It was not often that Tommy caught so much as a glimpse of Billy Mink;
and every time he did, he had the feeling that he had been smart, very
smart indeed. The funny thing is that this feeling annoyed Tommy. Yes,
it did. It annoyed him because it seemed so very foolish to think
that there was anything smart in just _seeing_ Billy Mink. And yet
every time he did see him, he had the feeling that he had really done
something out of the usual.
Little by little, he realized that it was because Billy Mink himself is
so smart, and manages to keep out of sight so much of the time, that
just seeing him once in a while gave him the feeling of being smarter
than Billy.
At the same time, he was never quite sure that Billy didn’t intend to
be seen. Somehow that little brown-coated scamp always seemed to be
playing with him. He would appear so suddenly that Tommy never could
tell just where he came from. And he would disappear quite as quickly.
Tommy never could tell where he went. He just vanished, that was all.
It was this that made Tommy feel that he had been smart to see him at
all.
Now Tommy had been acquainted with Billy Mink for a long time. That is
to say, he had known Billy by sight. More than that, he had tried to
trap Billy, and in trying to trap him he had learned some of Billy’s
ways. In fact, Tommy had spent a great deal of time trying to catch
Billy. You see, he wanted that little brown fur coat of Billy’s because
he could sell it. But it was very clear that Billy wanted that little
fur coat himself to wear, and also that he knew all about traps.
So Billy still wore his coat, and Tommy had taken up his traps and
put them away with a sigh for the money which he had hoped that that
coat would bring him, and with a determination that, when cold weather
should come again, he would get it. You see it was summer now, and the
little fur coat was of no value then save to Billy himself.
In truth, Tommy would have forgotten all about it until autumn came
again had not Billy suddenly popped out in front of him that very
morning, while Tommy was trying to catch a trout in a certain quiet
pool in the Laughing Brook deep in the Green Forest. Tommy had been
sitting perfectly still, like the good fisherman that he was, not
making the tiniest sound, when he just seemed to feel two eyes fixed
on him. Very, very slowly Tommy turned his head. He did it so slowly
that it almost seemed as if he didn’t move it at all. But careful as he
was, he had no more than a bare glimpse of a little brown animal, who
disappeared as by magic.
“It’s that mink,” thought Tommy, and continued to stare at the spot
where he had last seen Billy. The rustle of a leaf almost behind him
caused him to forget and to turn quickly. Again he had just a glimpse
of something brown. Then it was gone. Where, he hadn’t the least idea.
It was gone, that was all.
Tommy forgot all about trout. It was more fun to try to get a good look
at Billy Mink and to see what he was doing and where he was going.
Tommy remembered all that he had been taught or had read about how to
act when trying to watch his little wild neighbors and he did the best
he could, but all he got was a fleeting glimpse now and then which was
most tantalizing. At last he gave up and reeled in his fish-line. Then
he started for home. All the way he kept thinking of Billy Mink. He
couldn’t get Billy out of his head.
Little by little he realized how, when all was said and done, he
didn’t know anything about Billy. That is, he didn’t really _know_--he
just guessed at things.
“And here he is one of my neighbors,” thought Tommy. “I know a great
deal about Peter Rabbit, and Chatterer the Red Squirrel, and Reddy Fox,
and a lot of others, but I don’t know anything about Billy Mink, and
he’s too smart to let me find out. Huh! he needn’t be so secret about
everything. I’m not going to hurt him.”
Then into Tommy’s head crept a guilty remembrance of those traps. A
little flush crept into Tommy’s face. “Anyway, I’m not going to hurt
him _now_,” he added.
By this time he had reached the great gray stone on the edge of the
Green Meadows, the wishing-stone. Just as a matter of course he sat
down on the edge of it. He never could get by without sitting down on
it.
It was a very beautiful scene that stretched out before Tommy, but,
though he seemed to be gazing out at it, he didn’t see it at all.
He was looking through unseeing eyes. The fact is, he was too busy
thinking, and his thoughts were all of Billy Mink. It must be great fun
to be able to go and come any hour of the day or night, and to be so
nimble and smart.
