led the others in clapping his paws at the conclusion. While the
excitement was running high, Old Blind Rabbit whispered in Bumper’s ear:
“When you make a friend of your enemy, you have made a friend indeed.
Watch Spotted Tail’s enthusiasm.”
Bumper had already been watching him, and a little glow of pleasure was
in his heart. Even greater than being made king, he thought, was the
winning of Spotted Tail’s loyalty.
“All’s well that ends well,” he murmured.
Of course, Rusty the Blackbird might have doubted the genuineness of
Spotted Tail’s friendship, and so would have Shrike the Butcher Bird,
but that was because they didn’t understand the nature and habits of the
rabbits as Bumper and Old Blind Rabbit did. They knew that Spotted Tail
had changed, and all the envy and hatred had left his heart.
As if to prove this, something happened in the woods a few days later,
which dispelled any doubts that either may have had. Bumper and Spotted
Tail had gone off together in the thickest part of the woods when they
came to an old gravel pit.
This was a deep hole in the ground which had nearly been covered up with
thick weeds and briers. Bumper and Spotted Tail had been hopping along
without thought of danger. Around and over the gravel pit a thick clump
of bushes was growing.
“I think I can take that clump with a big hop,” Bumper remarked,
preparing for a spring.
Spotted Tail glanced up to follow, and then shouted in alarm: “Don’t do
it, Bumper! The gravel pit!”
Spotted Tail had recognized the danger if Bumper should fall short of
his jump, but his warning was too late. Bumper had sprung into the air,
and, just as Spotted Tail had feared, the tops of the bushes interfered
with his leap. Instead of clearing the place, Bumper fell plump through
the mass of weeds into the deep pit.
Down, down he went, scratching his face and body as he fell. Instead of
landing on all four feet as he expected to do, he dropped heavily on one
foot and wrenched his leg.
Spotted Tail heard his groans with alarm. What had happened to Bumper?
He called aloud, and received only groans in reply.
Now perhaps it would have been wiser for Spotted Tail to have run back
to the burrow, and summon help; but he was so worried over the result of
the accident that only one thing occurred to him. He deliberately leaped
into the gravel pit after Bumper. This required a good deal of courage,
for he knew the danger. He recalled stories of how more than one rabbit
in the past had been caught in this natural trap and held there for days
and weeks until nearly famished.
When he landed by the side of Bumper at the bottom of the pit, he found
the king huddled up in a heap, groaning with pain.
“What is it, Bumper?” he asked anxiously.
“I’ve broken my leg or sprained it,” was the reply. “And it pains so
that even a king cannot help moaning.”
“Let me see it,” replied Spotted Tail.
For a long time Spotted Tail rubbed it, and tried to ease the pain.
After a while it grew better, but it was still too lame for Bumper to
stand much weight on it.
“How am I ever going to get out of this hole?” he asked, looking up. “I
can’t jump out of it with this sprained leg.”
“No,” replied Spotted Tail. “No rabbit has ever yet been able to hop out
of the gravel pit. I’m afraid we’re trapped here until the others find
us.”
“Is it so bad as that?”
“Yes, and worse.”
Then Spotted Tail told him the stories of the gravel pit, and of the
many times young rabbits had been caught there.
“It should have been filled in, then, before this,” said Bumper. “When I
get home I’ll give orders to have it filled up.”
“That would be a good idea. But the important question now is, How are
you going to get out?”
“How are you going to get out?” asked Bumper, smiling.
“That doesn’t matter so much if I can get you out.”
“You couldn’t jump to the top?”
“No, no rabbit could—not even you, Bumper.”
“And if we stay here we’ll starve?”
“Unless Mr. Fox happens to discover us, and eats us up. He’s big enough
to scramble down here and out again.”
“It’s a pretty serious position we’re in, then,” mused Bumper.
“I have it!” Spotted Tail exclaimed suddenly. “See that bush fallen in
the hole. The wind must have blown it in here. Now, I’ll climb on it,
and then you climb on my back. I think by standing on my shoulders then
you’ll be able to reach the top and scramble out.”
“But you? How’ll you get out?”
“Oh, I’ll manage it some way.”
