[Illustration:
“Bump—Slide—Splash!—and he plunged beneath the surface of the icy
lake.”
—Page 3
]
THE ADVENTURES OF
Twinkly Eyes
THE LITTLE BLACK BEAR
By ALLEN CHAFFEE
Author of TALES OF THE TIMID, Little Stories of
the Lives and Habits of the Wild, Told for
Children and Their Elders.
Illustrated by PETER DARU
1919
MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY
SPRINGFIELD, MASSACHUSETTS
_Copyright 1919_
By MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY
Springfield, Massachusetts
_All Rights Reserved_
Bradley Quality Books
_for_ Children
INTRODUCTION
These little stories, which are intended both for children and their
elders, are really true to natural science.
Disguised in fiction form, the reader gets a taste of biology, botany,
zoology, and meteorology.
Such a taste may or may not lead the child to further study along those
lines, but it will certainly give him a heightened appreciation of
out-door life. Incidentally, he will have accumulated in the easiest
possible way a great many facts that he will retain all his life.
The tales should also create a kindlier attitude toward our friends in
fur and feathers, as well as instilling some of the stern virtues of the
wilderness.
That these tales may be suitable for bedtime reading, no animal hero is
ever killed. The big words are explained, and the adventure of each
chapter harks back to the preceding in a way to refresh the memory of
the reader who only takes time for a chapter an evening.
On the other hand, my readers have thus far included a large proportion
of quite grown-up little boys.
ALLEN CHAFFEE.
To
HOWARD FOLSOM BROCK
whose great heart had in it a corner
for even the furred and
feathered folk.
INDEX
Chapter Page
I. Twinkly Gets a Ducking 1
II. Mother Black Bear to the Rescue 4
III. A Stern Lesson 7
IV. But He Learns It 10
V. Mrs. Porcupine Shows Fight 13
VI. Driven from Their Pond 17
VII. Sink or Swim 20
VIII. Writho, the Black Snake 23
IX. “Whoof! Whoof!” 26
X. The Better Part of Valor 29
XI. A Tip on Thunder-Storms 32
XII. A Wild Mother’s Love 35
XIII. Twinkly Eyes Gets Even 38
XIV. A Different Twinkly Eyes 41
XV. There’s Many a Slip 45
XVI. The Bee Tree 48
XVII. Twinkly Eyes and Trouble 51
XVIII. Twinkly Shows His Mettle 54
XIX. Down But Not Downed 57
XX. Twinkly Applies First Aid 60
XXI. Mammy Cottontail’s Secret 63
XXII. One of Twinkly’s Neighbors 66
XXIII. Introducing Bobby Lynx 69
XXIV. A Bunny Ball 72
XXV. Twinkly Eyes Attends a Frolic 75
XXVI. A Joke On The Little Black Bear 78
XXVII. School For Bunnies 81
XXVIII. A Boy and A Bear 84
XXIX. The Tables Are Turned 87
XXX. A Climbing Match 90
XXXI. The Bear Gets The Best of It 93
XXXII. The Little Bears Go Fishing 96
XXXIII. Twinkly Again Meets The Porcupine 99
XXXIV. A Good Sport 102
XXXV. Bobby Lynx Learns A Lesson 104
XXXVI. Twinkly Watches Again 108
XXXVII. Foxy Counsel 111
XXXVIII. A Jolly World 114
XXXIX. Who Will be Sorriest? 117
XL. Twinkly Eyes Plays Safe 121
XLI. Twinkly Eyes Gets a Great Surprise 124
XLII. Twinkly Eyes Plots Mischief 127
XLIII. Twinkly Teases Unk Wunk 130
XLIV. Twinkly Eyes Gets His 133
XLV. Bobby Lynx Goes Fishing 136
XLVI. A New Acquaintance 139
XLVII. The Hired Man Drops a Match 142
XLVIII. The Forest Aflame 146
XLIX. In the Face of a Common Peril 149
L. While There is Life, There is Hope 153
LI. The Boy from the Valley Farm 156
LII. Twinkly’s Fellow Refugees 160
LIII. A Way for the Squirrel Family 163
LIV. What Happened to Fleet Foot 166
LV. Twinkly Eyes Goes House-Hunting 169
LVI. At the Sugar Camp 173
LVII. A Feast and a Fast 176
LVIII. The First Snow 179
LIX. Twinkly Eyes Goes to Bed 182
THE ADVENTURES OF
Twinkly Eyes
THE LITTLE BLACK BEAR
I
TWINKLY GETS A DUCKING
Two such roly-poly babies you never did see!
Mother Black Bear had named them Woof and Twinkly Eyes.—And you never in
all your life met two such rollicking black balls of mischief as those
two cubs!
Small wonder that Mother Black Bear needed such long black claws, long
white teeth, and such a terrifying growl, with two such treasures to
protect.
Why, she wouldn’t even let Father Black Bear come near them when they
were so young, for fear some time they would plague him too far and make
him lose his temper!
As the warm days of July ripened the blueberries along the slopes she
used to lead the cubs down Mt. Olaf into the lowlands on berrying
expeditions. And my! How they did enjoy these trips! How they stuffed
themselves on the luscious fruit, snatching up great pawfuls of it,
leaves and all, till their fuzzy sides rounded out like puff balls!
Then, too, there were often the most delicious sour-tasting ants under
the logs and boulders that Mother Black Bear turned over for them! Life
was one feast, what with the abundant food provided by Mother Black Bear
herself and that found everywhere in the woods about them! Those cubs
hadn’t a complaint to make!
True, they climbed right over one another in their eagerness to get the
best of everything, and they growled little baby growls in imitation of
their mother and squealed little piggish squeals of delight. But that
was all a part of the game.
