Groundy, and I for one will leave. I couldn’t drive out those dear
little woodchucks.”
“Nor me either,” said Billy, smiling down at the sleepy youngsters.
“Then I guess we’d all better leave,” remarked Bumper, “and let Groundy
have the burrow.”
So the dispute of ownership was settled, and all hopped away, leaving
Groundy in possession. The next story will be about how Bumper settled
a dispute between Pink Nose and Rolly Polly.
STORY XI
PINK NOSE AND ROLLY POLLY
Bumper, finding that Groundy was entitled to the burrow he and Fuzzy
Wuzz had entered, hopped away in search of another place. Of course,
there had been a grand scramble in the woods for the choice sites. Just
like people when new land is thrown open for settlement, every one of
the animals made a rush for the best holes.
This naturally caused all sorts of conflicts, and disputes rose on
every side. The choicest places were close to the river where they
would have water right at their door. But Billy the Mink and Browny the
Muskrat had the first right to these water sites, for they couldn’t
live inland. Their homes had to be near or under the water. Mr. Beaver
likewise had to have a swimming pool adjoining his home, and he came in
next for river views.
Fortunately Sneaky the Wolf and Mr. Fox, as well as Loup the Lynx,
preferred dens in the very heart of the woods, and they prowled around
in the thickest places, leaving the smaller animals to dispute about
sites on the water front.
Even the rabbits wanted to be within a short distance of the river. “If
we have a fire on this side some day,” remarked Pink Nose, “I want to
be so close to the river I can cross it in the middle of the night.”
“Goodness me!” exclaimed Rolly Polly. “Don’t speak about another fire!
I don’t think I could go through another one.”
“It frightened me so,” said Crooked Ears, “that I’m sure some of my
hairs turned gray. Certainly I feel years older.”
“Yes,” added Brindley the Lame, “it was a terrible experience, but
finding new homes for all our families is nearly as heart-rending. I
declare, I’ve hunted nearly everywhere, and haven’t found a place yet
to suit me. When I do find one that seems just right somebody is ahead
of me and takes possession.”
“That reminds me,” laughed Bumper, “of the experience of Billy
Porcupine and Washer the Raccoon. They thought they both discovered a
home at the same time, and neither would give in.”
Then he related the story of how Groundy the Woodchuck had proven to
them that neither one had any right to the burrow, for he had been
ahead of them.
“Ha! Ha!” laughed Rolly Polly. “That was a good one, and served Billy
and Washer right for being so selfish.”
“But they both thought they were right,” said Bumper, “yet one of them
must have been wrong. Which would you say was in the right, Rolly
Polly?”
“Neither,” was the prompt retort. “They were both wrong, and very
selfish. If each had given in to the other there would have been no
dispute.”
“Would you have given in?”
“Certainly! Who wouldn’t?”
“I’m sure I would,” said Pink Nose. “I quite agree with Rolly Polly.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” said Bumper, smiling. “There wouldn’t be
any disputes if all were as unselfish as you and Rolly Polly.”
Perhaps Pink Nose and Rolly Polly thought they would be unselfish, and
they could condemn Billy and Washer without having to be put to a real
test. But sometimes when we boast of our virtues we soon get in a fix
where we have to prove our words. Now this was just what happened to
Rolly Polly and Pink Nose.
They started out shortly in different directions to renew the search
for a home site. Rolly Polly, after much wandering around, came to a
clump of trees which seemed to offer an ideal home for his family.
“I’ll burrow down under that big tree,” he said, “and make a spacious
home for my little ones. The dirt is soft and smooth here, and the
roots of the tree will make a good foundation for the tunnels.”
Satisfied that he had at last found just what he had been looking for,
he began digging. First he dug straight down a foot under the biggest
root, and then ran his tunnel along under the tree. When he reached the
middle he intended to run tunnels on either side, and build his burrow.
He worked hard for several hours until the hole was big enough to suit
him. “I must be nearly under the middle of the tree,” he mused, and
stopped to rest a minute.
Suddenly there was a noise of scratching and scraping. At first he
thought it was outside, and he lay very quiet in the hole, but a moment
later he was sure that the digging came from underneath. A little
frightened, he waited and listened.
Some animal was digging down on the opposite side of the big tree.
Rolly Polly was ready to run if the animal proved to be an enemy, but
before he could leave the dirt crumbled before him, and the head of
Pink Nose was thrust through the opening.
“What a scare you gave me!” exclaimed Rolly Polly. “I thought the Hound
or Mr. Fox was after me.”