“I wish I were a mink,” said Tommy, slowly and very earnestly.
Of course you know what happened then. The same thing happened that
had happened before on the old wishing-stone. Tommy was the very thing
he had wished to be. He was a mink. Yes, sir, Tommy was a tiny furry
little fellow, with brothers and sisters and the nicest little home, in
a hollow log hidden among bulrushes, close by the Laughing Brook and
with a big pile of brush near it. Indeed, one end of the old log was
under the brush-pile.
That made the very safest kind of a play-ground for the little minks.
It was there that Mother Mink gave them their first lessons in a game
called “Now-you-see-me-now-you-don’t.” They thought they were just
playing, but all the time they were learning something that would be
most important and useful to them when they were older.
Tommy was very quick to learn and just as quick in his movements, so
that it wasn’t long before he could out-run, out-dodge, and out-hide
any of his companions, and Mother Mink began to pay special attention
to his education. She was proud of him, and because she was proud of
him she intended to teach him all the mink lore which she knew.
So Tommy was the first of the family to be taken fishing. Ever since
he and his brothers and sisters had been big enough to eat solid food,
they had had fish as a part of their bill of fare, and there was
nothing that Tommy liked better. Where they came from, he had never
bothered to ask. All he cared about was the eating of them. But now
he was actually going to catch some, and he felt very important as he
glided along behind his mother.
Presently they came to a dark, deep pool in the Laughing Brook. Mrs.
Mink peered into its depths. There was the glint of something silvery
down there in the brown water. In a flash Mrs. Mink had disappeared in
the pool, entering the water so smoothly as to hardly make a splash.
For a moment Tommy saw her dark form moving swiftly, then he lost it.
His little eyes blazed with eagerness and excitement as he watched.
Ha! What was that? There was something moving under water on the other
side of the pool. Then out popped the brown head of Mrs. Mink and in
her teeth was a fat trout. Tommy’s mouth watered at the sight. What a
feast he would have!
[Illustration: OUT POPPED THE BROWN HEAD OF MRS. MINK AND IN HER TEETH
WAS A FAT TROUT]
But instead of bringing the fish to him, Mrs. Mink climbed out on the
opposite bank and disappeared in the brush there. Tommy swallowed
hard with disappointment. Could it be that he wasn’t to have any
of it after all? In a few minutes Mrs. Mink was back again, but there
was no sign of the fish. Then Tommy knew that she had hidden it, and
for just a minute a wicked thought popped into his head. He would swim
across and hunt for it. But Mother Mink didn’t give him a chance.
Though Tommy didn’t see it, there was a twinkle in her eyes as she said,
“Now you have seen how easy it is to catch a fish, I shall expect you
to catch all you eat hereafter. Come along with me to the next pool and
show me how well you have learned your lesson.”
She led the way down the Laughing Brook, and presently they came to
another little brown pool. Eagerly Tommy peered into it. At first he
saw nothing. Then, almost under him, he discovered a fat trout lazily
watching for a good meal to come along. With a great splash Tommy dived
into the pool. For just a second he closed his eyes as he struck the
water. When he opened them, the trout was nowhere to be seen. Tommy
looked very crest-fallen and foolish as he crawled up on the bank,
where Mother Mink was laughing at him.
“How do you expect to catch fish when you splash like that?” she asked.
Tommy didn’t know, so he said nothing. “Now you come with me and
practise on little fish first,” she continued and led him to a shallow
pool in which a school of minnows were at play.
Now Tommy was particularly fond of trout, as all Mink are, and he
was inclined to turn up his nose at minnows. But he wisely held his
tongue and prepared to show that he had learned his lesson. This time
he slipped into the water quietly and then made a swift dash at the
nearest minnow. He missed it quite as Mother Mink had expected he
would. But now his dander was up. He would catch one of those minnows
if it took him all the rest of the day! Three times he tried and
missed, but the fourth time his sharp little teeth closed on a finny
victim and he proudly swam ashore with the fish.
