? A hole! A hole! He’d find one in -the barn--under the grain bin! He raced for the door, the kittens after -him, gaining at every bound, with their father ’most scared to death he -wouldn’t be on time to lend a tooth if they needed it. - -That’s how Snatch came to dive right between Tommy’s tall rubber boots -as he stepped out the barn door with a milkpail in his hand. That’s how -the skunk kittens came to flash past before the milk he slopped over -could fall on them. “My land!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?” -As though he couldn’t see for himself. - -They were all three scrimmaging with Snatch the Rat at the very mouth of -the rat hole. They never knew which of them killed him. - -“Ee-e-e-yow!” squealed Stripes, prancing in his pride. “Isn’t that some -hunting!” Then back they all romped to catch those poor hungry fellows -in the haystack who thought Snatch was taking a mighty long time to make -their new hole for them. - - - - -CHAPTER VI--A HUNGRY VILLAIN FILLS HIMSELF--BUT ONLY WITH FRIGHT - - -The most puzzled little boy you ever saw tramping off to school on a -rainy morning was certainly Tommy Peele. Unless it was Louie Thomson. -“Hey, Tommy,” he called, when he heard Tommy’s tall rubber boots -splashing along behind him, “I want to ask you something.” - -“Hey, yourself,” Tommy called back, “I want to ask you something, too. -What have you done to make my muskrat run away from his pond? And all my -skunks? And the rabbits? Huh? They’re all up at my barn!” - -Louie’s eyes grew big and round. “I didn’t do a thing. Cross my heart -didn’t--’cepting to feed them, like you showed me. The coon and the jay -bird are living up at mine.” - -“They are!” exclaimed Tommy. “Then I guess you didn’t do anything to -them.” - -“Do you s’pose they wanted to see what it was like to be tame--just like -I tried being wild?” Louie wondered. - -“N-n-no,” drawled Tommy thoughtfully. “My rabbit’s tried it before. But -he always goes wild again. I guess he likes it best.” - -“Now that fox is back by Doctor Muskrat’s pond--I’ll bet you anything!” - -The two boys wouldn’t have been so puzzled if they had known how the Bad -Little Owls had invited Killer the Weasel to Tommy’s Woods and Fields. -It was to avoid him that all the Woodsfolk had come to stay with the -boys for a while; indeed, they had even warned the obstinate mice to -leave, so that Killer and the Bad Little Owls would have to go hungry. - -Killer and the Bad Little Owls were hungry--Killer especially. He wasn’t -enjoying his visit to the Woods and Fields one bit. For it rained and it -rained, and it rained and it kept on raining. And nobody with fur can -hunt in the rain because the water washes away all the trails; you can’t -see where they come from or where they’re going to; you can’t even smell -them. - -It was way along in the afternoon before he poked out his wicked nose -and found the sun was out, too, and the leaves were dancing. But he -didn’t want to dance; his poor skin was doing it for him and he didn’t -like it a bit; he was shivering because he was empty as a drum and the -wind was thumping him. He crept down and tiptoed over to Doctor -Muskrat’s pond. He walked all around it, but he didn’t see a single -footprint. He didn’t even see a frog. By this time he was hungry enough -to eat one, but they were all buried down in the warm mud. The only -fellow he found was the Hop-toad. - -The Hop-toad was very happy. Most every leaf that blew down in the wind -had under it a fine fat angleworm who had come up to nibble a pleasant -change from the grass-blades they eat all summer. Besides, they were -simply loaded with bug cradles of every sort. - -As a result, the Hop-toad was so full he could hardly squeeze his fat -yellow vest into his own front door beneath his own big stone; so he -just sat and blinked his ruby eyes at Killer and grinned. Who else in -all the Woods and Fields would have dared to do that? - -“Hail, Sharptooth!” began the hop-toad in his deep scary croak that -rumbled like thunder in the back of his stony cave. “Have you come to -hear your fortune? You have come in time. There were signs and omens -brewing in the battle between the frost and the rain this morning.” - -Now the weasel didn’t know what an omen was--it’s a sort of bad news, -like the dark clouds that foretold the Big Rain and the Terrible Storm. -He doesn’t sit by the week like the Hop-toad does, just thinking and -remembering things. He hasn’t any more education than a pollywog, in -spite of all his experiences. All the same the weasel knew more than to -own up that he wanted to eat the Hop-toad. So he thought, “I’ll pretend -that’s just what I came for, to hear my fortune, and he’ll never guess.” - -“No one can follow a wet trail on a cloudy night so truly as the -Hop-toad,” Killer said. The Hop-toad never follows a trail at all. That -was only the silly weasel’s way of pretending he thought the Hop-toad -was smarter than he. - -Of course the Hop-toad knew Killer was just making it up. “Two can play -at that game,” he blinked to himself. “I’ll scare him away and then my -good friends will come back again.” Then he said out loud: “Oh, me, that -sounds just like my wise friend Silvertip the Fox. He used to say, ‘The -bones of yesterday lie where even the blind ants can find them, but the -bones of tomorrow--only the Hop-toad knows whose skins they run in.’ He -knew I could foretell what was coming. But he listened to the owls -instead of listening to me--see what happened to him!” - -“What did happen?” demanded Killer. You remember the Owl’s Wife lied to -him. She said Silvertip was hunting in the Big Marsh, the other side of -the Deep Woods! - -[Illustration: Killer wasn’t enjoying his visit to the Woods and Fields -a bit.] - -“He went where no ant ever gnawed his bones,” answered the wise hop-toad. -“That’s why no tooth hunts by Doctor Muskrat’s pond.” - -When the Hop-toad croaked these words in the dark cave under the big -stone, every little crack seemed to have a scary little echo hidden in -it to whisper them after him. Killer the Weasel shook to the tip ends of -his fur. - -“Is he dead?” asked the wicked thing in a husky voice. - -“Who knows?” said the Hop-toad. He knew, himself, but he didn’t want to -say so. “If he is, neither fur, scale, nor feather did the killing.” -That’s true. You know it was Grandpop Snappingturtle, and he isn’t a -beast or a fish or a bird. - -The weasel thought a minute. Then he remembered that Louie Thomson had -been living by the pond and those same lying little owls, who told him -Silvertip was still alive, said he couldn’t hurt any one. “Ho,” he said, -“I know! It was a man?” - -“Certainly not!” snapped the hop-toad as though he were cross over such a -foolish question. “How could those toothless, clawless man-tadpoles hurt -any one?” - -“Oh-h-h!” exclaimed Killer in a long shivery breath. “I know what you -mean. He’s a ghost Owl. Eh?” But the Hop-toad never answered a word. - -The beautiful Duck had told Nibble Rabbit, the day before the Terrible -Storm, that everything was afraid of something. Killer the Weasel was -afraid of two things--Silvertip the Fox and the Ghost Owl. - -Now the Ghost Owl is a real bird. It is a big white Owl who comes down -from far-away north where the storms grow. At night it hunts Killer, and -the minks and the bad skunks, and all the wicked folk who prowl around -trying to catch Mother Nature’s own children while they’re asleep. In -the daytime it goes off to some river and catches fish. Nobody knows -when or where it sleeps. - -Whenever a weasel disappears you can be pretty sure the fox or the owl -has caught him. So the weasel-folk got the two so mixed up in their -minds at last they decided they were the same. They thought the Ghost -Owl was a fox who turned into an owl because it was better hunting. If a -fox died and they saw his bones they knew that was the end of him. If he -just disappeared--well, they couldn’t be sure he did turn into an owl, -but they couldn’t be sure he didn’t. - -So Killer the Weasel thought if Silvertip just disappeared and the ants -didn’t gnaw his bones, as the Hop-toad said, Tommy Peele’s Woods and -Fields were no place for him. - -“Hop-toad,” he whined, “I know what you mean. You mean that Silvertip -isn’t dead at all. He’s hunting these Woods and Fields in a Ghost Owl’s -skin.” - -“What an idea!” croaked the hidden Hop-toad. “Who ever told you that?” - -“Aha! You needn’t pretend to me!” sniffed Killer. “We weasels know a lot -of things. We know that no real owl can stand the sunlight. The Ghost -Owl can. Many a mink has seen it diving for fish like a kingfisher in -the daytime. Many a weasel has felt its claws in his ribs in the dead of -night. Yet whose tooth has ever found its magic throat? Can you name me -one who has ever picked its bones? No! Nor will there ever be such a -one. For the Ghost Owl has no mate, it builds no nest, it hatches no -young. It is born in a fox’s skin until the magic shedding when feathers -instead of fur prick through its hide. It never dies. It lives on us -who are strongest, swiftest, cleverest of hunters--we Folk from -under-the-Earth whom Mother Nature herself cannot govern.” - -You just ought to have seen Croaker Hop-toad’s side shake at the idea. -He didn’t know a thing about the Ghost Owl, except that there was one, -but he knew more than to believe what Killer was telling him. It’s what -we call a “tall story” and the Woodsfolk a “tail-ruffler.” Only an -ignorant creature like the weasel could pretend it was true. He hadn’t -told Killer what really did kill Silvertip because he knew Killer would -be a lot more frightened at what he didn’t know than at what really did -happen. But he hadn’t dreamed of scaring him as hard as all this. It was -great fun. He wanted Killer to go on talking about it. So he said, “It’s -very good of you to explain all these things to me. I wouldn’t see them -for myself, living as I do under my stone. But if the Ghost Owl never -dies, what becomes of it?” - -“Ah,” said Killer. “Nobody knows but the crazy loon. But sometimes, when -there’s a fearful storm, you hear it squawking and its feathers come -fluttering down. They aren’t real feathers, you know; they’re only -frozen. That’s why it only comes in ice-time. So we think--Ssh! Who’s -coming?” - - - - -CHAPTER VII--KILLER THE WEASEL IN A WEARY ROUND OF TROUBLES - - -But Killer never finished. He’d scared himself ’most to death telling -about the Ghost Owl; so when he did hear a sound he made a frantic -scratching to