“You gave me a shock, too,” replied Pink Nose. “I didn’t know you were
here until I saw you.”
“Yes, I’ve found a home for my family at last. I chose this big tree,
and I’ve dug a tunnel clear under it. But what are you doing, Pink
Nose?”
“Digging a burrow for my family. Can’t you see for yourself? I started
on the other side of the tree, and I’ve dug clear down to here.”
“Yes, but you can’t have this place,” protested Rolly Polly. “I’ve
selected it for my burrow.”
“And I’ve selected it for mine. See what a long tunnel I’ve dug.”
“Not longer than mine.”
“Oh, yes, it is. Just to show you I’ll measure it, and then we’ll
measure yours.”
“All right! It’s agreed that the one who’s dug the longest tunnel has
the place for his burrow. Is that right?”
“Yes, I’ll agree to that.”
They measured first one, and then the other. Then they measured them
again, and frowned. They were exactly the same length.
“Now what are you going to do?” asked Pink Nose.
“Stay here, of course. I have as much right as you.”
“Then I’ll stay, too. You can’t frighten me away, and I don’t intend to
have all my work for nothing.”
Bumper found them in this unyielding state of mind, with neither one
willing to give way to the other. Recalling their remarks about Billy
Porcupine and Washer the Raccoon, Bumper smiled to himself. After all
they were not much less selfish than Billy and Washer when put to the
real test. It is always easier to preach than practice.
“It seems to me,” Bumper remarked after a while, “that we’d better make
a two-family house out of this burrow. That’s the simplest solution of
the problem.”
“How can we do that?” asked Rolly Polly. “I never heard of such a
thing. My family could never live with Pink Nose’s family.”
“No, but you could dig to the right, and Pink Nose to the left,
starting from this meeting point,” Bumper explained. “Your burrow would
be on the right, and Pink Nose’s on the left, and you could each use
your own entrance to it. Then you wouldn’t have to do the work you’ve
done all over again.”
This pleased both of them, and they began burrowing to the right and
left until they had the first two-family house ever built in the woods.
Each had its separate entrance, which met in a common hall at their
doors. The next story will tell of Downy the Woodpecker and Belt the
Sapsucker.
STORY XII
DOWNY THE WOODPECKER AND BELT THE SAPSUCKER
Not all the trouble in establishing themselves in the new woods was
confined to the animals. The coming of so many birds across the river
all at once, each without a home or nesting place, caused a great
amount of confusion. There were trees aplenty, but not every tree is
suitable for a bird’s nest.
Piney the Purple Finch, for instance, wanted the same high branch to
build his nest on that Mr. Pine Grosbeak had chosen, and they quarreled
over it until Shrike the Butcher Bird came along and drove them both
away with his shrill cries and threatening manner. Yellow Breast the
Chat found a tangled thicket under a big pine for his home, but Towhee
the Chewink objected, for he had made his new home in that thicket.
Hermit the Thrush had been fortunate in finding an ideal home for her
brood, and was perfectly satisfied until she found Great Horn the Owl
had taken possession of a hole in a rotten tree branch directly over
her head.
And so it was with all the others. There were confusion and disputes
and mistakes, and all sorts of heart aches and disappointment. But
the saddest was the trouble between Downy the Woodpecker and Belt the
Sapsucker.
Now Downy and Belt were close relations, first cousins, in fact, and
they should have known better; but then relatives, even brothers and
sisters, sometimes have their quarrels, and we can’t entirely blame
Belt and Downy.
It was this way. Downy found a hole in the rotten trunk of a tall tree,
and immediately began hollowing it out a little more so he could build
his nest at the bottom. Then Belt, who had had poor luck finding a
place for his home, saw the tree, and immediately became jealous of his
cousin. And envy generally breeds unpleasant thoughts and deeds. Belt
determined to drive Downy away by methods that later he was ashamed of.
“You’re surely not going to build your nest in that hole Downy!” Belt
exclaimed.
“Why, yes, I am! Why shouldn’t I?”
“Well, if you want Hoot the Owl in your family it’s none of my affair,”
was the reply.
“Hoot the Owl! Is he around here?” exclaimed Downy, in genuine
surprise and alarm.
“Around here!” laughed Belt. “Didn’t you see him digging out that hole
to build his nest? Surely you must see marks of his claws in the wood.”
Downy was so frightened that he thought he saw the marks of Hoot’s
claws all around him. Yes, he was certain that the hole had been dug
out by Hoot, and he could smell the odors of the owl at the bottom now
that his attention was called to it.