“Things you catch yourself always taste best,” said Mother Mink. “Now
we’ll go over on the meadows and catch some mice.”
Tommy scowled. “I want to catch some more fish,” said he.
“Not the least bit of use for you to try,” retorted Mother Mink. “Don’t
you see that you have frightened those minnows so that they have left
the pool? Besides, it is time that you learned to hunt as well as fish,
and you’ll find it is just as much fun.”
Tommy doubted it, but he obediently trotted along at the heels of
Mother Mink out onto the Green Meadows. Presently they came to a tiny
little path through the meadow grasses. Mother Mink sniffed in it and
Tommy did the same. There was the odor of meadow-mouse, and once more
Tommy’s mouth watered. He quite forgot about the fish. Mother Mink
darted ahead and presently Tommy heard a faint squeak. He hurried
forward to find Mother Mink with a fat meadow-mouse. Tommy smacked his
lips, but she took no notice. Instead, she calmly ate the meadow-mouse
herself.
Tommy didn’t need to be told that if he wanted meadow-mouse he would
have to catch one for himself. With a little angry toss of his head he
trotted off along the little path. Presently he came to another. His
nose told him a meadow-mouse had been along that way recently. With his
nose to the ground he began to run.
Other little paths branched off from the one he was in. Tommy paid no
attention to them until suddenly he realized that he no longer smelled
meadow-mouse. He kept on a little farther, hoping that he would find
that entrancing smell again. But he didn’t, so he stopped to consider.
Then he turned and ran back, keeping his nose to the ground. So he
came to one of those little branch paths and there he caught the smell
of meadow-mouse again. He turned into the little branch path and the
smell grew stronger. He ran faster.
Then his quick ears caught the sound of scurrying feet ahead of him. He
darted along, and there, running for his life, was a fat meadow-mouse.
Half a dozen bounds brought Tommy up with him, whereupon the mouse
turned to fight. Now the mouse was big and a veteran, and Tommy was
only a youngster. It was his first fight. For just a second he paused
at the sight of the sharp little teeth confronting him. Then he sprang
into his first fight.
The fierce lust of battle filled him. His eyes blazed red. There was
a short sharp struggle and then the mouse went limp and lifeless. Very
proudly Tommy dragged it out to where Mother Mink was waiting. She
would have picked it up and carried it easily, but Tommy wasn’t big
enough for that.
After that Tommy went hunting or fishing every day. Sometimes the whole
family went, and such fun as they would have! One day they would hunt
frogs around the edge of the Smiling Pool. Again they would visit a
swamp and dig out worms and insects. But best of all they liked to hunt
the meadow-mice.
So the long summer wore away and the family kept together. But as the
cool weather of the fall came, Tommy grew more and more restless. He
wanted to see the Great World. Sometimes he would go off and be gone
two or three days at a time. Then one day he bade the old home good-by
forever, though he didn’t know it at the time. He simply started
off, following the Laughing Brook to the Great River, in search of
adventure. And in the joy of exploring new fields he forgot all about
home.
He was a fine big fellow by this time and very smart in the ways of
the Mink world. Life was just a grand holiday. He hunted or fished
when he was hungry, and when he was tired he curled up in the nearest
hiding-place and slept. Sometimes it was in a hollow log or stump.
Again it was in an old rock-pile or under a heap of brush. When he
had slept enough, he was off again on his travels, and it made no
difference to him whether it was night or day. He just ate when he
pleased, slept when he pleased, and wandered on where and when he
pleased.
He was afraid of no one. Once in a while a fox would try to catch him
or a fierce hawk would swoop at him, but Tommy would dodge like a
flash, and laugh as he ducked into some hole or other hiding-place. He
had learned that quickness of movement often is more than a match for
mere size and strength. So he was not afraid of any of his neighbors,
for those he was not strong enough to fight he was clever enough to
elude.
He could run swiftly, climb like a squirrel, and swim like a fish.
