BILLY HUNTS IN VAIN
All secrets, ’tis the law of fate,
Will be discovered soon or late.
_Billy Mink._
In vain Billy Mink searched for Rats in the big barn. The smell of them
was everywhere, but the Rats themselves had disappeared completely. Time
after time, following a trail, Billy was led to the opening out of doors
under the barn. It was clear that all the Rats had left the big barn,
and that all had gone out the same way.
“They’ve moved off somewhere,” thought Billy. “I frightened them so that
they didn’t dare stay here any longer. All have gone, young, old, big,
little, and middle-sized. There is no fun left for me here in the big
barn. I think I’ll follow them. Where they can go, I can go. They are a
gang of robbers. They are ugly, dirty, and of no account whatever. In
fact, they’re worse than that. They have so many babies at a time, and
have them so often, that there is danger that they will drive their
honest neighbors off the earth. Yes, I think I’ll follow them.”
Billy cautiously poked his head through the opening that led out of
doors. Then he blinked with surprise. Outside everything was spotlessly
white. It was snowing. It had been snowing for some time. Not a
footprint of a single Rat was to be seen. Moreover, there was no scent
for Billy to follow by means of his wonderful nose. The snow had covered
their trail. Billy could only lick his lips and wonder in which
direction those Rats had gone.
“If I knew more about this part of the country, I would know better
where to look for those Rats,” muttered Billy. “As it is, I haven’t been
here long enough to know about anything but this barn, the henhouse, and
the big woodpile between the two. I wonder if they can have moved over
to that woodpile or to the henhouse. The woodpile would give them
hiding-places, but they wouldn’t find anything to eat there. If they
have gone to the henhouse, they can hide underneath it and for food they
can steal eggs and perhaps kill a hen. I’ve known Rats to do just those
things. I’ve known them to kill chickens and then have the owner of the
chickens blame me or Jimmy Skunk for it. I hate Rats. Everybody else
does. I know nearly everybody, and I don’t know a single person who has
a good word to say for Robber the Rat and his gang. I think I’ll run
over to the henhouse to see if they are there.”
So Billy Mink went first to the big woodpile and from there to the
henhouse, but not so much as the smell of a Rat did he find in either
place.