When there was nothing to eat in sight—or rather when they were too full
to hold any more—they began to yawn and stretch and curl themselves up
together like so many sleepy kittens.
Then when they had slept enough there were wrestling matches and boxing
bouts and playing pranks on mother,—pulling her ears and clambering over
her till she was forced to box their ears.
One lazy afternoon Twinkly was just nodding off to sleep, all curled up
in a little fuzzy ball, when Woof came up from behind and gave him a
shove. Now, as it happened, Twinkly had been lying at the top of a steep
incline that led down to Lone Lake, and he went down that incline like a
rubber ball, before ever Mother Black Bear could stop him.
Bump—slide—splash!—and he plunged beneath the surface of the icy lake.
[Illustration: [Bears]]
II
MOTHER BLACK BEAR TO THE RESCUE
It is so wonderfully snug and comfy to be drowsing off on a warm
afternoon, all curled up in a fuzzy little ball. So, at least, thought
Twinkly Eyes, Mother Black Bear’s littlest cub.
But what an awful contrast to find oneself rolling down the bank like a
rubber ball, till one came, bump, slide, splash, to the icy water!
And then to go down, down, down, gasping for breath and so horribly
frightened that one thought the end had come!
It was certainly a terrible experience for the five-months-old cub, when
his brother Woof gave him that mischievous shove!
Mother Black Bear was really frightened. Not that she was afraid of Lone
Lake—not a good swimmer like Mother Black Bear; and not that she feared
being unable to rescue the little fellow. But Mothers are always
frightened when anything happens to their babies. Mother Black Bear was
no exception.
She was just like any other mother in believing that her babies were the
brightest and the handsomest and the most wonderful little creatures
that anyone ever had.
So she didn’t even stop to think when she saw Twinkly’s little body
rolling down the bank with its legs still wound around its nose. She
just slid!—Afterwards there was a long trench where she had slid down
that bank on her haunches!
She reached the water the very moment he did, and it wasn’t two seconds
before she had plunged into the blue depths and grabbed the struggling
youngster by the nape of his neck.
Dragging him straight back up the bank, she spread him out in the
sunshine and began licking him dry, while he whimpered and coaxed for
sympathy.
“This teaches you a lesson, young man,” she told him, when she had made
sure he wasn’t hurt and wasn’t going to catch cold. “Never sleep on the
edge of a bank. And Woof, don’t you ever again shove anyone over the
bank like that,—not unless it’s someone you never want to see again,”
and she gave Woof a good cuff on the ear to help him remember.
“But I’m glad, in one way, that this had to happen. Because it shows
that you must learn to swim at once. Life is uncertain at best, in the
woods, and you never can tell when you may need to know.”
“Ow! the water is too cold!” squealed Twinkly Eyes, backing away into
the brush.
“We’ll go where it isn’t,” said Mother Black Bear firmly. “But we’re
going this very afternoon. Come along!”
[Illustration: [Bears]]
III
A STERN LESSON
“Oo! I don’t want to learn to swim!” squealed Twinkly Eyes.
“Why don’t you?” asked Mother Black Bear, though she had quite made up
her mind to give the cubs a lesson that very afternoon.
When Mother Black Bear had made up her mind to a thing, that was all
there was to be said about it, so far as the cubs were considered.
Her word was law. Still, that did not prevent them from complaining at
times. It is a certain amount of relief to complain, even when one knows
it won’t do any good, isn’t it? At least the two cubs found it so.
“The water’s so-o-o-o cold,” wailed Twinkly Eyes, whose wet fur made him
shiver.
“You won’t be cold, once you get to paddling about,” said Mother Black
Bear. “Come on, quick! There’s a shallow place farther on where the sun
has warmed the water.”
She led the way through the bushes, Woof trotting obediently at her
heels. Twinkly tried to run away, but he didn’t get very far. Mother
Black Bear quickly found his hiding place.
“Come!” she insisted away down deep in her throat, with that rumbly
sound that the cubs knew meant business.
Since the accident she felt it was not safe to let another day go by
without making sure that they could at least keep from drowning.
“Come here!” she growled to Twinkly in no uncertain tone. That small imp
simply didn’t dare disobey!
Woods babies generally are that way, and it is a lucky thing for them,
let me tell you, or no telling what would happen to them!
Puffing and panting as they tumbled after her, the fat cubs soon found
their mother seated on her haunches beside a quiet pool, where the sun
danced through the leaves till the water seemed all mottled. Tall ferns
grew all about them and every now and again a frightened frog would say,
“K’dunk!” and go splashing to the bottom of the pond.
[Illustration:
“Twinkly Eyes, are you coming?”
—Page 9
]
“Now, then, just follow me,” said Mother Black Bear, when they had
stared at the water for a moment. She waded off till she stood shoulder
deep.
Twinkly braced himself firmly with all four feet and cocked one ear at
the depths before him. His unexpected plunge when Woof had rolled him
off the bank had shaken his faith in water, even for drinking purposes.
“Come!” commanded Mother Black Bear, and he knew he would have to wade
in or get a good boxing. He whimpered, wondering which would be worse.
He was a most unhappy little bear cub, for one so roly-poly!
Woof on the other hand, had waded in after his mother, and now—much to
his own surprise—found his fat sides floating with just a stroke or two
of his broad forepaws.
“Twinkly Eyes, are you coming?” called Mother Black Bear, wading back to
where he stood.
“I don’t want to know how to swim,” wept the little black rascal,
backing away still farther.
The next instant Mother Black Bear seized him by the scruff of the neck
and dropped him straight into the pool!
IV
BUT HE LEARNS IT
He had been badly frightened, had Twinkly Eyes, the littlest bear cub,
when Woof shoved him into the lake.
