ONE afternoon (it was not a “story” afternoon,
for the grandmother was very busy, dyeing
some of her homespun yarn) Toto went off to the
forest early, intending to have a game of scamper
with Coon and Cracker. As he sauntered along
with his hands in his pockets, he met the woodchuck.
Master Chucky looked very spruce and
neat, and was trotting along with an air of great
self-satisfaction.
“Hallo! you Chucky,” exclaimed Toto, “where
are you going?”
The woodchuck stopped, and glanced around
with his sharp little eyes. “Is any one with you,
Toto?” he asked,—“Coon, or Cracker, or any of
those fellows?”
“No,” answered Toto in some surprise. “I was
just going to find them. Do you want them?”
“No, indeed!” exclaimed the woodchuck. “You
see,” and he lowered his voice confidentially, “I
am going to a rinktum, and I don’t want those
fellows to know about it.”
“What is a rinktum?” asked Toto. “And
why don’t you want them to know about it?”
“Why, a rinktum is a rabbit’s ball, of course.
What else should it be?” answered Chucky. “The
rabbits have invited me; but at the last one Coon
ate up all the supper, and bit the rabbits if they
tried to get any; so they determined not to invite
him again, and asked me not to say anything
about it.”
“Oh, Chucky,” exclaimed Toto, “I wish you
would take me! I have never been to a rabbit’s
ball, and I should like to go _so_ much! and I
wouldn’t eat anything at all!” he added, seeing
that the woodchuck looked doubtful.
Chucky brightened up at the last remark, and
said, “Well, after all, I don’t see why I shouldn’t
take you. They are always glad to see people, if
they will only behave themselves. So come along,
Toto;” and the fat little creature hurried along,
with Toto following him.
“You may have some difficulty,” he said as they
went along, “in getting into the ball-room, but I
think you will be able to squeeze through. It is
in the Big Burrow, which is certainly large enough
for any reasonable creature. Here we are now at
the mouth of the burrow.”
They were crossing a rough, uneven meadow,
with trees and shrubs thickly scattered over it;
and the woodchuck stopped at a large juniper-bush,
in front of which sat a black rabbit.
“How do you do, Woodchuck?” inquired the
rabbit. “And who is this with you?”
“This is a—a—a boy, in fact,” said the woodchuck
in some embarrassment. “He is a great
friend of mine, and has never seen a rinktum in his
life, so I ventured to bring him. He—he won’t
eat anything!” he added in a whisper.
The rabbit bowed to Toto by way of reply, and
pulling aside the branches of the juniper-bush,
disclosed a large hole in the ground.
“Follow me,” said the woodchuck; “I will lead
the way.” And he disappeared through the mouth
of the hole.
Toto dropped on his hands and knees, and followed
as best he could. The path was _very_ narrow,
and wound about and about in a very inconvenient
manner. Several times the boy was stuck so fast
that it seemed as if he _could not_ get any farther;
but he always managed, by much wriggling, to
squeeze through the tight places. It was perfectly
dark, but there was no possibility of his losing his
way, for obvious reasons. At last he saw a glimmer
of light ahead. It grew brighter and brighter;
and at last Toto emerged from the passage, and
found himself in a large cave, which in one part
was high enough to allow him to stand upright.
He immediately crawled over to this part, and
getting on his feet, looked about at the strange
scene before him.
The Big Burrow was lighted by the United
Company of Glow-worms. These little creatures
had arranged themselves in patterns all over the
walls and roof of the cave, and were shining
with all their might. The effect was truly lovely,
and Toto could not help wishing that his
grandmother’s cottage were lighted in the same
way. The floor was crowded with rabbits of
every size and color, and they were all dancing.
Black rabbits, brown rabbits, white rabbits, big
and little rabbits, racing round and round, jumping
up and down, shaking their ears, and wiggling
their noses. Oh, what a good time they were
having!
“Would you like to dance?” asked a very large
white rabbit, who seemed to be the master of
ceremonies, looking up at Toto.
“Thank you,” said Toto. “I do not know the
step, and I should only make confusion among
the dancers, I fear.”
“Oh, you will have no difficulty in learning
the step,” said the white rabbit. “Nothing could
be easier: first you jump up, then wriggle your
hind-legs in the air, then turn round three times,
rub your nose with your right fore-paw, jump
again, rub your nose with your left hind-paw,
turn round—”
“But I have only two legs,” objected Toto
meekly.
“Would you like to dance?”
“Dear, dear!” said the master of ceremonies.
“That does seem to be a difficulty, doesn’t it?