This seemed like good advice, and Spotted Tail made his way cautiously
to the highest part of the bush. Then Bumper followed him. Then he
climbed up on Spotted Tail’s back, and stood on his shoulders.
“Now get ready when I raise myself up on my hind legs!” cautioned
Spotted Tail. “You must jump and scramble up before the bush gives way.”
It was quite an acrobatic feat, but they balanced themselves skilfully
until both stood upright on their haunches. “I can’t reach it!”
exclaimed Bumper. “It’s a foot above my head!”
“Jump, then!” exclaimed Spotted Tail. “The bush is sagging down! Quick,
Bumper, jump!”
And Bumper jumped, and scrambled up out of the pit. It was hard work
with his sprained leg, but he reached the top. But Spotted Tail had
fallen back to the bottom, and the bush after him. There was no way he
could get out.
“I’ll run back to the burrow and get help!” Bumper said finally. “We’ll
get you out somehow.”
But the only way they could get Spotted Tail out was to fill in the sand
pit. Bumper hit on this idea after they had tried every other method. By
filling it in Spotted Tail could gradually crawl up higher and higher
until he hopped out.
And Bumper’s method of filling it in was very simple. All the rabbits
turned their faces away from the sand pit and began digging hard with
their hind legs, throwing the dirt and gravel in the pit until it was
nearly on a level with the ground. So the dangerous sand pit was no
longer a trap for the rabbits.
STORY XV
BUMPER MAKES FUZZY WUZZ QUEEN
A king can’t really be happy without a queen. There was never a king yet
that didn’t have one, or, if he lived alone and refused to take a queen,
he was faithless to his people. If you want to find a grouchy king, look
through history for one that never had a queen to advise and soothe him.
Bumper wasn’t thinking so much of doing a great honor to Fuzzy Wuzz in
asking her to be his queen as he was of making himself happy. Fuzzy Wuzz
had become very dear to him. She seemed to understand him, and they were
both happy when they were together.
So one day, when he asked her to be his queen, and help him to preside
over his people, she modestly consented. She thought as much of Bumper
as he did of her. They made an ideal couple. But a king can’t marry
without the consent of his people, and Bumper took up the question with
Old Blind Rabbit first. He was very modest and uncertain about it, and
you can imagine his nervousness.
“A king can marry, Old Blind Rabbit, and bring a queen home with him to
reign by his side, can’t he?” he began.
Old Blind Rabbit showed a little surprise at this question, and after a
while answered: “A queen, O Bumper, is generally selected by the people.
She must be one that they all like.”
“Isn’t the king consulted?” asked Bumper.
“Not always. Of course, sometimes he is, but his choice must be the same
as that of his people.”
“It seems to me, then,” remarked Bumper, “that a king must have a hard
time selecting a queen.”
“He has, O Bumper, and that is one reason why a king isn’t always happy.
He must think of his people first, and of his own happiness second.”
Bumper bowed meekly, and thought once more that being a king was not as
agreeable as he had always thought.
“And if his queen is not the one the people choose,” he added, “what
becomes of her and the king?”
“They’re often dethroned, O Bumper, driven away into exile!” There was a
threat in the Old Blind Rabbit’s voice as he said this. His blind,
sightless eyes seemed to go through Bumper and read his thoughts.
“You wish to select a queen?” continued Blind Rabbit.
Bumper said yes, and blushed the color of his eyes.
Old Blind Rabbit looked distressed. “You should not have thought of
that,” he said severely, “without first consulting your people. I have
already selected a queen for you!”
Bumper’s heart dropped. This blunt announcement took away all his
happiness. Then a slow sense of anger and rebellion came into his mind.
He wasn’t going to submit to any such dictation.
“And I have selected one for myself!” he replied, stubbornly.
“Then you must give her up, O Bumper! The queen the people select must
be the one to reign with you.”
Bumper’s stubborn nature immediately came to the surface. Rather than
give up Fuzzy Wuzz and take a queen that Old Blind Rabbit had chosen for
him, he would abdicate his throne, and leave the woods. He said as much
to Old Blind Rabbit, who was greatly distressed.
“Think well of your words, O Bumper!” he said. “If you disobey the rules
of your people, they will banish you, and drive you into exile. A king
cannot be above his people.”