squeeze into the crack in the Hop-toad’s stone, where he’d -been talking, and then he bounced off at full speed for his own safe -crack between the two stones on the bank of Doctor Muskrat’s pond. -“Ah-h-h!” he breathed. “Safe at last! Even the Ghost Owl’s claw cannot -find me here. Tooth cannot bite, and paw cannot dig to disturb me. If -only I weren’t so desperate, starvation hungry. I do wish I’d caught the -Hop-toad. I do wish I’d eaten those owls--but I’ll do it next summer when -it’s safe to hunt here. To-night I’ll go back to the Deep Woods and -stay--if I have to live on acorns.” - -As soon as the Hop-toad was perfectly sure Killer had gone, he hopped to -the narrow crack that was the door of his cave and squeezed out again. -He cocked his deaf ears and felt with his little gloved paws on the -ground. Then he began to laugh himself right out of his skin. “Ho, ho! -It’s only those harmless man-tadpoles.” That’s what Croaker Toad calls -Tommy Peele and Louie Thomson. - -Croaker could feel them tramping along the lane. Killer had heard them -whistling. They were calling Watch to help them find out who it was that -had chased Nibble Rabbit and Tad Coon and Stripes Skunk and Doctor -Muskrat, and all the rest of them out of Tommy’s Woods and Fields. Watch -was busy about something else, way far off, when he heard them. Mighty -busy, too. - -But they didn’t need him. Killer had gone padding up and down the banks -of Doctor Muskrat’s pond looking for tracks of someone he could eat, and -he’d left his own. He’d left a clear trail from the Hop-toad’s home to -his own. “Lessee who’s here!” said Tommy Peele. He tried to lift one of -Killer’s big stones. - -“Try this,” said Louie Thomson. He picked up a big stick and poked it -into the crack between them. Then both little boys began to shove on the -stick. Slowly it pried the crack apart. One of the big stones reared up -on end and fell over backward. And there sat snaky-slim, bristly -whiskered, snarly toothed Killer, with his wicked eyes rage-red and his -wicked claws set to spring at them! - -Why didn’t he do it? Well, it was the same reason Stripes Skunk -explained to Nibble Rabbit and Nibble tried on the cat. They weren’t -afraid of him. - -Indeed they weren’t even angry, for they didn’t know all the harm he’d -been doing and there wasn’t anybody in all the Woods and Fields who -could tell them. Tommy said: “What’s that?” and Louie answered, “First -time I ever saw him,” and they just stood still and stared at him. - -Killer certainly was afraid of them. His wits were as muddled as a -pollywog’s puddle when a duck goes fishing in it. First place, what had -happened to his nice safe home? Tooth nor toenail couldn’t dig into it. -Then why did that great big stone flop right over on its back and leave -him without a place to hide in? He didn’t know it was because the little -boys used a stick to pry it with just like the First Man used a stick to -pry the stone that shut up the pass to his little island against the -wolves in the First-off Beginning of Things. - -Killer was as bad as any wolf, but the little boys didn’t know that. -They didn’t know enough to be afraid of the wicked little beast who -scrouched down at their very feet, snarling and swearing at them. All -they thought of was the funny faces he was making. They were snarlier -and funnier than any Stripes Skunk could ever make, or even Tad Coon. - -“Te-hee,” giggled Louie. “My, but he thinks he’s big!” - -“Ho-ho!” laughed Tommy, thinking of the fight between Nibble Rabbit and -the cat that morning, “I’d like to see what our old Tabby would say to -him.” - -That was too much for Killer. He did jump. But he didn’t jump at them. -He went leaping off into the Woods, spitting like a firecracker and -looking for a new place to hide from them. And he found--the Big Oak that -was blown down in the Terrible Storm where the Bad Little Owls were -hidden! Wow! But wasn’t Killer mad when he bounced into the hole of the -Big Oak! - -He hadn’t more than poked his whiskers inside the hollow tree than he -smelled owl. He smelled other things, too, but he was too mad to think -about them. - -“Yah!” he snarled, sniffing viciously. “So that’s where you are, you -lying little flap-wings. Just you wait until I get my breath and I’ll -teach you a few things. You told me it was good hunting here, you did! -Well, there isn’t so much as a mouse-tail swishing, or a feather flying, -or even a frog hopping by your fine pond. Not a trail has been made -since the big rain that almost washed me out of my snug stones. - -“And, next, did you think I wouldn’t hear what happened to Silvertip the -Fox? He isn’t dead. He’s turned into the worst enemy we weasels have; -he’s a Ghost Owl and he’s haunting these very Woods and Fields. That’s -why all the other creatures have gone.” - -“He isn’t! Truly he isn’t,” wailed Screecher’s wife. “Grandpop -Snappingturtle ate him.” - -“Hm. So that’s the story you’re telling now, is it?” snapped Killer. “I -thought you said he was hunting duck in the Big Marsh over on the other -side of the Deep Woods. Didn’t you?” - -“Ye-es,” sniffed the owl. (She did, you know.) “But----” - -Now if Killer had let her say another word she would have told him why -she lied and she’d have explained that Grandpop