But underneath it all he had had a comfortable feeling that Mother Black
Bear would somehow come to the rescue. There had never been a time, in
all the five months of his existence, when she had not solved his
troubles for him.
But now! To have Mother herself drop him in! It was too much! There was
no hope anywhere. No one to rescue him! No way ever to get out again
unless he found a way himself!
As this fact dawned on him he struck out with his broad fore paws, his
nose turned to shore. So vigorous were his efforts that the first thing
his untrained little body did was to go down, down, down to the very
bottom of the pond.
But he held his breath, because he remembered the time before, when he
had swallowed so much water.
Somehow, he scarcely knew just how it happened, he found himself coming
up again, safely enough.
“Wuhr! Splurf!” he gasped.
“Good work,” encouraged Mother Black Bear. “You see, you couldn’t drown
if you wanted to!”
But already Twinkly Eyes had gone under water again, and this time he
made the mistake of losing his nerve and trying to squeal for help. Of
course that filled his nose with water, and that frightened him still
more, till the first thing he knew, he was flapping about on the bottom
of the pond with the most awful feeling he had ever known. His eyes he
kept tight closed to keep the water out and not knowing where he had
landed made it all the worse.
As an actual fact he hadn’t been under a minute before Mother Black Bear
had pulled him out again. But to the five months cub, it seemed an hour.
“Help, Help!” he gasped, the minute his nose came above water.
His mother, seeing how terrified he had become, towed him gently to the
bank and left him there to shake himself dry in the sun while she
finished with his brother Woof.
This fat fellow had been enjoying Twinkly’s struggles as he paddled
slowly about the pond, and his little black eyes danced with laughter.
But Twinkly had not given it up. That laughter was more than he could
stand. “I’ll get you for that,” he growled in his high-pitched little
voice, running around the bank to the point nearest his brother. With
one mighty leap he landed fairly on top of Woof.
And Woof? Why, he simply took one deep breath and went under, and
Twinkly went under with him. But this time he was too mad to be afraid.
He forgot even to shut his eyes. Being able to see how near the bottom
of the pond really was did more than you can imagine to give him
confidence in himself.
The next thing Mother Black Bear knew, both cubs were swimming with all
the zest of small boys.
But her pleasure was short lived. For rattling through the underbrush at
that very moment came Mrs. Porcupine with three prickly babies, headed
straight for their pond!
V
MRS. PORCUPINE SHOWS FIGHT
Yes, sir, Mother Black Bear’s pleasure was short lived. For no sooner
had the cubs started off side by side across the pond than there was a
curious rattling sound behind her, like the rattling of dry twigs.
She turned her head like a flash. It was Mrs. Porcupine, her quills
rattling together as she walked. She was headed straight for the little
pond, and Mother Black Bear knew there was going to be trouble.
Not that she would have cared, had she been alone. She would have given
it up willingly enough. In fact, had she been alone, she would have
preferred a larger pond for her swim.
But Mother Black Bear was not alone. She had fat little Woof and Twinkly
Eyes to look out for. And it certainly was too bad, now that they were
really making headway with their swimming lesson, to have to give up
their pond. Twinkly had at last forgotten to be afraid, but if they had
to give up the pond to Mrs. Porcupine, he might lose his nerve again,
and all her work would have gone for nothing.
Yet learn to swim he must, before ever another accident befell him. Of
this Mother Black Bear felt very certain.
She, therefore, eyed Mrs. Porcupine a bit anxiously; the more so when
she spied the three little porcupines creeping along behind her.
Of all the folk that live in the Deep Woods, there is probably none more
absolutely fearless than Mrs. Porcupine, and for a very good reason. She
knows that nothing can so much as touch her without getting badly hurt
on her barbed quills.
Where everyone else darts along the forest trails alert to catch the
slightest sight or sound or smell that might mean an enemy, she strolls
along with the utmost calm. She knows that no one can touch even her
babies without getting hurt. For they are just as full of quills as she
is, and their little quills are even sharper.
But if she fears no attack, neither will she harm other animals unless
attacked. It is only when they come too near that she strikes at them
with her barbed tail.
This afternoon she was headed for the self-same little pond that Mother
Black Bear had selected, and for the self-same reason, as we shall see.
When she saw Mother Black Bear and the two cubs, she didn’t stop for
even an instant. She came right on to the edge of the pond as if there
were no one already occupying it. She looked straight past Mother Black
Bear as if she hadn’t been there at all, and grunted to her babies to
climb on her back.
Mother Black Bear gave a growl. “We got here first,” said she, crossly.
But Mrs. Porcupine pretended not to hear. She just went on into the
water with her babies on her back—she had flattened down her quills for
them—and from all the concern she showed, you would have thought she
didn’t know the bears were there. That was her way of showing fight. She
hadn’t a doubt in the world that they would give their places to her.
“Come—quick!” Mother Black Bear called to her cubs, losing her nerve as
the quilly creature allowed herself to float over on the side the cubs
were on. “Quick, I tell you!—Scramble!”
[Illustration: [Bears & porcupine]]
VI
DRIVEN FROM THEIR POND
Well it was for Woof and Twinkly Eyes, the fat bear cubs, that they had
learned obedience.
For had they not scrambled out of the pond the instant their mother bade
them they would have got badly hurt.
Mrs. Porcupine is not a neighbor to be treated with disrespect, as
Mother Black Bear knew. Had one of the cubs gone an inch too near her
prickly babies, their little tails would have gone slap, slap right in
the faces of the cubs, leaving their barbed quills behind them.
That is why, even though Mrs. Black Bear felt she had first right to the
swimming pool, she gave it up to Mrs. Porcupine the minute that lady
entered the water.
The bear cubs didn’t in the least understand why they should be asked to
scramble out of the pond so hastily; but they didn’t stop to ask why.
They just scrambled!
