From the decided way in which Jenny Wren had popped into the little
round doorway of her home, Peter knew that to wait in the hope of more
gossip with her would be a waste of time. He wasn't ready to go back
home to the dear Old Briar-patch, yet there seemed nothing else to do,
for everybody in the Old Orchard was too busy for idle gossip. Peter
scratched a long ear with a long hind foot, trying to think of some
place to go. Just then he heard the clear “peep, peep, peep” of the
Hylas, the sweet singers of the Smiling Pool.
“That's where I'll go!” exclaimed Peter. “I haven't been to the
Smiling Pool for some time. I'll just run over and pay my respects to
Grandfather Frog, and to Redwing the Blackbird. Redwing was one of the
first birds to arrive, and I've neglected him shamefully.”
When Peter thinks of something to do he wastes no time. Off he started,
lipperty-lipperty-lip, for the Smiling Pool. He kept close to the edge
of the Green Forest until he reached the place where the Laughing Brook
comes out of the Green Forest on its way to the Smiling Pool in the
Green Meadows. Bushes and young trees grow along the banks of the
Laughing Brook at this point. The ground was soft in places, quite
muddy. Peter doesn't mind getting his feet damp, so he hopped along
carelessly. From right under his very nose something shot up into the
air with a whistling sound. It startled Peter so that he stopped short
with his eyes popping out of his head. He had just a glimpse of a
brown form disappearing over the tops of some tall bushes. Then Peter
chuckled. “I declare,” said he, “I had forgotten all about my old
friend, Longbill the Woodcock. He scared me for a second.”
“Then you are even,” said a voice close at hand. “You scared him. I saw
you coming, but Longbill didn't.”
Peter turned quickly. There was Mrs. Woodcock peeping at him from behind
a tussock of grass.
“I didn't mean to scare him,” apologized Peter. “I really didn't mean
to. Do you think he was really very much scared?”
“Not too scared to come back, anyway,” said Longbill himself,
dropping down just in front of Peter. “I recognized you just as I
was disappearing over the tops of the bushes, so I came right back. I
learned when I was very young that when startled it is best to fly first
and find out afterwards whether or not there is real danger. I am glad
it is no one but you, Peter, for I was having a splendid meal here, and
I should have hated to leave it. You'll excuse me while I go on eating,
I hope. We can talk between bites.”
“Certainly I'll excuse you,” replied Peter, staring around very hard to
see what it could be Longbill was making such a good meal of. But Peter
couldn't see a thing that looked good to eat. There wasn't even a bug
or a worm crawling on the ground. Longbill took two or three steps in
rather a stately fashion. Peter had to hide a smile, for Longbill had
such an air of importance, yet at the same time was such an odd looking
fellow. He was quite a little bigger than Welcome Robin, his tail was
short, his legs were short, and his neck was short. But his bill was
long enough to make up. His back was a mixture of gray, brown, black and
buff, while his breast and under parts were a beautiful reddish-buff. It
was his head that made him look queer. His eyes were very big and they
were set so far back that Peter wondered if it wasn't easier for him to
look behind him than in front of him.
Suddenly Longbill plunged his bill into the ground. He plunged it in for
the whole length. Then he pulled it out and Peter caught a glimpse of
the tail end of a worm disappearing down Longbill's throat. Where that
long bill had gone into the ground was a neat little round hole. For the
first time Peter noticed that there were many such little round holes
all about. “Did you make all those little round holes?” exclaimed Peter.
“Not at all,” replied Longbill. “Mrs. Woodcock made some of them.”
“And was there a worm in every one?” asked Peter, his eyes very wide
with interest.
Longbill nodded. “Of course,” said he. “You don't suppose we would take
the trouble to bore one of them if we didn't know that we would get a
worm at the end of it, do you?”
