NIBBLE FOOLS OUPHE IN HIS OWN HAYSTACK
The little rabbit crouched down in the bole in the bottom of the
haystack not three feet away from the wicked rat. But Ouphe hadn’t
seen him. He was sure of it because Ouphe kept squalling at the
sparrows all the nastiest things he could put his tongue to. And the
sparrows, swinging from a branch of the elm tree that leaned above
him, weren’t much more polite.
“Swapping lies with the field-mice, were you?” sneered Ouphe. “I’ll
attend to them.”
“It wasn’t lies,” shrieked Chirp Sparrow indignantly. “Didn’t you come
sneaking and creeping—just the way you always do? Thought you’d climb
up the other side of the stack and surprise us when we weren’t
expecting you, didn’t you? And isn’t that exactly what I said? Let me
tell you, you’re one thing we always do expect. You’ll maybe catch us
when you learn to fly—but not before.”
“I’ll catch you when I clean out these tattle-tales of field-mice,”
snapped Ouphe, and he gnashed his teeth until the froth made his
whiskers white.
“It wasn’t the field-mice, Smarty! They never said a word. It was your
own scaly tail that told on you.” Chirp spread his wings, opened his
beak and stuck out his tongue at the wicked old beast. And Ouphe
lashed his own tattling tail in an awful rage.
“It wasn’t the field-mice, was it?” he snarled. “Then who were you
talking to? I’ll slit your gossiping throat for you!”
[Illustration: Tommy held Nibble up by his long ears]
And right about then Nibble decided it was time to move. But he didn’t
try to run. You see, Ouphe would have pounced on him. He turned softly
around and slipped into the stack behind him.
And a queer place he found himself in. For the whole bottom of the hay
was tunneled with holes. They went this way and that, twisting and
turning until he lost himself entirely. And they were a tight fit for
even a little rabbit to creep through. And dark! My, but that place
was dark and scary—it was the darkest place Nibble had ever seen,
darker even than a night when there isn’t any moon! And stuffy! For
besides the sweet smell of the clover there was a horrible smothery
weaselly one.
Pretty soon something caught his foot and he was so scared he gave a
little “Ow!” But it was only a piece of wire and he soon got free
again. All the same he heard a tiny scratch beside him which scared
him more than ever.
Right then a voice, even tinier than the scratch, whispered, “Who’s
there!”
“Nibble Rabbit!” he whispered back.
“A rabbit!” exclaimed the voice, “I knew I smelled one. Whatever are
you doing here? This is where Ouphe the Rat lives when he’s at home.”
At that Nibble gave a little jump. But he just struck the top of the
tunnel and pricked his soft, loppy ear in the hay. So he went back to
crawling, all blind and scared in the blackness, trying to stifle his
sniffles and tasting the salt tears that rolled down his nose. And all
around him he seemed to see the long yellow teeth and the frothy
whiskers of Ouphe, parted in a wicked grin.
Suddenly he struck something small and soft. And the tiny voice
whispered: “Take my tail in your mouth and follow me. But don’t bite
too hard.”
Nibble Rabbit opened his mouth and caught hold of a slim thing, like a
little round stalk of grass, that was tickling his eyebrows. And he
knew it was a field-mouse’s tail. It twitched as her little feet
started running through the inky black tunnels Ouphe the Rat had made
for himself. And the way she turned and twisted made Nibble afraid she
didn’t know for sure just where she was going. It was no wonder that
he had got lost among them!
But he scrambled along behind her as fast as he could. And at last
they made a sharp turn and Nibble could see the snow outside
glistening in the sun. My, how nice it seemed when he reached it,
though it made his eyes blink. And when he tried to thank the
field-mouse she had disappeared.
He crept around the edge of the haystack, looking for where his tracks
led into it, so he could follow them back to the Woods again. At the
second corner he caught sight of the sparrows, still swinging in the
elm tree, just as he had left them before he hid in Ouphe’s own hole.
Of course he waited to hear whether Ouphe were still on that side of
the stack. Nibble didn’t want to be chased by him.
And right then Chirp sang out, “It was a rabbit we were talking to.
He’s been sitting there all the while in that hole below you.”
Nibble simply couldn’t believe his ears. It sounded as though Chirp
wanted Ouphe to get him. But Chirp knew what he was doing. For he
flashed “Wait!” with two white feathers in his tail. Chirp knows a
thing or two, if he is conceited, and he signalled so plainly any
rabbit would know what he meant by it. But a rat wouldn’t.
You ought to have seen the change that came over Ouphe. He quickly
cleaned his whiskers and began to talk as though he had honey in his
throat. “What? A rabbit? Why, Mr. Sparrow, how could you keep me here
playing jokes when I had a visitor? That was very unkind of you. I
must invite him in and make him at home.”
He said it so Nibble wouldn’t be afraid of him and begin to run.
Because then he’d have a fine hunt through all those twisty black
tunnels to find him. But Nibble knew mighty well that he was only
pretending. When he snarled out that he’d “slit Chirp’s throat” and
“crunch the bones of his baby birds” Ouphe had meant every wicked word
of it.
“Ha, ha!” laughed Chirp. “You’re so funny, Mr. Ouphe, we don’t quite
know how to take you. That rabbit just stepped inside when he heard
you invite him. I saw his tail.”
“Wait for me, Mr. Rabbit,” said Ouphe in his sticky, sweet voice, “I’d
like to eat with you. And we’ll invite my dear little friends the
field-mice too.” He said that because he knew perfectly well Nibble
had heard him call them “tattle-tales.” And he thumped down right into
Nibble’s rabbity tracks where they went into the stack.
“All safe. Come ahead!” flashed Chirp. And he actually winked those
tail-feathers. So Nibble bounced out and made some more tracks in the
nice crunchy snow. But they went away from where Ouphe was hunting
crossly through his black tunnels under the hay.
“Ka-runch-it, ka-runch-it!” sang his furry feet in the crispy snow,
running away from Ouphe the Rat and his haystack. “Ka-flick-it,
ka-flick-it!” twiddled his puffy tail as he passed under the elm
branch where the sparrows were chuckling to themselves. That was his
“Thank you.”
“I’d better not talk,” thought Nibble, “for fear Ouphe might hear me.
All the same I call Chirp Sparrow pretty smart. He waited until he saw
I’d come safely through Ouphe’s scary dark tunnels under the hay and
then he sent Ouphe in there to look for me while I skip off. Only I
wish I’d thanked that field-mouse who showed me the way out of Ouphe’s
holes. I’ll do something for her some day.” And he did. You wait and
see.