Rough Brother North Wind and Jack Frost were not far behind Honker the
Goose. In a night Peter Rabbit's world was transformed. It had become
a new world, a world of pure white. The last laggard among Peter's
feathered friends who spend the winter in the far-away South had hurried
away. Still Peter was not lonely. Tommy Tit's cheery voice greeted Peter
the very first thing that morning after the storm. Tommy seemed to be in
just as good spirits as ever he had been in summer.
Now Peter rather likes the snow. He likes to run about in it, and so
he followed Tommy Tit up to the Old Orchard. He felt sure that he would
find company there besides Tommy Tit, and he was not disappointed. Downy
and Hairy the Woodpeckers were getting their breakfast from a piece
of suet Farmer Brown's boy had thoughtfully fastened in one of the
apple-trees for them. Sammy Jay was there also, and his blue coat never
had looked better than it did against the pure white of the snow.
These were the only ones Peter really had expected to find in the Old
Orchard, and so you can guess how pleased he was as he hopped over the
old stone wall to hear the voice of one whom he had almost forgotten. It
was the voice of Yank-Yank the Nuthatch, and while it was far from being
sweet there was in it something of good cheer and contentment. At once
Peter hurried in the direction from which it came.
On the trunk of an apple-tree he caught sight of a gray and black and
white bird about the size of Downy the Woodpecker. The top of his head
and upper part of his back were shining black. The rest of his back was
bluish-gray. The sides of his head and his breast were white. The outer
feathers of his tail were black with white patches near their tips.
But Peter didn't need to see how Yank-Yank was dressed in order to
recognize him. Peter would have known him if he had been so far away
that the colors of his coat did not show at all. You see, Yank-Yank was
doing a most surprising thing, something no other bird can do. He was
walking head first down the trunk of that tree, picking tiny eggs of
insects from the bark and seemingly quite as much at home and quite as
unconcerned in that queer position as if he were right side up.
As Peter approached, Yank-Yank lifted his head and called a greeting
which sounded very much like the repetition of his own name. Then he
turned around and began to climb the tree as easily as he had come down
it.
“Welcome home, Yank-Yank!” cried Peter, hurrying up quite out of breath.
Yank-Yank turned around so that he was once more head down, and his eyes
twinkled as he looked down at Peter. “You're mistaken Peter,” said he.
“This isn't home. I've simply come down here for the winter. You know
home is where you raise your children, and my home is in the Great Woods
farther north. There is too much ice and snow up there, so I have come
down here to spend the winter.”
“Well anyway, it's a kind of home; it's your winter home,” protested
Peter, “and I certainly am glad to see you back. The Old Orchard
wouldn't be quite the same without you. Did you have a pleasant summer?
And if you please, Yank-Yank, tell me where you built your home and what
it was like.”
“Yes, Mr. Curiosity, I had a very pleasant summer,” replied Yank-Yank.
“Mrs. Yank-Yank and I raised a family of six and that is doing a lot
better than some folks I know, if I do say it. As to our nest, it was
made of leaves and feathers and it was in a hole in a certain old stump
that not a soul knows of but Mrs. Yank-Yank and myself. Now is there
anything else you want to know?”
“Yes,” retorted Peter promptly. “I want to know how it is that you can
walk head first down the trunk of a tree without losing your balance and
tumbling off.”
Yank-Yank chuckled happily. “I discovered a long time ago, Peter,” said
he, “that the people who get on best in this world are those who make
the most of what they have and waste no time wishing they could
have what other people have. I suppose you have noticed that all
the Woodpecker family have stiff tail feathers and use them to brace
themselves when they are climbing a tree. They have become so dependent
on them that they don't dare move about on the trunk of a tree without
using them. If they want to come down a tree they have to back down.
“Now Old Mother Nature didn't give me stiff tail feathers, but she gave
me a very good pair of feet with three toes in front and one behind
and when I was a very little fellow I learned to make the most of those
feet. Each toe has a sharp claw. When I go up a tree the three front
claws on each foot hook into the bark. When I come down a tree I simply
twist one foot around so that I can use the claws of this foot to keep
me from falling. It is just as easy for me to go down a tree as it is
to go up, and I can go right around the trunk just as easily and
comfortably.” Suiting action to the word, Yank-Yank ran around the trunk
of the apple-tree just above Peter's head. When he reappeared Peter had
another question ready.
“Do you live altogether on grubs and worms and insects and their eggs?”
he asked.
“I should say not!” exclaimed Yank-Yank. “I like acorns and beechnuts
and certain kinds of seeds.”
“I don't see how such a little fellow as you can eat such hard things as
acorns and beechnuts,” protested Peter a little doubtfully.
Yank-Yank laughed right out. “Sometime when I see you over in the Green
Forest I'll show you,” said he. “When I find a fat beechnut I take it
to a little crack in a tree that will just hold it; then with this stout
bill of mine I crack the shell. It really is quite easy when you know
how. Cracking a nut open that way is sometimes called hatching, and
that is how I come by the name of Nuthatch. Hello! There's Seep-Seep. I
haven't seen him since we were together up North. His home was not far
from mine.”
As Yank-Yank spoke, a little brown bird alighted at the very foot of the
next tree. He was just a trifle bigger than Jenny Wren but not at all
like Jenny, for while Jenny's tail usually is cocked up in the sauciest
way, Seep-Seep's tail is never cocked up at all. In fact, it bends down,
for Seep-Seep uses his tail just as the members of the Woodpecker family
use theirs. He was dressed in grayish-brown above and grayish-white
beneath. Across each wing was a little band of buffy-white, and his bill
was curved just a little.
Seep-Seep didn't stop an instant but started up the trunk of that tree,
going round and round it as he climbed, and picking out things to
eat from under the bark. His way of climbing that tree was very like
creeping, and Peter thought to himself that Seep-Seep was well named the
Brown Creeper. He knew it was quite useless to try to get Seep-Seep to
talk, He knew that Seep-Seep wouldn't waste any time that way.
Round and round up the trunk of the tree he went, and when he reached
the top at once flew down to the bottom of the next tree and without
a pause started up that. He wasted no time exploring the branches, but
stuck to the trunk. Once in a while he would cry in a thin little voice,
“Seep! Seep!” but never paused to rest or look around. If he had felt
that on him alone depended the job of getting all the insect eggs and
grubs on those trees he could not have been more industrious.
“Does he build his nest in a hole in a tree?” asked Peter of Yank-Yank.
Yank-Yank shook his head. “No,” he replied. “He hunts for a tree or stub
with a piece of loose bark hanging to it. In behind this he tucks his
nest made of twigs, strips of bark and moss. He's a funny little fellow
and I don't know of any one in all the great world who more strictly
attends to his own business than does Seep-Seep the Brown Creeper. By
the way, Peter, have you seen anything of Dotty the Tree Sparrow?”
“Not yet,” replied Peter, “but I think he must be here. I'm glad you
reminded me of him. I'll go look for him.”