Once safely on the bank, Mother Black Bear hurried them to the shelter
of the tall ferns and bracken. Here she posted them side by side where
they could see the pond.
“Just watch,” she whispered, “and see—what you will see!”
The pair settled themselves on their awkward little haunches, eyes
dancing with excitement. They did love a mystery!
Now Mrs. Porcupine is covered thick with quills, and these are as sharp
as needles. When she meets an enemy she can make them stand out all over
her back till she looks like a giant pincushion. But she can also
flatten them down as smooth as a bale of hay.
Just on the edge of the pond, she flattened them all so nicely that the
three baby porcupines were able to clamber aboard and sail out into the
pond on her back.
“Gee! that must be fun,” thought Woof.
“I’ll bet they fall off,” thought Twinkly Eyes.
Mother Black Bear, who knew just what was going to happen, thought to
herself, “I might have tried that myself if only I had thought in time!”
“Unk wunk, unk wunk, unk wunk!” sang Mrs. Porcupine, pulling up the
water lily pads and munching the juicy roots.
“Unk wunk, unk wunk,” mimicked the little porcupines, nibbling at the
bits she took in her mouth to see what they were like.
Lower and lower swam Mrs. Porcupine, till the babies had to climb higher
on her back to keep from getting wet. Mother Black Bear’s eyes fairly
twinkled at what was about to happen.
Lower still sank the living raft, till it was half under. The babies
didn’t mind, once the surprise of getting wet was over. But the raft was
sinking lower still. Now Mrs. Porcupine just had her nose out.
Then—suddenly—she dived clear under!
[Illustration: [Porcupine]]
VII
SINK OR SWIM
“Ooh! They’ll drown!” squealed Twinkly Eyes, as Mrs. Porcupine went
under water with her babies on her back.
But they didn’t!
It had come so gradually, for one thing, that they weren’t the least bit
frightened. Mrs. Porcupine has simply flattened her quills down smooth
and taken them on her back while she swam out for lily pads. They had
nibbled the pads and thought they were having the finest kind of ride.
As Mrs. Porcupine went deeper into the water and the babies got their
feet wet, they scarcely noticed, so warm was the water in the little
pond and so sure were they that Mother was right there.
When she sank till they were all half under, they only thought it fun.
They had no idea of what was going to happen before they reached dry
land again. Had they known what was going to happen, they would have
been dreadfully frightened. In fact, they wouldn’t have ventured out at
all, even on their mother’s back.
It is often that way with people. If they knew just what was going to
happen next, they would lose their nerve entirely. Yet generally when it
does happen, it isn’t nearly so bad as they feared. Sometimes it isn’t
bad at all.
If the baby porcupines had had any idea that their mother was going to
dive clear under water with them, they never in this world would have
ventured one foot from shore. But that was one of the things Mrs.
Porcupine kept to herself. She was very good at keeping things to
herself, was Mrs. Porcupine, and it saved her a lot of trouble.
At any rate, from being in the warm pond water with their feet safely
planted on Mother’s back, the babies suddenly found themselves in the
water with nothing under their feet but water, and Mother coming up away
on the other side of the pond.
The two cubs, watching from the bracken, smiled from ear to ear, their
little black eyes dancing with enjoyment.
“Come!” said Mrs. Porcupine, swimming about just out of reach. And the
three baby porcupines simply had to strike out for themselves.
To their own very great surprise they found that their hollow quills
floated them beautifully. In fact, it is easier for a porcupine to swim
than it is for almost any other animal.
“What do you think of that?” Mother Black Bear asked her cubs.
“Pretty slick,” said Woof.
“Gee, I wish you’d taught me that way,” said Twinkly Eyes.
“I’m going to teach you something else now,” said Mother Black Bear,
“Come!” and she started up a water maple that grew hard by.
“Oo—ee! I can’t climb,” Twinkly was just beginning, when he heard a
curious rustling in the grass behind him. Turning his head he spied
Writho, the Black Snake, making straight toward him!
[Illustration:
“He found himself staring straight at Writho the black snake.”
—Page 23
]
VIII
WRITHO, THE BLACK SNAKE
Now Twinkly Eyes had been perfectly certain a moment before that he
could never climb that tree after his mother.
The next instant there had been a queer little rustling in the tall
grass, and he found himself staring straight at Writho the Black Snake.
He had never seen a black snake before, but he would have known just
from the smell of him that he was some one to avoid.
“Climb! Climb!” rumbled Mother Black Bear from the water maple. Had he
needed warning, her anxious tone would have been enough.
And Twinkly Eyes climbed—my, how he scrambled up that tree! He didn’t
once stop to wonder if he might fall off. He just drove his sharp little
claws into the bark and up he went, faster than he would ever have
dreamed possible!
Mother Black Bear smiled to herself. She had learned something from
watching Mrs. Porcupine dive from under the little porcupines. She had
learned that if a youngster is given his choice of sinking or swimming
he will find a way to swim. Of course, she could have leaped to the
rescue the instant Writho became dangerous. She wouldn’t have let him
hurt her cub! But when she saw him wriggling through the grass she knew
that Twinkly Eyes would need no coaxing to take to the tree. In that she
was not mistaken.
Meantime, where was Woof? He had climbed the tree on the other side of
the trunk, quite without urging, and he now came out on a limb some
distance from the ground.
“Good boy!” said Mother Black Bear, patting him fondly.
This was too much for Twinkly Eyes. Had not Woof caused all of his
troubles that afternoon by rolling him into the water? Then, too, he
felt that he was a good boy himself for having scrambled up the tree so
readily. To have his brother get all the praise!
Fat little Woof was just licking up a delicious big black ant when
Twinkly crept up behind him. The next instant he received a blow in the
ribs that fairly knocked the breath out of him.
