THE COASTING PARTY
Who fun in life himself denies
Becomes a grouch before he dies.
_Little Joe Otter._
Peter Rabbit was so tickled over having discovered who made the queer
trail in the snow that he quite forgot to look down in the Laughing
Brook to see where Little Joe Otter went to. When he did think to look,
Little Joe was nowhere to be seen. Peter waited awhile, hoping that
Little Joe would return. He wanted to see him slide down that bank
again.
At last Peter decided that Little Joe had gone home, and that there was
no use sitting on the snow-covered bank of the Laughing Brook any
longer. He was just turning away when he heard a splash from the
Laughing Brook. He stopped to look up stream. At once he saw four
swimmers coming down the Laughing Brook and appearing to have no end of
fun as they rolled over in the water, dived, swam under water, and moved
swiftly along, with just their heads showing. They were Little Joe
Otter, Mrs. Otter, and their two nearly grown children.
When they reached the place where Peter had first seen Little Joe climb
out and up the bank, Little Joe made straight for shore. You remember
that the bank was low there. Out he scrambled. Out behind him scrambled
Mrs. Otter. Out behind her scrambled one of the young Otters, and out
behind this one scrambled the other young Otter. Then, following the
trail Little Joe had made in the snow, they came straight up along the
bank towards where Peter was sitting. Peter suddenly felt bashful. He
retreated rather hurriedly to the shelter of a snow-covered hemlock
bough. He couldn’t help a suspicion that one of those Otters might
suddenly think that a Rabbit dinner would taste good.
Little Joe led the way to the edge of the steep bank where Peter had
watched him slide down. With a quick, hard kick of his hind feet he
disappeared down that bank and a second later Peter heard a splash in
the water. Then Mrs. Otter did the same thing, and the two young Otters
followed. Peter remained right where he was. In a few minutes he saw
Little Joe Otter coming back up the trail again. And behind him came
Mrs. Otter and the two young Otters. “I do believe they’re going to
slide again,” thought Peter. “I must get where I can watch them.”
So Peter crept out of his hiding-place and over to the edge of the bank,
where from a safe distance he could watch Little Joe and his family.
Again, flat on his stomach, Little Joe came sliding down that furrow in
the snow straight into the Laughing Brook. One of the young Otters
couldn’t wait for Mrs. Otter to go down in that same furrow and made a
furrow of his own. The other followed right at his heels. Then there was
a great swimming race to see who could get back to the low place on the
bank first, and then another race through the snow to get to the top of
the slide.
Such a merry coasting party as that was. Every time one of those Otters
disappeared in the black, cold-looking water, Peter shivered. He just
couldn’t help it. But there was no shivering on the part of Little Joe
and his family. Not a bit of it! They appeared to enjoy those plunges
into the water quite as much as they would have had it been a midsummer
day. The more they slid the better the slide became and the faster they
went.
“Come on and join us, Peter!” cried Little Joe, as he kicked off and
went shooting down.
Peter shook his head. He did it a little wistfully. Those Otters were
having such a merry time that Peter envied them. But every time he
looked at that water, so cold and black, he shivered. The coasting part
might be all right, but Peter preferred to try it where there was no
water at the end of the slide.
[Illustration: Gentle Mistress Moon saw a queer procession.
_Page 95._]