Because he was so slim, he could slip into all kinds of interesting
holes and dark corners, and explore stone and brush piles. In fact he
could go almost anywhere he pleased. His nose was as keen as that of a
dog. He was always testing the air or sniffing at the ground for the
odor of other little people who had passed that way. When he was hungry
and ran across the trail of some one he fancied, he would follow it
just as Bowser the Hound follows the trail of Reddy Fox. Sometimes he
would follow the trail of Reddy himself, just to see what he was doing.
For the most part he kept near water. He dearly loved to explore a
brook, running along beside it, swimming the pools, investigating every
hole in the banks and the piles of drift stuff. When he was feeling
lazy and there were no fish handy, he would catch a frog or two, or a
couple of pollywogs, or a crayfish.
Occasionally he would leave the low land and the water for the high
land and hunt rabbits and grouse. Sometimes he surprised other ground
birds. Once he visited a farmyard and, slipping into the hen-house at
night, killed three fat hens. Of course he could not eat the whole of
even one.
Tommy asked no favors of any one. His was a happy, care-free life.
To be sure he had few friends save among his own kind, but he didn’t
mind this. He rather enjoyed the fact that all who were smaller, and
some who were larger, than he feared him. He was lithe and strong and
wonderfully quick.
Fighting was a joy. It was this as much as anything that led him into
a fight with a big muskrat, much bigger than himself. The muskrat
was stout, and his great teeth looked dangerous. But he was slow and
clumsy in his movements compared with Tommy, and, though he was full
of courage and fought hard, the battle was not long. After that Tommy
hunted muskrats whenever the notion seized him.
Winter came, but Tommy minded it not at all. His thick fur coat kept
him warm, and the air was like tonic in his veins. It was good to be
alive. He hunted rabbits in the snow. He caught fish at spring-holes
in the ice. He traveled long distances under the ice, running along
the edge of the water where it had fallen away from the frozen crust,
swimming when he had to, investigating muskrat holes, and now and then
surprising the tenant.
Unlike his small cousin, Shadow the Weasel, he seldom hunted and killed
just for the fun of killing. Sometimes, when fishing was especially
good and he caught more than he could use, he would hide them away
against a day of need. In killing, the mink is simply obeying the law
of Old Mother Nature, for she has given him flesh-eating teeth, and
without meat he could not live. In this respect he is no worse than
man, for man kills to live.
For the most of the time, Tommy was just a happy-go-lucky traveler,
who delighted in exploring new places and who saw more of the Great
World than most of his neighbors. The weather never bothered him. He
liked the sun, but he would just as soon travel in the rain. When a
fierce snow-storm raged, he traveled under the ice along the bed of
the nearest brook or river. It was just the life he had dreamed of as
a boy. He was an adventurer, a freebooter, and all the world was his.
He had no work. He had no fear, for as yet he had not encountered man.
Hooty the Owl by night and certain of the big hawks by day were all he
had to watch out for, and these he did not really fear, for he felt
himself too smart for them.
But at last he did learn fear. It came to him when he discovered
another Mink fast in a trap. He didn’t understand those strange jaws
which bit into the flesh and held and yet were not alive. He hid
near-by and watched, and he saw a great two-legged creature come and
take the mink away. Then, cautiously, Tommy investigated. He caught
the odor of the man scent, and a little chill of fear ran down his
backbone.
But in spite of all his care there came a fateful day. He was running
along a brook in shallow water when snap! from the bottom of the brook
itself the dreadful jaws sprang up and caught him by a leg. There had
been no smell of man to give him warning, for the running water had
carried it away. Tommy gave a little shriek as he felt the dreadful
thing, and then--he was just Tommy, sitting on the wishing-stone.
He stared thoughtfully over at the Green Forest. Then he shuddered. You
see he remembered just how he had felt when that trap had snapped on
his leg. “I don’t want your fur coat, Billy Mink,” said he, just as if
Billy could hear him. “If it wasn’t for traps, you surely would enjoy
life. Just the same I wouldn’t trade places with you, not even if I do
have to hoe corn just when I want to go swimming!”
And with this, Tommy started for home and the hoe, and somehow the task
didn’t look so very dreadful after all.