The wrestling match that followed sent both cubs spinning from their
branch. But so fat they were, and so roly-poly, that they minded their
fall about as much as they would have a box on the ear. They just rolled
over and over and over in each other’s arms all over the ferns and
bracken, still punching and biffing one another.
In fact, they rolled about so fast that the first thing they knew they
had come down on something cold and slippery that writhed out from under
them with an angry hiss.
Woof, ever the quicker of the two, was back up his tree in a twinkling,
but poor Twinkly Eyes was for the second time staring straight into the
angry eyes of Writho. And the snake was between him and the tree!
[Illustration: [Bear & snake]]
IX
“WHOOF! WHOOF!”
“Trouble again!” thought Twinkly Eyes, as he found himself staring into
the angry face of Writho, the Black Snake.
“You rolled right on me,” scolded Writho. “Haven’t you any consideration
for other people at all?”
“I’m sorry,” pleaded the cub, “I had no idea—”
“You want to look where you’re going,” scolded Writho. “I could bite you
for what you did!”
“Oh, please don’t,” squealed Twinkly Eyes, retreating toward the pond,
as Writho wriggled closer. Then he remembered Mrs. Porcupine and her
family, whom he could hear grunting “unk wunk” as they nibbled lily
pads. It would never do to back up too close to those prickly creatures.
Neither would it do to turn his back on Writho, whose red forked tongue
hissed at him from between two of the sharpest looking fangs he had ever
seen.
“Truly, I didn’t mean to step on you, Mr. Writho,” said the little bear,
and his voice sounded very sorry and very much afraid.
But he kept backing around nearer and nearer his tree, until it was
right behind him.
“Whoof, whoof!” he suddenly roared at the snake, stamping a fore foot
loudly.
Writho was so amazed that he stood stone still, and in that instant the
cub had raced up his tree in safety.
“Why didn’t you think of that before?” laughed Mother Bear. “Writho is
an awful bluffer. He didn’t really mean to bite at all. The trouble was,
it hurt his pride to be stepped on.”
“So was I a bluffer,” confessed Twinkly Eyes.
“No, you weren’t, my son. You could have killed him with one blow on the
back of his neck, had he really tried to bite you.”
“Wish I’d known,” sighed the cub. “I certainly had a bad scare.”
“Now climb up here in the sun and dry your fur,” said Mother Black Bear,
“while I talk to you. As a rule I don’t advise bluffing. I don’t advise
making any threat you cannot back up with tooth or claw. Because once
people find you out, they will have no more respect for you.
“But with a coward and a bluffer like Writho it often works. Most snakes
are cowards. All they want is to be left in peace. They’ll only attack a
big animal like you when you step on them and make them mad. They hiss
and stick out their tongues at us just for a bluff.
“I’ve never seen Writho attack any animal larger than a hare or a
chipmunk in all my life.
“But you’ll do well to keep clear out of the way of Mrs. Porcupine and
the whole porcupine family, big and little,” and she peered back into
the pond, where the three prickly babies were just following their
mother out of the pond.
“Hello, there! I do believe they are making for our tree!”
[Illustration: [Porcupines]]
X
THE BETTER PART OF VALOR
Mother Black Bear sighed as she saw Mrs. Porcupine making for her maple
tree.
“If she wants it, I suppose she will have to have it,” she told the
cubs. “Wisdom is the better part of valor.”
“What is wisdom?” asked Woof, the larger of the fat cubs.
“Wisdom,” said Mother Black Bear, “in this case is giving up our tree
rather than having a fight with Mrs. Porcupine about it.”
“But we got here first,” shrilled Twinkly Eyes, the smaller cub. “She
has no right to it.”
“That makes no difference with Mrs. Porcupine,” growled Mother Black
Bear. “She has no sense of right and wrong. She is too well armed with
those awful quills to value other people’s rights. She just about has
things all her own way in the Deep Woods, because few of us care to
fight with her. It’s lucky that all she wants is her own stubborn way.
She is a ve-ge-tarian, you know. She eats no meat.
“Just why she should decide on our maple tree—of all the trees she has
to choose between—is more than I can see. Though, of course, it IS easy
for the little ones to climb.”
“Will they have to climb up there in the sun and dry off, too?” asked
Twinkly Eyes.
“Where else would they get any sun?” asked Woof, gazing up at the forest
roof. In this part of the woods the trees all grew so high and so close
together that their upper branches interlaced, so that one only got a
patch of the sky here and there.
Woof, peering through the green gloom, could see Mrs. Porcupine and the
three little Porcupines slowly making toward their maple.
“Don’t let her have it,” he begged Mother Black Bear, who loved nothing
better than to see a scrap. “You could lick her, Mother!”
“Well, no, I shouldn’t like to try it, not with you youngsters along,”
she answered, swinging her long head from side to side uneasily, as she
prepared to lead the way to the ground. “Your father might, but I
shouldn’t like to try it.”
“Why, the old ‘Unk Wunk!’”
“First she chased us out of our pond, now out of our tree,” complained
Twinkly Eyes. “Can’t we bluff her off, the way I did Writho, the black
snake?”
“I should say not,” said Mother Black Bear in alarm. “Nothing on this
earth could frighten Mrs. Porcupine. Come along here,” and she reached
up and gave each cub a spank that sent them hurrying to the ground. It
was not a moment too soon, for as they landed on one side of the trunk
the Porcupine family started up the other, though for all the sign they
made, Mother Black Bear and the cubs didn’t even exist.
But the latter’s peace of mind was short-lived.
“We are certainly going to have a thunder-storm,” exclaimed Mother Black
Bear, as she sniffed the air.
“Are you scared, Mother?” asked Twinkly Eyes.
“Well, that all depends on how fast you cubs can beat it out of these
woods!”
