WINKIE IN A STORM
Winkie, the wily woodchuck, was so frightened at the sight of the
dog――even more frightened than she had been at the distant blasting
explosion――that she ran on and on through the woods, scarcely looking
where she was going. Racing in this way, not keeping watch, caused
Winkie to bump into a tree full tilt!
Bang! she slammed against it, so hard that she was thrown down and lay,
for a moment, stunned amid the leaves.
It was a good thing that Don was a kind dog, and not a savage one
belonging to Farmer Tottle. And it is also a good thing Don was not a
wolf or a fox. For had he been either of these he could easily have
caught Winkie in his teeth when she fell back, stunned by her crash
into the tree.
But Don did not do this thing. Instead, he went gently up to Winkie as
she lay amid the leaves, smelled her fur, and barked in a low tone.
“Oh, please don’t bite me! Please don’t!” begged Winkie.
“Bite you? Nonsense! I never thought of such a thing!” cried Don. “Why
did you run away?”
“Because you chased me,” answered Winkie, her heart not beating so fast
now, when she found that nothing had yet happened to her. She was so
plump and so covered with fur that running into the tree had not done
her any more harm than to knock her breath from her for a moment or two.
“How foolish! I didn’t chase you!” declared Don. “I was just running
after you to tell you what a book is.”
“What is a book?” asked Winkie, and Don told her as well as he could
for a dog who couldn’t himself read.
“A book,” he barked, “is a sort of long story of adventures.”
“I know what adventures are,” said Winkie. “They’re things that happen
to you.”
“Yes,” agreed Don. “And you have had an adventure this morning.”
“You mean all our family getting lost?” asked Winkie.
“I didn’t hear about that,” said Don. “But that’s an adventure too.
No, I meant running away from me and bumping into a tree. That was an
adventure.”
[Illustration: Caused Winkie to bump into a tree full tilt!]
“Not a very pleasant one,” remarked Winkie, smiling.
“Oh, well, there are all sorts of adventures,” said Don. “I have had
very many, and they have been put into a book about me, just as have
those of Toto, the bustling beaver, about whom I heard you speaking.”
“Have you had adventures?” asked Winkie.
“I should say I have!” barked Don. “Say,” he went on, “did you ever
meet Squinty, the comical pig?”
“No, I never did,” answered Winkie. “Who is he?”
“Oh, a jolly chap. Did you ever meet Slicko, the jumping squirrel?”
“No, not that I know of. Where is Slicko?”
“Somewhere in these woods, I think. You’ll probably meet Slicko sooner
or later. And then there is Mappo, and there’s Tum Tum.”
“Who are they?”
“Animals who have had adventures and been put in books,” answered Don.
“Mappo is a merry monkey, and Tum Tum is a jolly elephant. I hope you
meet them some day.”
“I hope so, too,” said Winkie. “But just now I should like to meet my
father and mother and Blinkie and Blunk. Have you seen them?”
“No, I am sorry to say I have not,” answered Don. “But don’t worry,
you may find them, also. And I’m sure you will have lots of adventures.
You are sort of running away, you know.”
“Yes, I ran away from that big noise,” admitted Winkie. “But what has
that to do with it?”
“Running away always brings adventures,” answered Don. “At least it did
to me. I was once a runaway dog. But I was glad to get back again, and
I am very happy now.”
“Are you one of the farmer’s dogs that barked at my father and mother?”
asked Winkie.
“No,” replied Don. “I never bark at woodchucks. I like them, and
so does my master, who is very kind. But some men don’t like you
ground-hogs, and they are always sending their dogs after you. They
also set traps――those men do.”
“What are traps?” asked Winkie.
“Ha! There you go again――more questions!” chuckled the dog. “Well, I
can tell you one thing――traps are very good things to keep out of. Once
I caught my paw in a trap, and I was lame for a month after it. Keep
away from traps, Winkie!”
“I’ll try!” promised the wily woodchuck. But she did not know what was
soon going to happen to her.
So much talk seemed to make Winkie hungry, and, seeing some grass
growing under a tree, she began to nibble the green blades.
“Why don’t you eat something,” she asked Don. “This grass is very sweet
and good.”
“Thank you; but we dogs don’t eat grass,” Don answered. “That is unless
we take it as medicine when we aren’t feeling well. But I feel fine
now――I don’t need grass, but I would like a juicy bone. And speaking of
bones makes me hungry. I think I’ll trot to my kennel and get a bone.”
“What’s a kennel?” asked Winkie.
“My! I never knew any one to ask as many questions as you, unless it
might be Mappo, the merry monkey,” barked Don. “A kennel is a house in
which I live.”
“We call our house a burrow,” said Winkie. “Only we haven’t any now.”
“It wouldn’t do for all of us to live in the same kind of houses,” Don
said. “I’d feel rather silly in a nest, and yet a nest is a home for
a bird. Well, I’m going to trot along, Winkie. I hope I shall see you
soon again.”
“I hope so too,” murmured Winkie, who knew that she was going to be
lonely when Don went away.
Don started off, wagging his tail in a friendly farewell to Winkie. She
was watching him and did not notice where she was walking until, all
of a sudden, she felt herself falling into a hole with a lot of leaves
and sticks.
“Oh! Oh!” cried Winkie. “Help me, Don! I’m in a trap!”
With a bark Don bounded back, and, with his paws, he helped Winkie up
out of the hole.
“That wasn’t a trap,” he said. “You can’t get out of traps as easily as
that. You just fell into a hole where once there was a stump or stone.
The hole was covered with dried leaves and you didn’t see it, I guess.