Snappingturtle was -gone, and things might have been very different whether he believed her -or not. But he didn’t. He began crouching, creeping toward the very -darkest end of the long log where he could hear the scared little birds -squirming in terror. His eyes gleamed red in the blackness, with green -flashes, as he peered for them. - -But you surely haven’t forgotten that this was the very tree where -Stripes Skunk found the honey that helped him make friends with Tad Coon -and Tommy Peele. - -The bees were fast asleep. They woke up all right enough when those -scared little owls began scratching scared little claws into their nice -neat home. “Brzz?” they began to call. “What’s happening? Call out the -guard. Shake a wing, there! See who’s attacking us!” - -Did the little Screecher Owls pay any attention? They did not. Killer -the Weasel was gnashing his teeth at them and glaring his eyes in the -black dark. “Whe-e-e!” moaned the owl’s wife as she climbed up the soft -comb until she bumped her head against the top of the log, right by -the little hole. “Who-o-o,” shivered her mate, scrambling after her. -“Ur-r-rk!” she squawked as the first of the bee guards got his sting -between her feathers. - -She gave a flounce--and the honeycomb broke away. She could see the sky -through the hole! Scuttle, scramble, scratch, and flutter--my, but it was -a tight fit! All the same she did just manage to squeeze through, and -her mate grabbed hold of her tight new tailfeathers and dragged through -behind her. But Killer didn’t! - -Killer couldn’t even see to try. He was a regular ball of angry bees, -and he hadn’t bee-proof fur like Stripes Skunk, even if he did claim to -be Stripes’ cousin. He went bouncing down that long hollow trunk, -bumping into every jagged splinter on the whole inside of it. He went -racing for Doctor Muskrat’s pond, just like any other Wild Thing, and -plunged in. Because he knew no bee would dare plunge in after him. Only -the very few whose stings were tangled in his fur wet their wings. - -But he hadn’t more than got his head under water than he was in just as -much of a hurry to get out again. What if the owl had told the truth for -once? What if Silvertip the Fox was eaten by Grandpop Snappingturtle? - -When he came out his nose was beginning to swell, but it wasn’t so -swelled that he couldn’t smell Tommy and Louie, hunting for him. His -eyes were beginning to close, but they weren’t shut so tight he -couldn’t see them. He turned his head to look and ran right spang into -Tad Coon’s tree. Up it he climbed and out across the limb where Chatter -Squirrel comes over from his hickory when he wants a drink from the -pond. Up that he climbed--high up. He wanted to squint across the bare -limbs to see where the squirrel roads ran so he could follow them -through the tree-tops. - -[Illustration: Killer climbs the big hickory tree after Chatter -Squirrel.] - -But high up in that hickory is where Chatter Squirrel made his winter -nest of leaves, all woven together and neatly tucked in around the -edges. It’s the best place in the world to hide because it looks like an -old crow’s nest that the leaves have blown into. - -Chatter wasn’t asleep. The Bad Little Owls had wakened him and Killer -splashing in the pond had kept him awake. - -“Here,” thought Chatter, who’s the most curious somebody on toepads, -“something’s going on. I guess I’ll stretch my legs. It isn’t so very -cold. I’d kind of like to know how long I’ve been asleep--it must be -more’n a week.” So out popped his head. - -Scritchy, scritchy came claws up his very own tree. Chatter pricked his -ears. Then he squirmed far enough out of his front door so he could look -down on--the big bulging whiskers of Killer the Weasel. Hm! You ought to -have heard Chatter Squirrel. The little owls weren’t in it at all when -he began screeching! - - - - -CHAPTER VIII--KILLER FINALLY REACHES MOUSE-HEAVEN - - -Chatter Squirrel scrambled up to the very tippest twig of his tree and -there he hung while he told Killer all about himself. “Slit-throat!” and -“Furred-snake!” and “Mud-belly!” were about the only things I dare to -repeat. And all the time he kept rocking that springy treetop until -Killer was fairly seasick. - -Did Tommy Peele and Louie Thomson hear him? You know they did. The -Hop-toad didn’t try to tell them about Killer because they didn’t talk -his language. Chatter didn’t try either. He was just speaking out his -mind and he didn’t care who happened to be listening. All the same, -those two little boys didn’t have to know squirrel talk to understand. - -But it wasn’t a safe thing for Chatter to do. He made Killer so terribly -angry that he forgot to be scared and he forgot to be hungry and he -forgot to be seasick--all he wanted was to hush up that squirrel. Up he -came, foot over paw. - -Up he came--and Chatter hadn’t any higher place to climb! He’d lost his -temper, too. But as soon as he saw what a pickle he was in he found it -again, and his wits with it. He rocked until his perch had a good long -swing and then he let himself go. Out he leaped, all paws spread, -sailing like a bird, then down--down---- - -Down went Chatter Squirrel. He kept right side up for he had his tail to -help him. There was a big branch right