XI
A TIP ON THUNDER-STORMS
“No sir-ee! I certainly don’t like the looks of things,” said Mother
Black Bear, hurrying the cubs through the green gloom of the forest
aisles.
“Mrs. Porcupine is welcome to our maple tree! There’s going to be a
thunder-storm, and it’s going to be a big one,” and she pointed her nose
skyward to sniff.
Out over the lake the black clouds were banking up over the sky at a
great rate. The cubs crowded close to her sides, as the rolling and
rumbling of clouds banging together came to their ears.
The air was full of the peculiar fresh odor you always notice before a
shower.
“Are you scared, mother?” Twinkly Eyes kept asking.
Mother Black Bear glanced about, this way and that.
On every side, as far as she could see, there were just five or six
kinds of trees, oaks, poplars, willows, maples, elms and ash trees, all
growing to nearly the same height. Here and there was a blackened trunk
standing gaunt and naked where the lightning had struck. For these
trees, as every woodsman knows, are the very ones most likely to be
struck.
“I don’t like to get caught in these woods,” insisted Mother Black Bear,
starting off at a brisk pace along the southern border of the lake. It
was all the cubs could do to follow, paddling along on their chubby legs
with panting breath and red tongues lolling from their little black
muzzles.
“I can’t keep up,” whispered Twinkly Eyes who brought up the rear.
“Lightning waits for no one,” rumbled Mother Black Bear, refusing to
slow down even a mite. A nearer crash of thunder, as the first big
raindrops began to fall, sent her forward on the run.
“Where are we going?” asked Woof, who rather enjoyed the excitement.
“We’re going to find the kind of trees lightning doesn’t strike,” Mother
Black Bear flung behind her without stopping.
“Beech, birch, chestnut, basswood!” She broke into a run.
“Oh, mother—those white birches over behind Pollywog pond,” gasped Woof,
trying his best to keep up with her through the pelting rain.
“Just where we are headed,” rumbled Mother Black Bear. “If only—we can
reach them—in time!”
A blinding flash of lightning darted down the trunk of a huge old oak to
the left. This time the thunder seemed to come at the same instant.
Mother Black Bear looked back over her shoulder. Woof was close
behind,—but where was Twinkly Eyes?
She turned instantly to find out.
XII
A WILD MOTHER’S LOVE
At the instant of the lightning flash that came so near, Mother Black
Bear had been racing for dear life to get to the safe shelter of the
birch grove.
She knew that lightning is not so apt to strike in a birch grove as in
the giant oaks where the storm had found them.
But then the cubs had both been close at her heels. The instant she
missed Twinkly Eyes she turned back to find him. He lay flat on the
ground, his heels in the air, just where he had tumbled when the big
crash came. He was so frightened that he could scarce regain his feet.
His legs trembled till he could go no further.
Mother Black Bear tried her best to carry him in her mouth, but he was
so fat and roly-poly and wiggled so at every clap of thunder that she
had to give it up.
Woof, who was close at her heels every minute, was all for climbing the
tallest tree they could find, but Mother Black Bear selected a
comparatively open patch with no tree higher than its neighbors; and
there she crouched beside the cubs, covering them with her own body when
the big drops turned to hailstones.
“It’s bad to be caught among the oaks in a thunder storm,” she told the
cubs as they waited. “It’s bad to be caught under any tall tree. Better
far, when a storm comes up, abandon your tree and wait out in the open
where there is nothing to attract the lightning.
“There are only two things in all the Deep Woods that a bear ought
really to be afraid of, and one of those is lightning—for there’s no
fighting back,” said Mother Black Bear.
“What is the other thing you are afraid of, Mother?” asked Woof, “Mrs.
Porcupine?”
“No, I’m not afraid of Mrs. Porcupine, if I did think best to let her
have our tree. I just believe in keeping out of her way, that’s all.”
“Then what is the other thing you are afraid of?” asked Twinkly Eyes,
whose trembling had ceased as the storm passed around to the south.
“Men with guns,” said Mother Black Bear im-press-ive-ly. (When you say a
thing im-press-ive-ly, you try to impress it on other people’s minds, so
they will never forget.) “You can’t fight men with guns. That is once
when a bear just simply has to run away.”
“That would suit Twinkly Eyes, all right,” laughed Woof, poking his
brother in the ribs. “Eh, there?”
The smaller cub gave a growl. “Just because I didn’t want to learn to
swim!—I’ll teach you to be afraid yourself, one of these days! You see
if I don’t!” he growled in his baby throat, as he thought of how Woof
had pushed him into the lake.
XIII
TWINKLY EYES GETS EVEN
He’d get even, somehow, Twinkly told himself, seizing his brother’s
nose; and as the fat cubs clinched the storm was forgotten.
Mother Black Bear gave them each a cuff, then stalked away, leaving them
unprotected in the pelting hail.
Such clawing and biting and squealing as followed you never did see!
The clouds rolled away toward Mount Olaf and the hail changed to rain,
and the rain suddenly gave way to a red glow in the West where the sun
goes to bed. But the cubs fought on.
Mother Black Bear stood and watched, feeling that they were gaining a
training in the use of their muscles that would stand them in good stead
later on. She would interfere only if she saw that one of them was
really getting hurt.
[Illustration:
“Such clawing and biting and squealing—you never did see!”
—Page 38
]
Now just behind the circle of brushwood in which they had sought safety
from the thunder storm there was an old root that sloped straight down a
15-foot incline.
To this Twinkly was trying his best to shove his brother, and though he
was somewhat lighter than Woof, weighing a bare six pounds to Woof’s six
and a half, he was also quicker on his feet, and he did finally succeed
in backing the other up to the incline.
True, there was no lake at the bottom, as there had been when Woof
shoved him down the bank in his sleep, but at least the teaser should
find out what it felt like to be sent rolling in a helpless ball.
