BILLY IS DISCOVERED
Before you act be sure you _know_
That what you _think_ is really so.
_Billy Mink._
After the Rats left the big barn, Billy Mink found it less easy to get
plenty to eat. There were Mice in the big barn, and for several days
Billy managed to catch enough of these to keep from going hungry. But
Mice can get into places too small for Billy to follow, and those that
were left soon learned to keep out of his way.
Then Billy’s thoughts turned to the hens in the henhouse. He had not
intended to kill any of those hens, because he knew that as soon as he
did, the farmer who owned them would hunt for him, and then he would
have to move on. He was so comfortably located in the woodpile that he
was not anxious to move on. But one must eat, and now that the Rats had
disappeared and the Mice had learned to keep out of his way, Billy’s
thoughts turned to those hens.
It was the very night after the fire which the Rats had started in the
back shed of the farmhouse that Billy made up his mind to have a chicken
dinner. He slipped under the henhouse and up through a hole in the
corner which he already knew about. All the hens were roosting high,
fast asleep with their heads under their wings. Had Reddy Fox been in
Billy Mink’s place, he would have been somewhat puzzled as to how he
might catch one of those hens. But Billy wasn’t puzzled. Not a bit of
it. You see, Billy can climb almost like a Squirrel. Reddy Fox would
have had to jump, and probably would have awakened and frightened the
whole flock. Billy Mink simply climbed up to one of the roosts, stole
along it to the nearest hen, and with one quick snap of his stout little
jaws, he killed that hen without even waking her.
Now, had Billy’s cousin, Shadow the Weasel, been in his place, he would
have gone right on killing those hens from sheer love of killing. But
Billy Mink killed that hen simply because he must have something to eat,
and one hen was more than enough to furnish him a dinner. When he had
finished his dinner, he went back to his snug bed under the big
woodpile.
Of course, when the farmer came out to feed the hens in the morning he
discovered what had happened. He didn’t know who had killed that hen,
but he knew that it must have been some one very small to have gotten
into the henhouse. He hunted about until he found the hole in the dark
corner. He knew that that hole had been made by a Rat, and at first he
thought it must have been Rats who killed that hen and this increased
his anger.
That afternoon he happened to look out of the barn door towards the
woodpile, and he was just in time to see a slim, brown form whisk out of
sight under the wood.
“Ha, ha!” exclaimed the farmer. “Now I know who the thief is. There is a
Mink in that woodpile. He is the fellow who killed that hen last night.
I think, Mr. Mink, we’ll make you pay for that hen with your brown
coat.”