beyond him. One good flick of his -rudder, like a swimming fish, and his toes caught it. He swung right -around it, like a trapeze man in a circus, scratched his nose on a twig, -and then clamped his poor kicking hind feet against the bark. There he -stuck with his poor little sides panting. - -Down went Killer the Weasel. His measly little scrump of a tail was -mighty little use to him. He went toes over ears. He never so much as -got a claw on any twig because he couldn’t see to catch them; but he -knew where every one of them was. They whipped him and switched him from -behind and before as he whirled through them. He got a terrible spank -when he found his branch, for he found it wrong side first and went -bouncing off again, bing, into Nibble Rabbit’s Pickery Things. “Yip! -Yeaur-r-r!” Rip! Tear! Blam! he hit the earth at last. - -There he lay. For a minute he thought he was dead--right then. Then he -began to breathe; before he really knew what to do next he found his -legs were running, running, just like Nibble Rabbit runs when Killer is -after him. And he let them go. Past the Brushpile he ran, across the -Clover-patch, through the Corn. Suddenly right before him he saw the -stone-pile. Down a crack he dove and pulled his tail in after him. - -He found a little bed of dry grass no wind had ever blown in there, but -he didn’t stop to think about it then. He was so weak and tired and -bumped about he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He hardly hit the bottom -before he was sound asleep. - -Now some of the fieldmice who ran away from Doctor Muskrat’s pond before -the Big Rain had chosen that stone-pile to live in--those who didn’t go -all the way up to the barn. If Killer hadn’t been more hurt than he was -hungry and more tired than he was hurt, he wouldn’t have had to smell -very far to find out it was a mouse’s own bed he’d fallen asleep on. - -The mice knew soon enough, and then of all the wailing and weeping and -sniffing and squeaking you ever heard tell of--well! Of course, they -called a meeting. They held it outside, in the cold wind that was -whistling through the stones. But not all of the mice would come. - -One mad old mother mouse decided to stay and run the risk of being eaten -rather than go to new dangers; and one greedy weepy mouse refused to -leave his second set of winter stores. - -Poor old Great-grandfather Fieldmouse, who’s so old his ears are all -crinkled, sat all hunched up with his whiskers drooping and his tail as -straight as a sick pig’s. But he was very wise for a fieldmouse. “Mice,” -said he, lifting a shaky paw, “we must not think; we must run. And - - ‘Down wind to flee from danger. - Up wind to meet a stranger.’ - -So here is our road.” He turned his old back to the breeze and began to -hump himself along, though even a mouse wouldn’t have called it running. -He was lucky, too, for the wind blew him right into the straw-stack -where all the rest of the mice had settled the night they ran away from -Doctor Muskrat’s pond. They thought they had found mouse-heaven because -the stack wasn’t thrashed yet. But the mice who tried to do something -different, right out of their foolish heads--you can guess what happened -to them! - -It was in the middle of the night when Killer the Weasel woke up. The -stone-pile was a whole lot quieter than it had been that evening when he -flopped into it, and for a minute he thought he was back in his own snug -home between two stones on the bank of Doctor Muskrat’s pond. - -Just then one of the little mice, who belonged to the fat old mamma -mouse who was too stubborn to leave, began to squall. “Eh? What’s that?” -Killer pricked up his ears. “Where am I, anyhow?” He began to look -himself over. He was bumps and lumps from head to foot, his fur was -torn--and when he moved he snubbed his nose on all sorts of rolly little -stones. - -“This isn’t my home,” said he. - -But he did find that foolish mother mouse and fished her children out of -their nest with his slinky paw. And he did find that greedy mouse, who -wouldn’t leave his stores. He was sticking in a crack too small for his -fat middle, with his feet kicking in the air. Killer felt quite full and -rested after he’d eaten them all. “Mice are very nice,” he said to -himself as he picked the last of their bones. “Very nice and juicy! -Hunting these Woodsfolk has got me into a clawful of trouble. I believe -I’ll live on mice for a while.” - -Out he climbed and went sniffing all the trails until he found the big -clear wide one where the mice ran away from him. “So-ho,” said he. “Now -I wonder where these fellows went to.” Sniff, sniff, he went gliding off -into the darkness, down the wind, hiding in every grass-clump to be sure -nobody was after him, until he crawled into the very bottom of the -straw-stack where the mice were living. How rich and mousy it smelled! -If the fat grains seemed like heaven to the mice, the fat mice all -around him seemed like heaven to him. - - - - -CHAPTER IX--MRS. TABITHA PUSS-CAT’S SECRET - - -In the meantime, while Watch the Dog was busy in the barn, Stripes -Skunk’s kittens came dashing up calling, “Come! Quick, quick! Come!” And -what do you suppose they’d found? An oil-can that fell off the mowing -machine and got raked up in