WHEN Peter Rabbit, reaching up to nibble the bark of one of Farmer
Brown’s young trees, felt something tugging at one of his hind legs,
he was so startled that he jumped to get away. Instead of doing this,
he fell flat on his face. The thing on his hind leg had tightened and
held him fast. A great fear came to Peter Rabbit, and lying there in
the snow, he kicked and struggled with all his might. But the more he
kicked, the tighter grew that hateful thing on his leg! Finally he grew
too tired to kick any more and lay still. The dreadful thing that held
him hurt his leg, but it didn’t pull when he lay still.
When he had grown a little calmer, Peter sat up to examine the thing
which held him so fast. It was something like one of the blackberry
vines he had sometimes tripped over, only it was bright and shiny, and
had no branches or tiny prickers, and one end was fastened to a stake.
Peter tried to bite off the shiny thing, but even his great, sharp
front teeth couldn’t cut it. Then Peter knew what it was. It was wire!
It was a snare which Farmer Brown had set to catch him, and which he
had walked right into because he had been so greedy for the bark of the
young peach-tree that he had not used his eyes to look out for danger.
Oh, how Peter Rabbit did wish that he had not been so curious to know
what Farmer Brown had been doing that day, and that he had gone
straight home as he had meant to do, instead of trying to get one more
meal of young peach-bark! Big tears rolled down Peter’s cheeks. What
should he do? What _could_ he do? For a long time Peter sat in the
moonlight, trying to think of something to do. At last he thought of
the stake to which that hateful wire was fastened. The stake was of
wood, and Peter’s teeth would cut wood. Peter’s heart gave a great leap
of hope, and he began at once to dig away the snow from around the
stake, and then settled himself to gnaw the stake in two.
Peter had been hard at work on the stake a long time and had it a
little more than half cut through, when he heard a loud sniff down at
the other end of the orchard. He looked up to see—whom do you think?
Why, Bowser the Hound! He hadn’t seen Peter yet, but he had already
found Peter’s tracks, and it wouldn’t be but a few minutes before he
found Peter himself.
Poor Peter Rabbit! There wasn’t time to finish cutting off the stake.
What could he do? He made a frightened jump just as he had when he
first felt the wire tugging at his leg. Just as before, he was thrown
flat on his face. He scrambled to his feet and jumped again, only to be
thrown just as before. Just then Bowser the Hound saw him and opening
his mouth sent forth a great roar. Peter made one more frantic jump.
Snap! the stake had broken! Peter pitched forward on his head, turned a
somersault, and scrambled to his feet. He was free at last! That is, he
could run, but after him dragged a piece of the stake.
How Peter did run! It was hard work, for you know he had to drag that
piece of stake after him. But he did it, and just in time he crawled
into the old stone wall on one side of the orchard, while Bowser the
Hound barked his disappointment to the moon.