THE LIVING HEAP OF SNOW
Don’t think, but make quite sure you _know_
A thing is thus or mayhap so.
_Little Joe Otter._
Of all the puzzled people in all the Great World none was more puzzled
than was the young Otter whose big fish had disappeared. He had
certainly killed that fish, He had even taken two big bites out of the
choicest part of it. So he knew that the fish couldn’t have flopped off
the ice into the water while he was away. He had been gone only a few
minutes, just long enough to get his sister and bring her over to see
that big fish. He had boasted that it was bigger than any fish she ever
had caught. Now there wasn’t a trace of it anywhere.
His sister tossed her head. “I don’t believe you caught a big fish at
all,” said she.
“But I tell you I did,” protested her brother. “I caught him and I left
it right here.”
“Then where is it?” demanded his sister.
But this the young Otter couldn’t say. He wished he could. He had a
queer and most uncomfortable feeling. It made him uneasy. Actually it
made him afraid. He didn’t know what he was afraid of, but he was
afraid. So when his sister disgustedly plunged into the water and swam
back to the slippery slide on the bank, he followed her.
But somehow he couldn’t enjoy that slippery slide. He kept thinking
about that lost fish. To make matters worse, his sister kept teasing him
about it. She called him a boaster. It was clear that she didn’t believe
he had caught that big fish he had boasted about. So after going down
the slippery slide a few times, he swam back to the place where he had
left the big fish. He climbed out on the ice and once more looked around
everywhere for signs of some one who might have stolen that big fish.
But not a sign could he find.
A little way off on the ice was a little heap of snow. At least the
young Otter thought it was a heap of snow. He looked at it carelessly
two or three times. But he didn’t go over to it. He wasn’t interested in
heaps of snow. The only thing of interest to him just then was what had
become of that fish. It was very mysterious. He didn’t like a mystery.
His uneasiness increased, so after awhile he once more swam away. He
wanted to ask his father or his mother what could have become of that
fish, but he didn’t. He was afraid he would be laughed at. He was afraid
that they wouldn’t believe he had caught it any more than his sister
believed it.
Now hardly had that young Otter disappeared when what he had taken for a
little heap of snow disappeared too. It disappeared without a sound. You
see, it was alive. It really wasn’t a heap of snow at all. If the young
Otter had seen it go, he might possibly have guessed what had become of
his big fish. But he didn’t see it go, and the next time he visited that
place he didn’t even notice that that little white heap was no longer
there.
[Illustration: “Well, son,” said he, “what did you see?”
_Page 196._]