the hay. Its spout was broken off so it -didn’t hold any more oil, but it wasn’t empty. Great Grass-seeds, no! - -It held a mouse. And she was squealing away inside, making the funniest, -tinniest sound, like talking into a teapot. “I’m Nibble Rabbit’s friend! -I’ve got something dreadfully important to tell him. Call Nibble -Rabbit!” - -They did call Nibble. He came a-hopping. He squeezed in as close as ever -he could get to that oil-can. “Well!” he exclaimed, “if it isn’t the -lady mouse who saved my life when Ouphe the Rat was after me! You -needn’t worry, Ma’am. My hunting friends won’t hurt you.” - -“They can’t,” chuckled the mouse. “Even Ouphe’s wicked grandsons -couldn’t. They gnawed my front door till their teeth ached but they -couldn’t make it any bigger, and even their grabby paws wouldn’t reach -to the bottom of it. But I’ve sat here listening and listening and -squirming in my skin because they were listening, too, so I couldn’t get -out to warn you. This is what I heard: - -“All the mice from the Woods and Fields are living in the stack of grain -Tommy Peele’s father grew to feed the cows in the winter time. Not just -a few of us, like other years, but hundreds and hundreds all nibbling -and destroying it. Before long there won’t be anything left. Then, the -rats say, the cows will go wild and the men will starve, and the mice -will have all these houses and barns and everything else that’s in them. -But the rats will rule over them. You know what that means. I’d rather -have men.” - -Nibble Rabbit’s face was as long as his ears when he backed out of the -haystack. And he repeated every word the lady mouse had just been -telling him. - -“Hm!” remarked Stripes Skunk who had been listening with his head on one -side. “Looks to me as if it was time for us Woodsfolk to do something. -Let’s call a meeting. Doctor Muskrat, Chaik Jay, and Tad Coon are still -to be heard from. Here, sons,” he waved a paw, “go bring them.” And off -scuttled his three kittens. - -Well, to make a long story short, a meeting they had. But little good -did it do them. The mice were in the stack; they didn’t have to leave it -for any reason, and unless they did, none of the Woodsfolk could catch -them. - -“Urr-wrr!” growled Watch uneasily after the fiftieth time they’d been -over the question. “We might do something if we could make the cat talk -with us.” - -You ought to have seen the Woodsfolk prick up their ears when Watch the -Dog spoke of the cat. Nobody else knew a single thing about her, but -instead of listening to what Watch had to say they all began to talk at -once--isn’t that always the way? - -“What good can that cat do? She’s a sneak and a liar,” said Nibble -Rabbit. - -“A cat has no friends--she always hunts alone,” put in Stripes Skunk. - -“She’s a lazy, greedy, ill-mannered brute,” said Tad. - -“Dear me,” grinned Watch, “what an awful creature she must be, to hear -you tell about her. Let’s have Doctor Muskrat’s opinion.” - -“I don’t know anything,” answered the wise old beast, “but I suspect -she’s like these white ducks I’ve been hunting with the last few days. -They’d be dreadful fools to a wild duck’s way of thinking, but they’ve -taught me a lot. Maybe that cat would teach us a lot more. Eh, Watch? -What about her?” - -“You’re all of you right,” sniffed Watch, thoughtfully cocking one ear. -“For the first three months I spent on this farm I don’t think I was -ever without one of her claw-marks on me. So I used to hate her. And -you’re all of you wrong, too.” He cocked the other ear. “Once she taught -me to chase my own rats and gnaw my own bones I learned there isn’t a -creature in fur honester or with better manners. She’s friends with -nobody, yet I feel mighty friendly toward her. Man-ways or beast-ways, -she knows more than all of us put together. She could teach us a lot, -but she won’t. Yet if she chose to advise us, without giving a single -reason, I’d do exactly what she said and trust her for the rest. She’s -clever!” - -“Well, Watch,” came a purring voice from nowhere in particular (it was -pretty dark by now), “if that’s the way you feel, I’ll tell you this. Be -on foot here tomorrow night and you’ll see the last mouse blow to the -woods on the sunset wind.” The voice stopped. It certainly was Mrs. -Tabitha Puss-cat who had been talking, but crane their necks as they -would, nobody could see a sign of her. - -Nibble sat down and scratched his collar with his hind foot, he was that -puzzled about it. “Well,” he gasped, “what do you s’pose she meant?” - -“I don’t know,” Watch answered, “but she must have had a reason of her -own.” - -“I did,” said the puss-cat voice, and there Mrs. Tabitha stood right -beside him, purring. “Until we get these mice cleaned off this farm I -want to make a compact with your friends. If they won’t hunt me I won’t -hunt them.” She looked specially at Tad Coon. - -“By the curl in the bull-frog’s tail.” Tad exclaimed admiringly. “You -are a clever one. Oh, mice, what a lot of claws you’ll find a-waiting -for you.” Of course the Woodsfolk were willing to be friends. - -But the cat hadn’t told all her reason. She knew Killer the Weasel had -just crawled into that mouse’s straw-stack. She didn’t want to be the one -to fight him when he came out again. And