“Thank you for telling me, Belt,” he said. “Of course, I don’t want to
build anywhere near Hoot. No, no, not within a mile of him. I’ll go as
far away as I can.”
And he flew away, leaving Belt in possession. It was a wicked trick,
but Belt felt that the circumstances warranted a little deception. He
wanted the hole in the worst way, and now that Downy had abandoned it,
why, of course, he had a right to take it. He began almost immediately
to fix it up. He dug a little deeper into the heart of the tree with
his strong bill until he had a hole that just satisfied him.
Then he flew away to gather leaves and grass for the nest. He made
many trips until the nest was nearly all built. He wanted it finished
before Mrs. Belt arrived, but night came with it only three-quarters
finished.
“I think I’ll sleep in it tonight,” he said, “and then finish it early
in the morning.”
He went to bed early, as all self-respecting birds do, and was fast
asleep shortly after dusk. He was dreaming of pleasant things when he
was suddenly awakened by a noise outside. He sat up and listened. It
was Mr. Hoot the Owl and his mate sitting on the doorstep of his home
talking.
“I think this hole will do very well for us,” Hoot was saying. “It’s
the best I can find.”
“I don’t know,” replied Mrs. Hoot. “We might find a better place if we
looked further.”
“Haven’t we looked all over the woods?” asked Hoot impatiently. “I’m
dreadfully tired, and this house hunting tires me more than anything
else in the world. The last place I selected you didn’t like because it
was too near the river, and now this one is way back.”
“It’s too far away from all my friends, too,” objected Mrs. Hoot. “I
don’t like to live off alone. I want to be near other people.”
“Yes, that’s it--always objecting!” exclaimed Hoot irritably. “Well,
then, if you can find a better place go and look for it. This suits me.”
“Now please don’t get angry,” replied Mrs. Hoot. “I didn’t say this
place didn’t please me. I can’t tell until we look it over. Suppose we
go inside and see how it is in there. Of course, there will have to be
many improvements made. I never saw a house ready-made for me that was
satisfactory in all respects.”
“No, indeed,” replied Hoot. “But I’ll look inside.”
You can imagine Belt’s feelings! There he was shut up in the hole with
Hoot the Owl coming down to look around. Oh, what could he do! Why had
he deceived Downy! Now he was going to be punished for his lie.
“If I ever get out of here alive,” he breathed, “I’ll never tell
another lie. I’ll never deceive any one again.”
But of course this didn’t get him out. Nothing could! The entrance was
blocked by Hoot and his mate. Then he heard Hoot scrambling through
the opening. In another minute he would discover Belt crouched at the
bottom of the hole.
“Oh, dear, the hole is altogether too small for us,” he heard Hoot say.
“No, this will never suit you. It will take more repairing than it’s
worth. I’ll have to make the entrance twice as large.”
“Then if we’re going to look further come on right away,” said Mrs.
Hoot. “We’ve got to find a suitable place before morning.”
After a few more words they flew away. Belt heard them go, and a great
relief came to him. It seemed too good to be true. He wasn’t going
to be eaten up after all. He was so thankful that he said to himself
before he dropped off to sleep again, “In the morning I’ll tell Downy
he can have the hole. I’ll confess all to him.”
But when the sun appeared, and Belt peeped out of the hole to see the
light of a new day, he was so pleased with the beauty of the woods that
he regretted he had decided to give up his home to Downy. For a moment
his decision wavered. Then he said: “No, I’ll keep my word. I’ll tell
Downy at once.”
He flew away into the woods until he found his cousin. Downy listened
to his story, and then shook his head:
“You deserve the scare you got, Belt, but I forgive you for telling me
that story. However, I don’t want the hole. I’ve found one that suits
me better. You can have the old one.”
[Illustration: AFTER A FEW MORE WORDS THEY FLEW AWAY]
So it really worked out for the best, and Belt took permanent
possession of the old hole, which he took good care not to enlarge so
Hoot could get in, and Downy remained in happy possession of the new
one he had found.
In the next story you will hear how Killer the Snake broke the truce in
the woods and got himself in trouble.
STORY XIII
HOW KILLER THE SNAKE BROKE THE TRUCE
Of all the creatures of the woods Killer the Snake had the reputation
for sly deception that made him the most distrusted. Perhaps his
reputation was not founded upon justice, but at any rate Bumper was
not easy in mind when Killer crawled away in the bushes, after the
agreement, without a word as to his intentions.