Peter remembered how he had watched Welcome Robin listen and then
suddenly plunge his bill into the ground and pull out a worm. But the
worms Welcome Robin got were always close to the surface, while these
worms were so deep in the earth that Peter couldn't understand how it
was possible for any one to know that they were there. Welcome Robin
could see when he got hold of a worm, but Longbill couldn't. “Even if
you know there is a worm down there in the ground, how do you know when
you've reached him? And how is it possible for you to open your bill
down there to take him in?” asked Peter.
Longbill chuckled. “That's easy,” said he. “I've got the handiest bill
that ever was. See here!” Longbill suddenly thrust his bill straight
out in front of him and to Peter's astonishment he lifted the end of the
upper half without opening the rest of his bill at all. “That's the way
I get them,” said he. “I can feel them when I reach them, and then I
just open the top of my bill and grab them. I think there is one right
under my feet now; watch me get him.” Longbill bored into the ground
until his head was almost against it. When he pulled his bill out, sure
enough, there was a worm. “Of course,” explained Longbill, “it is only
in soft ground that I can do this. That is why I have to fly away south
as soon as the ground freezes at all.”
“It's wonderful,” sighed Peter. “I don't suppose any one else can find
hidden worms that way.”
“My cousin, Jack Snipe, can,” replied Longbill promptly. “He feeds the
same way I do, only he likes marshy meadows instead of brushy swamps.
Perhaps you know him.”
Peter nodded. “I do,” said he. “Now you speak of it, there is a strong
family resemblance, although I hadn't thought of him as a relative of
yours before. Now I must be running along. I'm ever so glad to have seen
you, and I'm coming over to call again the first chance I get.”
So Peter said good-by and kept on down the Laughing Brook to the Smiling
Pool. Right where the Laughing Brook entered the Smiling Pool there was
a little pebbly beach. Running along the very edge of the water was
a slim, trim little bird with fairly long legs, a long slender bill,
brownish-gray back with black spots and markings, and a white waistcoat
neatly spotted with black. Every few steps he would stop to pick up
something, then stand for a second bobbing up and down in the funniest
way, as if his body was so nicely balanced on his legs that it teetered
back and forth like a seesaw. It was Teeter the Spotted Sandpiper, an
old friend of Peter's. Peter greeted him joyously.
“Peet-weet! Peet-weet!” cried Teeter, turning towards Peter and bobbing
and bowing as only Teeter can. Before Peter could say another word
Teeter came running towards him, and it was plain to see that Teeter was
very anxious about something. “Don't move, Peter Rabbit! Don't move!” he
cried.
“Why not?” demanded Peter, for he could see no danger and could think of
no reason why he shouldn't move. Just then Mrs. Teeter came hurrying up
and squatted down in the sand right in front of Peter.
“Thank goodness!” exclaimed Teeter, still bobbing and bowing. “If you
had taken another step, Peter Rabbit, you would have stepped right on
our eggs. You gave me a dreadful start.”
Peter was puzzled. He showed it as he stared down at Mrs. Teeter just in
front of him. “I don't see any nest or eggs or anything,” said he rather
testily.
Mrs. Teeter stood up and stepped aside. Then Peter saw right in a little
hollow in the sand, with just a few bits of grass for a lining, four
white eggs with big dark blotches on them. They looked so much like the
surrounding pebbles that he never would have seen them in the world
but for Mrs. Teeter. Peter hastily backed away a few steps. Mrs. Teeter
slipped back on the eggs and settled herself comfortably. It suddenly
struck Peter that if he hadn't seen her do it, he wouldn't have known
she was there. You see she looked so much like her surroundings that he
never would have noticed her at all.
“My!” he exclaimed. “I certainly would have stepped on those eggs if you
hadn't warned me,” said he. “I'm so thankful I didn't. I don't see how
you dare lay them in the open like this.”
Mrs. Teeter chuckled softly. “It's the safest place in the world,
Peter,” said she. “They look so much like these pebbles around here
that no one sees them. The only time they are in danger is when somebody
comes along, as you did, and is likely to step on them without seeing
them. But that doesn't happen often.”