she knew just when and why he -was coming. That was a secret, too. - -How did Mrs. Tabitha Puss-Cat know the mice were going to leave their -straw-stack at sundown the very next evening? Because she knew there -wouldn’t be any stack left for them to stay in, or any grain left to -eat. Up at the house Tommy Peele’s father had just been saying: “Better -go to bed early, young fellow, if you’re going to stay home from school -tomorrow to help me with the thrashing.” - -You know what thrashing is. A great big engine comes puffing into the -barnyard with a great big machine that shakes all the fat little grains -out of their thin little chaff overcoats. Tommy Peele’s father thrashed -at the very last, latest end of the season, because he knew those fat -little grains would keep on getting fatter even after their stems were -cut off, if he just piled them up into a nice stack and let them go -quietly off to sleep for the winter. They hide a lot of good food in -their hollow stems; the furry folk aren’t the only ones who get ready -for the hungry season. - -“Toot-toot!” whistled the engine. “Fsssh!” it sent up a cloud of steam. -“Clank, clank, squeak, squeak, cough!” went the thrashing machine. Then -“Wurr-wurr-wurr,” its tongue began to lick up the bundles of straw with -the grains all wrapped up on the ends of their stalks. It licked so fast -that the men who were feeding it could hardly keep up with its appetite. -“Whish,” came the straw tumbling out of a long hollow arm with a crook -on the end of it that spread the straw into a new pile. - -And you ought to have seen the little overcoats go sailing off in the -wind. But the sleepy little grains didn’t know anything about it. They -came pouring out of the side of that machine, all nice and warm, and -snuggled together in a comfortable sack, ready to be stored away--where -the mice couldn’t get them--for Tommy’s own hungry season. - -Watch wanted to shake himself by the scruff of his own furry neck for -not thinking about it. Now he knew what that cat meant. The new -strawpile grew bigger and bigger; the old stack, where the mice were -hidden, grew smaller and smaller. Those foolish mice soon wouldn’t have -any stack left to hide in. Pretty soon they’d have to begin coming -out--but he didn’t know who else was coming! The cat didn’t tell him. - - - - -CHAPTER X--MANY THINGS THRASHED OUT - - -Tommy Peele was mighty busy the day of the thrashing. He had to run for -oil, and monkey wrenches, and drinks for the men, and I don’t know what -else, all day long. So were the men. So was that noisy, hungry old -thrashing machine that kept eat, eat, eating up the mouse’s stack, -shaking out the grain for Tommy’s winter food, and the pigs’ and cows’ -and the chickens’. But none of them was any busier than Watch. - -The mouse’s stack grew smaller and smaller. Every time a man lifted off -any straw, the mice beneath it dived deep down into the little low heap -there was left, until it really held more mice than grain. And something -else. For Killer was hiding down in the very deepest bottom of it. - -He couldn’t think what was going on. The noise outside frightened him. -When he put out his nose to see what was happening, there was a man -standing right in front of him; so he pulled back in a great hurry. The -next time he tried it, he found the big green eyes of the cat staring -right at him. They made shivers run up his spine and took away his -appetite. How he wished he’d never come away from home! But all he could -do now was to sit still and listen. - -Awful things began to happen. Whole families of baby mice, too little to -run, went into the maw of that machine, and nobody knew what became of -them. Mice began bursting out of the crowded stack. Some of them ran any -which way. Some of them saw the new strawpile and scuttled over there. -Then---- - -“Squeak--wee-ee-ak!” That was the end of them. For it hid Tad Coon and -Stripes Skunk and his three kittens. That’s what Watch had been doing. -He’d been sneaking them in there when nobody was looking. And Doctor -Muskrat was there, too, with those three jolly white ducks who’ll gobble -a mouse gladly if any one will kill it for them. And Nibble Rabbit and -the whole bunny family were on guard to make sure nobody got past the -fighters while they were busy. - -Mrs. Tabitha Puss-Cat knew that’s what would happen when the thrashing -machine ate up the straw from over the very heads of the mice. But she -was the only one who was clever enough to think about it. - -Yet she wasn’t proud. She was worried. She’d seen Killer the Weasel run -into that stack. Where was he if he wasn’t hiding in the little bit of -it that was left? And if he was--well, she didn’t want the Woodsfolk to -spend their time catching mice and leave her to fight him. She wanted -them to do it. That’s why she took the trouble to make friends with -them. So she kept walking about on top of it saying “Mewaur-r-r. -Mewaur-r-r,” in a troubled voice. - -“What’s up now?” asked Watch, bouncing over to hear what the old cat was -saying. But she felt so sneaky about what she’d been hiding from them -all that now she didn’t care to explain. She just danced about like -someone was biting her toes on the bottom and yowled. So of course he -began sniffing and