Killer’s favorite pastime was robbing nests of their eggs and young
birds, or hunting Hoppy the Toad, which he swallowed whole. When such
food was not to be found, he would sometimes raid the burrows of the
larger animals. He had been known to run off with the young of Gray
Back the Weasel and Stripe the Chipmunk.
Bumper’s fears that Killer might cause trouble seemed unfounded,
however, and nothing was heard of Killer for the first day and night.
Everybody seemed so busy finding a home that no one gave any attention
to his coming and going.
Rusty the Blackbird reported that Killer was in the thick woods, but
what he was doing there he could not say. He had kept an eye on him
for a time, and then had to fly away to attend to his own business.
The rest of the birds had not seen him at all, and his presence was
something of a mystery.
On the second day, however, Bumper was returning to a burrow that
he and Fuzzy Wuzz had discovered for their future home, when he was
startled by the plaintive cries of Hermit the Thrush among the bushes.
At first Bumper thought Hermit was talking to her mate, but when the
cries increased he hopped in her direction.
“What’s all the noise about, Hermit?” he called. “Can’t you find a
place for your new home?”
“Oh, Bumper,” exclaimed Hermit, fluttering toward him, “Killer is
trying to rob my nest. I have one egg in it, and he’s going to steal
it.”
Bumper gave a big jump through the bushes, and landed close to the
place where Killer was coiled. Near him was Hermit’s nest in a small
bush just off the ground. A tiny greenish egg was in it.
“Killer, if you break the law of the woods you’ll be punished,” Bumper
exclaimed in anger. “The truce between the animals and birds hasn’t
ended yet.”
Killer turned defiantly upon the white rabbit, and hissed: “Don’t
bother your head, Bumper. This egg doesn’t belong to you. Now run
along, and forget it.”
“You remember what I did to you the other day, Killer,” Bumper replied.
“Well, this time you won’t get off so easily. If you don’t go away
immediately, I’ll call all the birds and animals of the woods to punish
you. They will outlaw you, and be your enemy forever.”
“That wouldn’t be anything new, Bumper,” hissed Killer. “They’re my
enemies now. I’m going to have this egg for my breakfast. I’m mighty
hungry.”
“No, you’re not,” answered Bumper, springing toward him. Killer dodged
back and then shot his head forward as if to strike, but Bumper dodged
and landed on the other side. His idea was to play the same game on
Killer that had been so successful before but they were in a tangled
thicket now, and not out in an open space.
He soon found it impossible to run around Killer in a circle until he
got him dizzy watching. Indeed, Killer had the advantage of him. He
could turn and crawl through the thicket much faster than the rabbit.
Once in his effort to escape the darting head of the snake, Bumper
stumbled and got caught in the bushes. Killer laughed heartily.
“In another minute I’d had you,” he said. “You can’t play that old
trick on me in here. If you don’t look out I’ll get you yet, and choke
you to death. If I once coil my body around you it will be the last
time you’ll interfere with me.”
Bumper began to realize that he was in real danger, for there was
little room in the bushes for him to hop around, and if he got caught
once in the thicket Killer could crawl upon him and strangle him to
death. So he had to be more cautious. He kept at a greater distance,
but made darts at the serpent as if he intended to jump at him. Killer
approached nearer, driving him further and further away from the nest.
“Now come on and fight me,” Killer jeered. “What’s the matter? Are you
afraid of me?”
“Hermit! Hermit!” Bumper called over his shoulder.
When there was no response, Killer laughed at him.
“Hermit’s left you,” he said. “She’s afraid to stay here. She didn’t
think enough of her egg to fight for it, but she let you risk your
life to protect it. Now you see how much friendship amounts to!”
Bumper kept on calling, but Killer was apparently right. Hermit had
left, and was not within hearing distance. Still for the sake of making
Killer observe the truce, Bumper stood his ground, and took every
advantage he could to run in and snap his teeth.
In spite of this the snake drove him away, and then crawled back to
the nest. He reached the bush and started to climb it. Bumper made a
furious rush to frighten him away. Then he stopped. He couldn’t go
forward nor backward. He was caught in the thick bushes, with his plump
body jammed in between two stout saplings and his neck entangled among
briers and bushes.
“Ah! Ha!” exclaimed Killer jubilantly. “You’re caught now, and I’ll
make short work of you. After I’ve strangled you to death, I’ll eat the
egg at my leisure.”
Bumper struggled frantically to get loose, and Killer approached him,
with his forked tongue darting out threateningly. Bumper suddenly felt
weak and faint. The sight of Killer drawing nearer frightened him. He
could neither run away nor protect himself.