With a sudden wrench he sprang free, just as he had the larger cub
humped up at the top of the slide, defending his head with all four
paws. The result was that fat Woof rolled like a rubber ball straight
down the incline, whirling around and around till he came up, plunk,
against the trunk of a tree.
But to Twinkly Eyes’ surprise Woof not only picked himself up with a
laugh of enjoyment, but he raced back up the slope to try it again,
ducking his tiny head and doubling up into a ball for the purpose.
Again and again he tobogganed down that slope, Twinkly staring after him
wide-eyed. So that was the way he had thought to get even!
He was so surprised that he stood clear up on his hind legs, staring.
Then he tried it himself!
[Illustration: [Bears]]
XIV
A DIFFERENT TWINKLY EYES
Summer passed, with its lessons. And thanks to Mother Black Bear, there
wasn’t an animal his size in all the Deep Woods that Twinkly Eyes was
afraid of, when at last the long sleep came.
Emerging in the spring from the snug den in which he and his brother had
drowsed away the long months, snuggled close into their mother’s furs,
he was a different Twinkly Eyes.
He was both older and wiser,—and oh, so much thinner! His voice had
deepened, too.
Soon he began hunting by himself. For Mother Black Bear now had two new
little roly-poly cubs. And sometimes he didn’t find much to eat.
One morning he met Tattle-tale the Jay.
Now Tattletale was not really a mean fellow: he was just mischievous. He
loved to play pranks. His tattling was for the most part a warning to
the smaller forest folk of the approach of their enemies, Cooper the
Hawk and Bobby Lynx, and Mother Black Bear.
When any of these were out for game, he would fly from one tree-top to
another just ahead of them, screaming his warning at the top of his
lungs, till there wasn’t a hare or a wood mouse anywhere that did not
have a chance to run to hiding.
Now, though, he was so furious with the Red Squirrels for smashing two
of Mrs. Jay’s pretty eggs that he made up his mind to get even. It never
once entered his head that he was the first offender. For if he hadn’t
begun the quarrel by robbing Shadow Tail, of his poor little hoard of
seeds, Mother Red Squirrel would never have harmed the eggs.
If he had thought, he might have called it square, instead of making a
bad matter worse. But Tattletale didn’t stop to think. All he could see
was his own grievance. Besides, Mrs. Jay felt so bad about the eggs that
he had to promise her something that would soothe her ruffled feelings.
The very next morning, just as the first pink rays of the rising sun
began glinting off the dew-wet leaves in the open places, he was
flitting about after grasshoppers when he spied Twinkly Eyes, the little
Black Bear, slouching along the little trail to Pollywog Pond.
“Good morning, Mr. Bear,” he chirped.
“Good morning,” rumbled the yearling cub, peering and blinking into the
treetops at the flash of blue wings. Twinkly’s eyes are very poor,
though his ears are so sharp and his nose sharper. He could hear the
squeak of a wood mouse a long way off, and he could tell just by
sniffing whether or not he would find those delicious sour-tasting ants
underneath a fallen log.
“How do you find the hunting these days?” asked Tattletale politely.
“Oh, nothing extra—nothing extra at all,” grumbled Twinkly Eyes.
“Haven’t had much of anything but roots and frogs so far this spring.
Blueberries aren’t ripe yet, there won’t be any nuts till fall, to say
nothing of green corn. And a bear of my size can’t make much of a living
off of grubs and mice, of course. I do wish I could find a bee tree!”
“I don’t suppose, now,” ventured the Jay, “that you’d be interested in a
nest of young squirrels?”
“Try me—just try me once!” chuckled the little bear.
“All right; see that old oak?” directed Tattletale, flying on ahead.
[Illustration: [Bear]]
XV
THERE’S MANY A SLIP
Fortunately for most of us, there is many a slip ’twixt the cup and the
lip, which only means that many a plan is laid that doesn’t pan out just
as it was expected to.
It was so in the case of Twinkly Eyes, the little Black Bear. It was
lucky for him and it was lucky for Shadow Tail, the Red Squirrel, and it
was lucky for Tattletale, the Jay. For if Tattletale had really been the
means of leading the little Bear to Mother Red Squirrel’s nest, she’d
never have forgiven Tattletale, but surely would have gone back and
broken the rest of the eggs on which he had left Mrs. Jay sitting so
patiently.
And if Twinkly Eyes had really caught the squirrel babies, as he wanted
to, he’d have made such an enemy of every squirrel in all the woods
around that he’d never have known peace again. For they’d have followed
through the treetops, everywhere he went, scolding him and warning the
mice and frogs and snakes to beware of his coming.
But there was one thing Tattletale the Jay had not stopped to consider
when he led Twinkly Eyes to the tree in which Mother Red Squirrel had
located. He didn’t stop to realize that the squirrel babies were far too
clever to be caught napping.
No sooner did Shadow Tail and his brothers hear Twinkly’s great claws
scrambling up the tree trunk than they promptly leaped into another
tree, and the bear had his climb for his trouble.
Sliding down the trunk like a bag of meal, he tried the next tree, on
the Jay’s advice, but with the same success. The little squirrels raced
from branch to branch around him, hurling taunts and laughter at him,
till he really began to be angry. But it was Mr. Jay he was angry with!
“See here,” he grumbled, “I do believe you have just been playing a
prank on me!”
“Oh, no, I assure you,” began Tattletale, flying down beside the bear.
But Twinkly Eyes would have none of it. He suddenly remembered how often
the Jay had warned his quarry away from him by flying just overhead and
shrieking, “Look out, look out! A bear!”
With this memory bitter upon him, he made a sudden slap at Tattletale
with his great barbed paw. But the bird was too quick for him. He was
back in the tree tops before the little Bear knew what had happened.