What a pity! Haven’t you ever had any
more?”
“No,” said Toto. “We are not made that way,
you see. But don’t mind me,” he added, seeing
that the hospitable rabbit seemed really distressed.
“I only came to look on, and I am enjoying myself
very much indeed, I assure you.”
“Pretty sight, isn’t it, Toto?” said the woodchuck,
bustling up, while the master of ceremonies
went off to attend to his duties. “See that
young white rabbit with the black nose and tail?
She is the belle of the evening, I should say.
Lovely creature! I have just danced twice with
her.”
“What _is_ that brown rabbit doing?” exclaimed
Toto. “He has been standing on his head before
her, and now he is lying on his back and kicking
his feet in the air. I think he is in a fit.”
“No, no,” said the woodchuck. “Oh, no. He is
merely expressing his devotion to her, that is all.
He has been in love with her for a long time,”
he added, “but I don’t think it will ever come to
anything. He has no whiskers to speak of, and
he comes from a very inferior sort of burrow.
She ought not to dance with him at all, in point
of fact, but she is _so_ amiable!”
“It is a pity they have no music,” said Toto.
“I don’t see how they manage to dance. Would
they like me to whistle for them, do you think,
Chucky?”
“Oh, _wouldn’t_ they!” cried the woodchuck in
delight. “What a nice boy you are, Toto! I am
_so_ glad I brought you!”
So Toto whistled a merry tune, and the rabbits
nearly went mad with delight. They capered,
and jumped, and wriggled their hind-legs, and
rubbed their noses, till Toto really thought they
would dance themselves into small pieces; and
when he stopped, they all tumbled down on the
ground in little black and white and brown heaps,
and lay panting and exhausted.
The master of ceremonies came up to Toto,
and after making him nine very polite bows,
thanked him warmly for the pleasure he had
given them. “This is certainly _the_ rinktum of
the season,” he said, “and much of its success is
owing to your kindness.” He then begged Toto
to come into the supper-room, and led the way
to an adjoining cave.
Toto followed, with a comical glance at the
woodchuck, to remind him that he had not forgotten
his promise.
The supper was served in superb style, worthy
of “_the_ rinktum of the season.” There was cabbage-soup
and broccoli broth. There were turnips
and carrots, celery and beets and onions, in
profusion; and in the centre of the room rose a
lofty mountain of crisp green lettuce. Ah! that
was a supper to do a rabbit’s heart good!
Toto, mindful of his promise, showed great
self-denial with regard to the raw vegetables, and
even remained firm against the attractions of the
cabbage-soup.
The white rabbit was quite melancholy over his
guest’s persistent refusal to eat of his good cheer.
“But perhaps,” he said, “creatures of your race
never eat. I see that your nose does not wiggle
when you speak, so perhaps you cannot
eat, eh?”
“Oh, yes,” said Toto in an off-hand way. “Yes,
we _can_; and sometimes we _do_. I have eaten in
the course of my life, and I may do it again, but
not to-night.”
At this moment the guests all came pouring
into the supper-room; and Toto began to think
that it would be wise for him to slip away quietly,
as it must be near his own supper-time, and his
grandmother would be wondering where he was.
So he took a friendly leave of the master of ceremonies,
and nodding to the woodchuck, he left
the supper-room, made his way through the ball-room,
and dropping once more on his hands and
knees, proceeded to wriggle his way as best he
might through the underground passage.
A very grimy and dusty boy he was when he
came out again from behind the juniper-bush.
He shook himself as well as he could, laughed a
little over the recollection of the unsuccessful rabbit
suitor kicking his heels in the air to express
his devotion, and started on his way home.
He had spent a much longer time than he had
meant to at the rinktum, and it was growing quite
dark. He hurried along, for his way lay through
a part of the wood where he did not like to go
after dark. The owls lived there, and Toto did
not like the owls, because none of his friends
liked them. They were surly, growly, ill-tempered
birds, and were apt to make themselves very
disagreeable if one met them after dark. Indeed,
it was said that Mrs. Growler, the old grandmother
owl of the family, had once eaten several
of Cracker’s brothers and sisters. The squirrel
did not like to talk about it, but Toto knew that
he hated the owls bitterly.
“I hope I shall not meet any of them,” said the
boy to himself as he entered the wood. “I am
not afraid of them, of course,—it would be absurd
for a boy to be afraid of an owl,—but I don’t like
them.”
The thought had scarcely crossed his mind,
when he heard a sound of flapping wings; and a
moment after a huge white owl flew down directly
in front of him, and spreading its broad pinions,
completely barred his passage.