It did seem like the last of Bumper. Killer was certain that he had
him, and Bumper thought so too. With his neck caught in the vines,
the rabbit couldn’t even turn to face his enemy. But neither one had
reckoned with Hermit the Thrush.
It is true she had flown away, but not for the purpose of deserting
Bumper. She thought Bumper would keep Killer busy until she could
summon help.
And what a lot of helpers she found! When Killer was within a foot of
Bumper there was a sudden sound of whirring wings, and the forest was
darkened by the flight of birds that swooped down upon them. There were
Rusty the Blackbird and his mate, Singer the Mocking Bird, Piney the
Purple Finch, Belt the Sapsucker, Yellow Breast the Chat, and goodness
knows how many others! It seemed as if all the birds of the North Woods
were there, whistling, calling, crying and shrieking.
Killer looked up and caught sight of this great host, and then ducked
his head. He tried to crawl away and hide in the bushes, but the birds
found him and darted down at him. Their sharp bills caught him in the
head, the body, the tail, and wherever he was the most sensitive.
Killer tried to fight back at first, but there were too many for him.
They attacked him on all sides, and punished him so that he ached and
pained all over. Then he ran, and the birds followed him. Again and
again they pecked him. It was like sticking dozens of needles in his
body.
Finally he discovered a hole in the ground, and disappeared in it, but
not until after he had been wounded so many times that he could not
count them. It was a proper punishment for breaking the truce, and the
birds were glad they had been in time to save Hermit’s egg. They helped
the rabbit to get out of the thicket, and then all talked together and
laughed and sang until the woods echoed with the noise. Next story will
tell of an adventure with Sneaky and Mr. Fox.
STORY XIV
AN ADVENTURE WITH SNEAKY AND MR. FOX
As the end of the two days of truce declared by the animals in the
woods drew near, Bumper was pleased to find that all of his friends
had new homes and were contentedly settled in them. Pink Nose, Rolly
Polly, Crooked Ears and Brindley the Lame had found burrows carefully
hidden in the heart of the forest for their families. Mr. Beaver had
constructed a new dam and a run-way from it to a house in the middle of
the stream. Billy the Mink and Browny the Muskrat had burrowed under
the river’s embankment a most elaborate system of tunnels for their
hiding places.
The birds had likewise found nests for their little ones, some swinging
from the top branches of tall trees, and others hidden under the leaves
on the ground. White Tail the Deer had retired to a lonely part of
the forest for his home; Bobby Gray Squirrel and Stripe the Chipmunk
had made their nests in secret holes in the trees. Even Spotty the
Chameleon was settled, and Lazy the Snail was safe in the mud.
“Everything’s all right now--just as it was before the fire,” remarked
Bumper as he hopped through the woods toward his own burrow, after
making a round of the woods to see if any of his friends were still
homeless. He had made so many friends now that it took him a long time
to visit them in turn, and he was very tired.
When he came to a wide clearing stretching across his path, he stopped
at the edge to look around. He had never been there before, and he was
a little cautious. It might be a trap set for him by the Hunters, and
he sniffed the air to see if the Hounds were near.
Then he hopped across it until he came to a deep hole or pit in the
middle. He wondered what this was for, and stopped at the brink of it
to look down. It was a bare, empty pit, with no sign of a trap near it.
Suddenly from behind there came a rush of small feet, and Mr. Fox
shouted aloud, “Now I’ve got you, Bumper!”
So swiftly had Mr. Fox jumped out of the bushes that Bumper had merely
a second to think. He couldn’t retreat, for Mr. Fox was immediately
behind him. There seemed to be only one thing to do. He took a flying
leap across the pit, hoping to reach the other side in safety.
But it was a wide pit. No rabbit could hop across it. Bumper would
never have tried it if he hadn’t been excited. He missed the other side
by a yard, and tumbled straight into the pit. He landed on the bottom
with a thump, and then looked up. Mr. Fox was grinning down at him.
“I thought you’d do that,” he said. “That’s why I waited until you were
looking in the pit. Your curiosity will cost you dearly, Bumper.”
“But Mr. Fox, the truce isn’t up yet,” pleaded Bumper. “Surely you
won’t break your word of honor.”
“No,” grinned the Fox, “I won’t break my word, but I’ll keep you here
until morning, and then breakfast off you. That wouldn’t be breaking my
word.”
“I don’t intend to stay in here until morning,” replied Bumper.
“How’ll you get out?” laughed the Fox.