“All right,” said Tattletale, “if you feel that way about it! You can’t
do me any harm,” and he was off with a flash of his blue wings.
For a while Twinkly wandered on, hungrily listening for the squeak of a
shrew mouse. Then suddenly he pricked up his ears. It was—it certainly
was the buzzing of a honey bee! It came from a little wild rose bush.
Now a honey bee meant but one thing to Twinkly Eyes—a bee tree, and a
bee tree meant honey. He would follow the sound when the bee flew home,
and then—Um! His mouth fairly watered.
XVI
THE BEE TREE
As Twinkly Eyes, the little Black Bear, heard that buzzing from the wild
rose bushes, he forgot his troubles with the Jay.
Indeed, he fairly danced for joy. For had he not been waiting greedily
all spring for the sound of a honey bee?
Now he would find the bee tree, and feast on honey to his heart’s
content! For of all the good things in the great green woods—mice and
berries and grubs, and fish and frogs, and sour-tasting little red ants,
to say nothing of juicy roots, and the nuts of autumn—he loved nothing
half so well as honey.
He had had a taste just once, but he had never forgotten!
While wrestling with his brother one day the spring before, when they
were three months cubs, their mother had suddenly called them to follow
and trailing straight after a bee her sharp ears had discovered, she led
them to a hollow tree where the yellow comb lay in great fragrant
chunks.
Twinkly Eyes licked his chops at the memory. Then Mother Black Bear had
shown them how to hide their noses and shut their eyes when the bees
came too near these unprotected places. Otherwise the angry insects
could try as hard as they would, and they could not reach through the
glossy fur.
Twinkly Eyes had escaped without a sting and he had decided in his
infant mind that Mother was altogether too cautious for any use.
This year Mother Black Bear had a new set of cubs to teach and train,
and Twinkly and his brother were living in bachelor quarters.
A moment Twinkly watched, and then the bee had all the honey she could
carry. Buzzing happily, she started back through the woods toward an
open glade on the other side of Pollywog Pond.
Twinkly followed, his sharp ears guiding him where his little
near-sighted eyes could not, till his eager sniffings brought to his
nostrils the first faint fragrance of the bee tree.
Now other bees began to join the first one, till there was quite a
little swarm headed for a hollow pine—a great, gaunt tree that had been
hollowed out by lightning and now stood, scarred and blackened, on the
top of a hillock.
“It’s a pretty good world, after all,” Twinkly Eyes decided, as he
ambled up the slope.
[Illustration: [Bees]]
XVII
TWINKLY EYES AND TROUBLE
“Yes, sir, it’s a pretty good world after all,” mused Twinkly Eyes, the
little Black Bear, as he neared the bee tree.
Certainly everything about him promised a blissful day.
Warblers sung happily from every treetop, swallowtail butterflies danced
above the wild rose bushes, and puffy white clouds shadowed the blue of
the sky. There was just enough breeze to feel good as it ruffled his
glossy fur. Then too, blueberries were nearly ripe, and the fragrance of
wild grape vines promised delights to come.
But best of all was that heavy hum of a thousand bees carrying their
golden honey into the hollow pine tree.
It was a tall old pine that had once been struck by lightning. One side
was scored and blackened; near the top was a small dark hole, into which
the returning bees poured steadily, while others poured steadily out
again.
And oh! The wonderful odor that came from that hole! How it made his
mouth water! There was nothing whatever to indicate that trouble might
be near.
Now Twinkly Eyes had been in his mother’s charge the first time he had
climbed a bee tree, and thanks to her warnings he had escaped unstung.
It seemed to him now, as he thought of that wonderful day, that his
mother had been altogether more cautious than there was any need of
being.
But, no sooner had his claws begun to rattle upon the trunk of the
hollow pine than the buzzing grew louder, and it seemed to Twinkly Eyes
that there was a new note in it, quite different from the contented hum
he had heard before. In fact, he began to wonder if there might be
trouble after all. Still, he was not one to give up at this point! The
sweet comb would be worth a lot of trouble! He scrambled faster, till
one paw clutched the edge of the hole.
Instantly the bees had settled thick upon his coat, trying their best to
ram their red-hot stings into his glossy fur, but it was too thick for
them, and Twinkly minded not at all.
Suddenly a red-hot needle struck him on the lip.
“Hoof—woof!” he protested, licking the burnt place. It hurt dreadfully.
Another needle pricked him, this time on the tip of his protruding
tongue. This time Twinkly slapped so angrily that he flattened the bee,
but it didn’t help his tongue, and his lip began to swell.
But there was no time to think about that. As he reached for a better
hold, his paw tore a strip of the rotten bark away, and he had to shut
his eyes and cover his nose with his paw while the angry swarm darted
about his head in a buzzing fury.
XVIII
TWINKLY SHOWS HIS METTLE
No, indeed, Twinkly Eyes was not the Bear to give up just when he had
one paw in the honey!
For the same paw that covered his nose from the angry insects, as he
clung to the old pine, also brought to his tongue the most wonderful
flavor he had ever known.
All the smarting and burning in tongue and lip could not spoil that
flavor. He must have more of it, and that at once! For what had he
watched and waited these long weeks if not for this very chance? Was he
to be driven from the feast by a little brown insect with a barb in the
end of its tail?
No indeed! No mere honey bee could make him turn back now.
Struggling still nearer that dark round hole from which the fragrance
issued he drew a long breath and plunged in.
[Illustration:
“My how his little black eyes danced with the delight of it!”
—Page 55
]
Another needle point, red hot, stung him, this time on the lid of his
right eye; and if the sting on his lip had tortured him, this was
something far, far worse. He whimpered unhappily, and rubbed the sore
place gently against his upraised foreleg.