“I told you that I would banish myself rather than submit to this,” was
the stubborn reply. “I shall choose my own queen or have none. I must
live with her, and not you.”
This outburst of defiance became a king, and in a good cause it would
have received Old Blind Rabbit’s approval; but just now it ran against
his wishes, and he saw nothing but rebellion in it. It was little short
of treason.
“Even if you banish yourself,” Blind Rabbit added angrily, “it does not
follow you will take your queen away with you. She would not follow you
into the woods. She might consent to be your queen here, but not your
wife in exile.”
“Leave that to me,” replied Bumper, confidently. “I know she will follow
me wherever I go.” Then, smiling at a new thought, he added: “I can take
her back to the garden where the red-headed girl lives. She would
welcome us.”
“We may prevent that, O Bumper! We may decide to hold you prisoner. No,
no, we can’t permit such treason. It’s against the laws of the woods.”
Now the argument was waxing strong, and both were getting very angry.
Perhaps they would have parted as enemies if at that very moment Fuzzy
Wuzz hadn’t entered the burrow. Old Blind Rabbit turned to her, and took
one of her paws in his.
“Here is the queen the people have selected for you, O Bumper,” he said.
“And no other will we have.”
For a moment Bumper stared at the couple in surprise. It seemed for a
moment as if Old Blind Rabbit was playing a joke on him. Then it dawned
suddenly upon his mind that they had each chosen the same one to be
queen. He began to laugh so loudly and excitedly that Old Blind Rabbit
felt mortified. Was Bumper making fun of Fuzzy Wuzz?
“This is very unbecoming to you, O Bumper,” he began, and then Bumper
interrupted him.
“No, no, Blind Rabbit!” he protested. “It isn’t that. Don’t you see I’m
laughing because I’m so happy? We have both been very foolish. We got in
hot words for nothing. Now forgive me, and all will be well.”
“I don’t understand,” murmured Old Blind Rabbit.
“I don’t blame you,” interrupted Bumper. “But if you had eyes, and could
see, you would understand. Fuzzy Wuzz is as happy as I am, and you could
tell it by her eyes.”
Then solemnly, he added: “Old Blind Rabbit, the queen my people have
selected is the one I chose. Fuzzy Wuzz is the one I meant to have, or
none. Now do you understand?”
It really took Old Blind Rabbit some minutes to understand it fully, and
then a gleam of happiness swept across his face. “O Bumper,” he
exclaimed with emotion, “your reign will be a happy one, and a joy to my
people. Long may the king live! And long may the queen live with him!”
He was so excited, and his voice was raised so high, that all the other
rabbits came running in the burrow to see what the trouble was, and when
they learned the news they set up a joyful squeal of approval. They
would now have a queen of their own selection as well as a king.
This time Rusty the Black Bird, Piney the Purple Finch, Mr. Crested
Flycatcher, and all the other birds of the woods agreed to carry the
message to the rabbits of the different burrows. They flew with swift
wings in all directions to announce the wedding of Bumper and Fuzzy
Wuzz, inviting White Tail, Pink Nose, Crooked Ears, Brindley the Lame
and all the others to the feast.
For days and days the woods rang with happy laughter and merry talk.
Every one seemed to be happy. Even Mr. Fox and Buster the Bear were
excited, for who could help it when so many others were looking forward
to the crowning of Fuzzy Wuzz as queen?
And of their reign in the woods you will hear later in other stories,
for they lived happily as king and queen for a good many years, and they
had adventures which you might guess were more exciting than any you
have yet heard. In the land of rabbits they speak of time as having
begun in the reign of King Bumper and Queen Fuzzy Wuzz, and they had
good reason to date their calendars from that year, as you will see
later when you have heard more about them in the book entitled
“Bumper the White Rabbit and His Foes.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
WASHER THE RACCOON
STORY ONE
WASHER’S FIRST ADVENTURE
Washer was the youngest of a family of three Raccoons, born in the woods
close to the shores of Beaver Pond, and not half a mile from Rocky Falls
where the water, as you know, turns into silvery spray that sparkles in
the sunshine like diamonds and rubies. And, indeed, the animals and
birds of the North Woods much prefer this glittering spray and foam that
rise in a steady cloud from the bottom of the falls to all the jewels
and gems ever dug out of the earth! For, though each drop sparkles but a
moment, and then vanishes from sight, there are a million others to
follow it, and when you bathe in them they wash and scour away the dirt,
and make you clean and fresh in body and soul.
