NEARER and nearer the board, with Master Meadow Mouse upon it, drifted
around the bend of the creek toward Mr. Great Blue Heron. And at last
Mr. Heron noticed it. And he noticed its passenger, too.
"Ahem!" he said softly to himself. Except for swallowing once or twice,
he never made a move, but stood there in the water and waited. He waited
for Master Meadow Mouse's raft to drift closer; for it was plain to
him--as to Master Meadow Mouse--that the current of Black Creek was
slowly bearing the board straight down upon him. "When it gets near
enough I'll just reach out and pluck that fellow off," Mr. Heron
promised himself with a sort of silent chuckle.
Meanwhile Master Meadow Mouse was having a very bad quarter of an hour.
Slowly though his craft moved, to him it seemed to travel with lightning
speed.
"I'll pass him soon," Master Meadow Mouse thought. "If I crouch down and
make myself as small as possible perhaps he won't see me."
So he hugged the board tight. But the closer he came to Mr. Heron the
bigger and fiercer that gentleman looked.
Suddenly Master Meadow Mouse's courage oozed out through his toes. He
couldn't stay on his raft another second. Springing to his feet, he
scurried to the edge of the board and slipped off it into the water.
At his first move Mr. Heron moved too. He lifted his great wings and
flapped them, tucking his legs under his body at the same time. A half
dozen flaps carried him abreast of the floating board. And there Mr.
Heron let his long legs down into the water until he stood again upon
the bottom of the creek. He scanned the water eagerly, even plunging his
head into it and looking all around. But he couldn't see Master Meadow
Mouse anywhere.
"This is queer," he mumbled. "I knew those fellows were good swimmers.
But I didn't think this one could get away from me so quickly."
Mr. Great Blue Heron waded about the creek for some time, searching
everywhere--or almost everywhere. And while he was searching, the
deserted raft swung off down the creek, hung for a few moments at the
edge of the channel, and then drifted lazily toward shore, where it
lodged at last among the reeds.
The disappointed fisherman returned to his fishing. But it seemed as if
his luck had turned. Not another fish came his way. And being too wise
to expect that another Meadow Mouse would come traveling down the creek
on a raft, Mr. Great Blue Heron at last forsook his sport and sailed
away through the air towards the lake on the other side of Blue
Mountain.
He hadn't been gone a great while when Master Meadow Mouse might have
been seen picking his way along the bank. He was journeying upstream, on
his way home.
"It was lucky for me--" he explained to his cousin, whom he met
later--"it was lucky for me that I could swim under water. Otherwise I
shouldn't have been able to hide beneath the board and stay there until
it swung into the rushes."
"You had a narrow escape," his cousin told him. "Don't say that I didn't
warn you!"
That cousin was one of those persons that always exclaim, "I told you
so!"
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
18