“Who?” said the owl.
“‘Who?’ said the owl. ‘Toto,’ said the boy.”
“Toto,” said the boy shortly. “Let me pass,
please. I’m in a hurry.”
“You’re late!” said the owl severely.
“I know it,” replied Toto. “That’s why I
asked you to let me pass. I don’t want to talk to
you, Mrs. Growler, and I don’t suppose you want
to talk to me.”
“Whit!” cried Mrs. Growler (for it was no
other than that redoubtable female). “Don’t give
me any of your impudence, sir! What do you
mean by coming into our wood after dark, and
then insulting me? Here, Hoots! Flappy! Horner!
Come here, all of you! Here’s this imp
of a boy who’s always making mischief here with
that thieving raccoon. Let us give him a lesson,
and teach him to stay where he belongs, and not
come spying and prying into our wood!”
Immediately a rushing sound was heard from
all sides, and half-a-dozen owls came hooting and
screaming around our hero.
Toto held his ground manfully, though he saw
that the odds were greatly against him. One owl
was all very well; but seven or eight owls, all
armed with powerful beaks and claws, and all
angry, were quite another matter, especially as
the darkness, which exactly suited them, made it
difficult for him to tell in which direction he
should beat his retreat, supposing he were able
to beat it at all.
He set his back against a tree, and faced the
hooting, flapping crowd, whose great round eyes
glared fiercely at him.
“I’ve never done any harm to any of you,”
he said boldly. “I’ve never thrown stones at you,
and I’ve never taken more than one egg at a
time from your nests. You have always hated me,
Mother Growler, because I am a friend of Coon;
and you’re afraid of Coon, you know you are.
Come, let me go home quietly, and I’ll promise
not to come into your part of the wood again.
“I’m sure, there’s no inducement for coming,”
he added in a lower tone. “It’s the scraggiest
part of the whole forest,—only fit for owls to live
in!”
“Hoo! hoo!” cried Mother Growler in a rage.
“I’m afraid of Coon, am I? A nasty, thieving
creature, with an amount of tail that is simply disgusting!
And our wood is scraggy, is it? Hoo!
Give it to him, children!”
“Peck him!” cried all the owls in chorus;
“scratch him! tear him! hustle him!” and, with
wings and claws spread, they came flying at Toto.
Toto put one arm before his face, and prepared
to defend himself as well as he could with the other.
His blood was up, and he had no thought of
trying to escape. If he could only get Mother
Growler by the head now, and wring her neck!
But blows were falling like hail on his own head
now,—sharp blows from horny beaks and crooked
talons. They were tearing his jacket off. He
was dazed, almost stunned, by the beating of the
huge wings in his face. Decidedly, our Toto is in
a bad way.
Suddenly a loud crackling noise was heard
among the bushes. It came nearer; it grew louder.
Toto listened, with his heart in his mouth. Surely,
but one animal there was big enough to make a
noise like that.
“_Bruin!_” he cried, with all the breath he could
gather, panting and struggling as he was. “Bruin!
help! help!”
A portentous growl answered his cry. The
boughs crackled and burst right and left, and the
next instant the bear sprang through the bushes.
“What is it?” he cried. “Toto, that was your
voice. Where are you, boy? What is the
matter?”
“Here!” cried Toto faintly. “Here, Bruin!
The owls—” But at that moment the little
fellow’s voice failed, and he sank bleeding and
exhausted on the ground.
“How-grrrrr-wow-_wurra_-Wurra-WURRA-WOW!!!”
In two minutes more there were no owls in that
part of the wood. Hoots, Horner, and the rest,
when they saw the fiery eyes and glittering teeth
of the bear, and heard his terrible roar, as he
rushed upon them, loosed their hold of the
boy, and flew for their lives. As for Mother
Growler—
“I _did_ say,” remarked Bruin, taking some feathers
out of his mouth, “that I never would eat
another owl unless it was plucked. Feathers are
certainly a most inferior article of food; but in a
case of this kind it is really the only thing to do.
As Coon says, it settles the matter, and there is no
further trouble about it. And now,” continued
the good bear, “how is my dear boy? Why,
Toto! look up, boy. They are all gone, and
you are cock of the whole wood. Come, my
Toto! I’ll eat them all, if they have hurt the
boy!” he added in an undertone.
But Toto made no reply. He had, in point of
fact, fainted from exhaustion and excitement.
Bruin sniffed at him, and poked him from head
to foot; then, finding that no bones were broken,
he lifted the boy gently by the waistband of his
breeches, and shambled off in the direction of the
cottage.