Washer had his first great adventure at Rocky Falls, and it is a wonder
that he ever lived to tell the tale, for the water which flows over the
falls is almost as cruel and terrible as it is sparkling and inviting.
But
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BUSTER THE BIG BROWN BEAR
STORY I
WHEN BUSTER WAS A CUB
In the North Woods where Buster was born, a wide river tinkles merrily
over stones that are so white you’d mistake them for snowballs, if you
were not careful, and begin pelting each other with them. The birches
hanging over the water look like white sticks of peppermint candy,
except in the spring of the year when they blossom out in green leaves,
and then they make you think of fairyland where everything is painted
the colors of the rainbow.
The rocks that slope up from the bank of the river are dented and broken
as if some giant in the past had smashed them with his hammer, cracking
some and punching deep holes in others. It was in one of these holes, or
caves, that Buster was born.
He didn’t mind the hard rocky floor of his bed a bit, nor did he mind
the darkness, nor the cold winds that swept through the open doorway. He
was so well protected by his
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BUSTER THE BIG BROWN BEAR’S ADVENTURES
STORY I
BUSTER VISITS HIS BIRTHPLACE
Buster’s return to the North Woods, after his many travels in different
parts of the country as a trick bear in a circus, was an important event
to him. He had been away so long—ever since he was a little cub—that
nothing seemed familiar to him. His recollection of the river that
flowed in front of the cave where he had been born was very dim and
uncertain, and he was not sure which way to go when he had crossed it.
Browny the Woodchuck had informed him that he was in the North Woods
when he waded up on shore, but Browny had an important engagement with
his family, and immediately left him. Happy and excited that he was now
free in the woods, and no longer in danger of being pursued and
captured, Buster for a time was satisfied in roaming around in the
bushes, eating the wild fruit and berries.
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WHITE TAIL THE DEER
STORY I
WHITE TAIL’S FIRST LESSON
High among the timberland of the North Woods White Tail the Deer was
born, and if you had stumbled upon his home in the thickets you would
have been surprised by a noise like the rushing of the wind, and then by
a very remarkable silence that could almost be felt. The first was made
by Mother White Tail as she deserted her young and took to quick flight.
White Tail, crouching low down in the bushes, so still that he scarcely
moved a hair, would hide his beautiful head in the branches and leaves
like an obedient child. Left alone he knew that his one chance of escape
was not to move or whimper or cry.
That was the first lesson White Tail was taught by his mother—to keep
absolutely quiet in the presence of danger. When he was so small that he
could hardly hold up his head, she whispered to him: “Listen, White
Tail! When I give the signal that the hunters are coming, you must
flatten yourself down
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WHITE TAIL THE DEER
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WHITE TAIL’S ADVENTURES
STORY I
WHITE TAIL JUMPS STEPPING STONE BROOK
White Tail grew rapidly in size and strength, his long, clean limbs
showing taut muscles and great springing power; and his neck grew thick
and short, which is well for a buck, who must use it in savage thrusts
when the head is a battering ram. His horns were short and bony, but
they protruded in front like knobs against which it would be unpleasant
to fall.
But his antlers were his pride. They spread out fan-shape on his head,
crowning it with a glory that made Mother Deer supremely happy. At times
it seemed as if the antlers were too heavy for the head and neck, but
White Tail carried them easily, and when he shook them in sport or anger
any one could see they were just fitted to him.
In time he stood as high as Father Buck, and a head taller than Mother
Deer. The day the tip of his antlers reached an inch above Father
Buck’s, he felt a little thrill of pride.
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BOBBY GRAY SQUIRREL
BOBBY’S INTRODUCTION
There are many squirrels living in the North Woods, but only one real
Bobby Gray Squirrel, and if you saw him once you would never mistake him
for any other. Bobby was a gay, rollicking happy-go-lucky fellow, who
believed in enjoying himself to-day and letting the morrow take care of
itself. He wasn’t exactly lazy, but he didn’t believe in doing work that
wasn’t actually necessary, and sometimes, I’m afraid, he forgot to do
what was really necessary.