digging. - -“There’s something else here,” said Tommy’s father. “Let’s see.” He took -up his fork and made the straw fly. The other men came to help him. They -kept the old cat jumping. - -[Illustration: The Woodsfolk began bursting out of the straw pile, in and -out and up and down.] - -“Yaur-r!” she squalled. Her tail swelled up with fright and her eyes -began to gleam. A dark streak had shot out of the straw--the very thing -she had been looking for--Killer the Weasel! My, but he was going! - -And nobody seemed to have any wits about him. Nobody you’d expect to -have them. Nobody but little Tommy Peele and Stripes Skunk’s children. -They thought Killer was a rat, and they just had to hunt him. They -weren’t afraid of men; the only men they knew were Tommy Peele and Louie -Thomson, and they were good friends. Wow! but just didn’t they take -after him! - -The Woodsfolk began bursting out of that strawpile. - -Paws were surely flying. Under the stack they went, over the engine, -through the thrashing machine, in and out and up and down. But Killer -was smaller and faster than any one. And how he could climb! Better than -any one but the cat, and she was afraid of him. It he could have reached -the elm tree or a rat hole--but the skunks hadn’t practised on rats for -nothing. - -There was one more thing to climb--the long arm of the thrashing machine, -reaching almost to the roof of the barn. Up he went. He was way out in -the far-out end when Tad Coon bounced, four-footed, on the bottom of it. -Upsy-daisy, it flicked the weasel off like Chatter Squirrel’s hickory -tree had done. Killer went rolling and tumbling down the slippery side -of the new strawpile. - -For a moment nobody moved, hide nor hair nor skin--nor overalls. Killer -the Weasel rolled and slid and clawed and grabbed at the loose straw. -Didn’t he send it flying! And wasn’t he cursing and snarling! The men -held their breath. The Woodsfolk gulped hard for theirs because they’d -lost it all chasing him. - -Suddenly Tommy’s dog Watch began to bark: “He’ll dig in! He’ll dig in! -There’s nobody guarding the bottom of it! If he digs in we’ll lose him!” - -He forgot about old Doctor Muskrat! The wise old fellow doesn’t like to -fight. He can’t run fast enough. But if fighting comes his way---- - -Well, he’d been sitting all this time in the bottom of the straw just -nibbling his whiskers because he wasn’t any help to the rest of them. -Killer came tumbling right down on top of him. And Killer was surely -fighting! - -Snap! Doctor Muskrat can snap fast enough to catch minnows with their -flicky tails. I guess he could snap fast enough to catch Killer, no -matter how swiftly he was passing. They rolled out into the barnyard, -slashing and biting. And the cat arched her back and squalled, “Kill -him! Kill him!” - -A lot of help she was! Neither of the fighters knew where he had a hold -of the other fellow, though they each knew mighty well where the other -fellow had a hold of him. - -Flop! came Tad Coon with his teeth all ready. But the three skunk -kittens were before him. Their bright little eyes were blazing, their -jaws were snapping. They wiped what was left of the wicked beast all -over the barnyard, snarling: “You killed our mammy, you did! You killed -her!” They hadn’t forgotten. But Killer’s killing days were done. - -He hadn’t even killed Doctor Muskrat; he had just slashed a horrid hole -in the old fellow’s skin. But the old muskrat sat up, as soon as he’d -caught his breath again, pawed the straw and dirt off his ears, and -flopped over to the cows’ drinking trough for a dip in cold water to -stop the bleeding. Then he was all right. - -And those men. They clean forgot all about going home. They stood and -talked over what a grand fight it had been. And you ought to have heard -Tommy Peele’s father arguing with Louie Thomson’s about which was the -best ratter to have about the barn, a skunk or a coon. - -Mrs. Puss-Cat was so jealous she mi-aued right out loud--but nobody would -pay any attention to her at all. Nobody but Watch, and he hid his grin, -but he shook to the tip ends of his fur, laughing at her. So she held -her tongue and put her crafty wits to work planning just how she could -get the Woodsfolk all back to their pond--without quarrelling. You’d -better believe after what she’d seen of their fighting she didn’t want -any. She did it, too. But just how--that’s another story. - - -THE END - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JAY BIRD WHO WENT TAME *** - -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 an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks 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 other than 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 will 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 website -(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 the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager 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 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 website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread 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 website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website 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. |