“Some traps are like that, and others are like a box that shut you up
tight. Other traps have strong, sharp teeth that snap shut on your leg.
That’s the kind of trap I was once in.”
“I hope nothing like that happens to me!” sighed Winkie, and Don hoped
the same.
“Now I must go,” said the dog, when he found the little woodchuck girl
was all right. “See you later! Good-bye!” And soon he was lost to sight
among the trees.
Poor Winkie felt very lonely now, for, having talked to Toto, the
beaver, and to Don, the dog, she began to have a very friendly feeling
for these animals.
But she was a brave little thing, as well as wily and smart, and she
began to feel that she must look after herself now, since it might be
many days before she would find her family in the big woods.
Sitting down and crying about things never makes them any better, and
Winkie was not going to do this. Instead she felt that she must find
some place to stay during the night, which she knew would come when the
sun went down.
“But first I am going to see if I can’t find my family,” thought
Winkie. “There’s no sense in giving up so soon. I’ll make believe we
have been playing hide-and-seek and I’ve got to find them so I won’t be
it.”
She had often played this game, and it was not hard to imagine she
was doing it again. On through the woods she wandered, now and then
stopping to listen or to call. She cried the names of Blinkie and Blunk
as loudly as she could, and also shouted for her father and mother.
But the only answers she heard were the sighing of the wind in the
trees, the murmur of the brooks as they flowed over the green, mossy
stones, and the songs of the birds. To the birds Winkie spoke, for she
could talk their language, and she asked them if they had seen anything
of her father, mother, Blinkie or Blunk.
“You birds fly high above the trees,” said Winkie, “and you can look
down and see many things I can not see. Please help me look for my
people.”
“We will!” sang the birds. So they flew here and there, peering down
through the tree branches. But they did not get a glimpse of any of the
woodchucks. For, truth to tell, the other four ground-hogs had run away
at the time Winkie had, and now they were all scattered. Blinkie, Blunk
and Mr. and Mrs. Woodchuck were separated one far from the other, and
as much lost as was Winkie herself.
Later on the four woodchucks found each other and made a new home for
themselves, but Winkie did not know this for a long time, and not until
after she had had many adventures about which I must tell you.
For several days Winkie wandered through the woods, all alone except
that once or twice she met Toto, and again, she spied Don. But the dog
was walking with his master and he did not come near Winkie. For this
the woodchuck girl was glad, for she was afraid of men, even of one as
kind as Don’s master seemed to be.
Look as the fluttering birds did, they found no trace of Winkie’s
relatives, and they told the woodchuck girl this.
One day, as Winkie was wandering about, she suddenly heard a noise in
the bushes. She was going to run and hide, thinking it might be a wolf
or a fox, when a jolly voice grunted:
“Don’t be afraid, little ground-hog girl, I won’t hurt you!”
“Who are you?” asked Winkie.
“Squinty, the comical pig,” was the answer.
“Oh, I have heard Don speak of you,” said Winkie, as the pig came
rooting his way through the underbrush.
“Yes, Don and I are friends,” Squinty replied. “But you had better find
a good place to stay to-night, Winkie.”
“Why?” asked the wily woodchuck.
“Because there is going to be a big storm,” was the pig’s answer. “I
am going back to my pen. I really oughtn’t to have come out, but I get
tired of staying shut up so much, and, once in a while, I root my way
out with my rubbery nose. But I’m going back now before I am caught in
the storm, and you, also, had better find a place of shelter.”
“Thank you; I’ll look for one,” said Winkie.
She went on a little farther, after bidding good-bye to Squinty. All at
once, she heard a sound in a tree over her head.
“Oh,” cried Winkie, “is that one of the birds come to tell me he has
found my family?”
“No, I’m not a bird,” was the answer; “though I stay in the trees a
great deal of the time. I am Slicko, the jumping squirrel. I know
you, Winkie. Don told me about you. Have you a good place to stay this
night?”
“No, I have no home,” sadly answered Winkie.
“Then you had better stay in this hollow tree,” said Slicko kindly,
pointing to one near by. “There is going to be a big storm, and you
will be frightened if you are out in it. I can always tell when a storm
is coming, hours before it gets here.”
“That’s what Squinty said,” remarked Winkie.
“Oh, do you know that comical pig?” asked the jumping squirrel. “Isn’t
he funny?”
“I don’t know him very well. I just met him,” answered the wily
woodchuck. “But he seemed very kind. And thank you for telling me about
the hollow tree.”
“Don’t mention it!” chattered the squirrel. “We animals must be kind to
one another. I hope you’ll rest well. I have my nest higher up in this
same tree.”
“Then we shall be company for each other in the night,” said Winkie.
She found the hollow tree to which Slicko had pointed. Inside were some
dried leaves, which would make a soft bed for the woodchuck girl. When
night came Winkie crawled in and went to bed, and up higher in the tree
she could see Slicko crawling into a hole where the squirrel’s nest
was made.
Winkie slept very well the first part of the night, even though the
wind sighed and moaned among the trees. Then, all of a sudden, she was
awakened by a great flash of light and a loud crashing sound.
“Oh! Oh!” cried Winkie. “The farmer and his dogs are after us again!
He’s going to shut us up in the burrow again!”
“No, this is no farmer!” chattered Slicko. “This is a big storm, with
thunder, lightning and rain! I’m afraid this tree will blow down! Look
out, Winkie!”
Before Winkie could crawl out of her bed of leaves in the lower hollow
place there was another blinding flash of light and a great thundering
sound, following by a cracking noise.
“Oh, the tree is struck! The tree is falling!” cried Slicko. “Save
yourself, Winkie!”
A moment later the wily woodchuck found herself tossed out into the
storm.