Bobby had many friends in the woods, and they all liked him and smiled
at him, but there were some who thought his careless ways might get him
in trouble some day. So instead of chattering pleasantly with him, they
shook their heads and preached to him.
“Why don’t you get busy these pleasant days, Bobby, and store up food
for the winter?” Gray Back the Weasel asked reprovingly one bright,
sunny day.
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BOBBY GRAY SQUIRREL’S ADVENTURES
STORY I
AN ADVENTURE WITH DASHER THE HAWK
When Bobby Gray Squirrel left the deserted house where he had spent the
winter with Stripe the Chipmunk and Web the Flying Squirrel, not to
mention White Foot the Deer Mouse, he was in a very serious mood, and
his first thought was to go right to work to build a home for himself in
some friendly tree, and stock it early with nuts for winter use.
His experience that winter, before he had found his fortune in the bag
of nuts in the tower room, had made him very thoughtful. “I’m not going
to put off work again that should be done to-day,” he said to himself as
he frisked along from tree to tree. “I can’t expect to have such good
luck another winter. But my!”—smiling in recollection—“those nuts were
delicious!”
He smacked his lips at the thought, and right on top of it came the low
trill of a bird. It was Goldy the Oriole, who had just returned north.
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BUMPER THE WHITE RABBIT AND HIS FOES
STORY I
BUMPER PLANS TO FIGHT HIS ENEMIES
Now in the reign of King Bumper and Queen Fuzzy Wuzz many things
happened in the woods that made exciting times for the wild rabbits and
their friends. They came to pass in the first year of their reign, for
Bumper the white rabbit was not content to be idle when his people were
surrounded by so many enemies that their lives were never safe.
Some kings just eat and drink and make merry the live long day, and
forget all about duty; but lots of such kings have lost their thrones,
and others who have ruled wisely have been blessed with many friends,
and when they died all the people mourned their loss.
Bumper the white rabbit intended to be a good and wise ruler, and
therefore he spent much time in trying to think of ways to help his wild
cousins of the woods. The story of how he escaped from the garden owned
by the
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BUMPER THE WHITE RABBIT AND HIS FRIENDS
STORY I
BUMPER AND SLEEPY THE OPOSSUM
Bumper, after working hard to trick his enemies so they would be more
afraid of the rabbits in the woods, had decided the ways of peace were
better than those of war. Not that he was going to permit Sneaky the
Wolf or Loup the Lynx to pounce upon his people and eat them up without
fighting, but instead of going around with a chip on his shoulder,
expecting and looking for trouble, he intended to make friends of all
the animals and birds, and be helpful to them.
It is wonderful how much good to others we can overlook if we go about
with our eyes shut. There is plenty to do if we look for it. So Bumper
found in a short time that he had missed a good deal in always looking
for the worst in others instead of for the best.
Only a few days after his change of plans, which was told of in a former
book, Bumper stumbled upon Sleepy the Opossum in a tree, with his eyes
closed in slumber. At first he
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Bumper the White Rabbit
STORY I
WHERE BUMPER CAME FROM
There was once an old woman who had so many rabbits that she hardly knew
what to do. They ate her out of house and home, and kept the cupboard so
bare she often had to go to bed hungry. But none of the rabbits suffered
this way. They all had their supper, and their breakfast, too, even if
there wasn’t a crust left in the old woman’s cupboard.
There were big rabbits and little rabbits; lean ones and fat ones;
comical little youngsters who played pranks upon their elders, and
staid, serious old ones who never laughed or smiled the livelong day;
boy rabbits and girl rabbits, mother rabbits and father rabbits, and
goodness knows how many aunts, uncles, nephews, nieces, cousins, second
cousins and distant relatives-in-law! They all lived under one big roof
in the
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BUMPER THE WHITE RABBIT
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THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY, Publishers
517 S. Wabash Ave. Winston Building 129 Spadina Ave.
CHICAGO, ILL. PHILADELPHIA, PA. TORONTO, ONT.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s note:
1. Silently corrected typographical errors.
2. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.
3. Changed “What had happened to Bumper!” to “What had happened to
Bumper?” on p. 101.