A BOARD was floating along on the swollen waters of Black Creek. On it
sat Master Meadow Mouse. He was very happy. He was having his first
ride, of any sort.
"This raft--" he said to himself proudly--"this raft belongs to me. I'll
be a traveler. I'll see the world--at least as far as the big willow at
the lower end of the meadow!"
He scarcely cared to go beyond the big willow. Beyond it lay another
farm. And Master Meadow Mouse had never been off Farmer Green's place in
his whole life. He feared that he might not be able to find his way
back, if he ventured too far from home.
Soon he spied a friend on the bank of the creek. Master Meadow Mouse
cried, "Good-by!" and waved a paw at him.
The person on the bank was one of his many cousins. And when he caught
sight of Master Meadow Mouse he stared hard for a few moments. Then he
shouted, "Don't jump! I'll rescue you." He was already running to the
water's edge when Master Meadow Mouse stopped him.
"I don't want to be rescued," he called. "I'm seeing the world."
His cousin hurried along the bank, still watching the strange sight.
"It seems to me--" he told Master Meadow Mouse--"it seems to me that the
world is seeing you. Where would you hide if Henry Hawk discovered
you?"
[Illustration: Master Meadow Mouse drifted toward Mr. Heron]
Master Meadow Mouse did not answer. To tell the truth, the question set
him to thinking. He had to admit that it might be a bit awkward to find
any cover in case somebody or other made a sudden swoop at him.
"Oh, well!" he said at last. "It can't be helped. There's always _some_
danger in traveling--so I've heard."
His cousin on the bank had stopped running and now stood still and
watched him anxiously until the raft had borne Master Meadow Mouse out
of sight around a bend.
As the flood swung the craft toward the further side of the creek Master
Meadow Mouse beheld a long-legged fisherman standing in the water. Not
only did the fisherman have long legs. He had a long bill as well. And
he was standing like a statue, waiting for a fish to swim past him. A
fish, or a frog, or a mouse! He didn't care which.
Master Meadow Mouse knew him at once. He was Mr. Great Blue Heron--or
plain "G. B." as he preferred to be called. While Master Meadow Mouse
gazed at him in horror Mr. Heron swiftly thrust his spearlike bill into
the water. Even his head went out of sight for a moment.
Mr. Heron did not do that in order to cool his head. Ah, no! When he
pulled his bill out of the creek a pickerel came with it. And the
pickerel vanished very quickly down Mr. Heron's long neck.
It was not a nice sight for Master Meadow Mouse to see, especially when
he was on a pleasure trip. Besides, he noticed with dismay that his raft
was bearing him straight towards the fisherman.
"If I only had some oars, or a rudder, I could steer this old raft away
from him," Master Meadow Mouse thought. But he had nothing of the sort.
Master Meadow Mouse groaned.
"I wish I'd never gone a-traveling!"
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
17