The Tale of Master Meadow Mouse Part 7

"You're a queer one," he remarked. "Anyhow, you can't say I didn't warn you. If there's a flood when the fall rains come, and you get drowned out, you can't say it's my fault."

"Certainly not!" cried Master Meadow Mouse. "And I thank you for your kind advice. But I'm not going to be drowned out. I can swim."

Long Bill Wren shook his head.

"I hope you'll escape," he said. "I shall not be here to know whether you do or not. For we're starting for the South to-morrow. But I hope to find you safe and sound next May, when I return." And then he went home, to tell his wife that Master Meadow Mouse was a very daring young fellow.

Master Meadow Mouse built himself a house under the bank of Black Creek.

And later the rain fell heavily for several days and nights, just as Long Bill Wren had expected. The creek rose fast. Yet Master Meadow Mouse didn't worry. When the water lapped at his doorway he only laughed. And when it caught at his house and bore it downstream Master Meadow Mouse held his fat sides and roared.

The flood brought much rubbish with it. But Master Meadow Mouse saw nothing that took his fancy until at last a floating board caught his eye.

Master Meadow Mouse swam out to it and scrambled upon it.

"Hurrah!" he squeaked as the board carried him along with the current.

"This is fine! I've got a raft. And I'll go a-traveling."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

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16

On the Raft

A BOARD was floating along on the swollen waters of Black Creek. On it sat Master Meadow Mouse. He was very happy. He was having his first ride, of any sort.

"This raft--" he said to himself proudly--"this raft belongs to me. I'll be a traveler. I'll see the world--at least as far as the big willow at the lower end of the meadow!"

He scarcely cared to go beyond the big willow. Beyond it lay another farm. And Master Meadow Mouse had never been off Farmer Green's place in his whole life. He feared that he might not be able to find his way back, if he ventured too far from home.

Soon he spied a friend on the bank of the creek. Master Meadow Mouse cried, "Good-by!" and waved a paw at him.

The person on the bank was one of his many cousins. And when he caught sight of Master Meadow Mouse he stared hard for a few moments. Then he shouted, "Don't jump! I'll rescue you." He was already running to the water's edge when Master Meadow Mouse stopped him.

"I don't want to be rescued," he called. "I'm seeing the world."

His cousin hurried along the bank, still watching the strange sight.

"It seems to me--" he told Master Meadow Mouse--"it seems to me that the world is seeing you. Where would you hide if Henry Hawk discovered you?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Master Meadow Mouse drifted toward Mr. Heron]

Master Meadow Mouse did not answer. To tell the truth, the question set him to thinking. He had to admit that it might be a bit awkward to find any cover in case somebody or other made a sudden swoop at him.

"Oh, well!" he said at last. "It can't be helped. There's always _some_ danger in traveling--so I've heard."

His cousin on the bank had stopped running and now stood still and watched him anxiously until the raft had borne Master Meadow Mouse out of sight around a bend.

As the flood swung the craft toward the further side of the creek Master Meadow Mouse beheld a long-legged fisherman standing in the water. Not only did the fisherman have long legs. He had a long bill as well. And he was standing like a statue, waiting for a fish to swim past him. A fish, or a frog, or a mouse! He didn't care which.

Master Meadow Mouse knew him at once. He was Mr. Great Blue Heron--or plain "G. B." as he preferred to be called. While Master Meadow Mouse gazed at him in horror Mr. Heron swiftly thrust his spearlike bill into the water. Even his head went out of sight for a moment.

Mr. Heron did not do that in order to cool his head. Ah, no! When he pulled his bill out of the creek a pickerel came with it. And the pickerel vanished very quickly down Mr. Heron's long neck.

It was not a nice sight for Master Meadow Mouse to see, especially when he was on a pleasure trip. Besides, he noticed with dismay that his raft was bearing him straight towards the fisherman.

"If I only had some oars, or a rudder, I could steer this old raft away from him," Master Meadow Mouse thought. But he had nothing of the sort.

Master Meadow Mouse groaned.

"I wish I'd never gone a-traveling!"

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17

A Lucky Escape

NEARER and nearer the board, with Master Meadow Mouse upon it, drifted around the bend of the creek toward Mr. Great Blue Heron. And at last Mr. Heron noticed it. And he noticed its pa.s.senger, too.

"Ahem!" he said softly to himself. Except for swallowing once or twice, he never made a move, but stood there in the water and waited. He waited for Master Meadow Mouse's raft to drift closer; for it was plain to him--as to Master Meadow Mouse--that the current of Black Creek was slowly bearing the board straight down upon him. "When it gets near enough I'll just reach out and pluck that fellow off," Mr. Heron promised himself with a sort of silent chuckle.

Meanwhile Master Meadow Mouse was having a very bad quarter of an hour.

Slowly though his craft moved, to him it seemed to travel with lightning speed.

"I'll pa.s.s him soon," Master Meadow Mouse thought. "If I crouch down and make myself as small as possible perhaps he won't see me."

So he hugged the board tight. But the closer he came to Mr. Heron the bigger and fiercer that gentleman looked.

Suddenly Master Meadow Mouse's courage oozed out through his toes. He couldn't stay on his raft another second. Springing to his feet, he scurried to the edge of the board and slipped off it into the water.

At his first move Mr. Heron moved too. He lifted his great wings and flapped them, tucking his legs under his body at the same time. A half dozen flaps carried him abreast of the floating board. And there Mr.

Heron let his long legs down into the water until he stood again upon the bottom of the creek. He scanned the water eagerly, even plunging his head into it and looking all around. But he couldn't see Master Meadow Mouse anywhere.

"This is queer," he mumbled. "I knew those fellows were good swimmers.

But I didn't think this one could get away from me so quickly."

Mr. Great Blue Heron waded about the creek for some time, searching everywhere--or almost everywhere. And while he was searching, the deserted raft swung off down the creek, hung for a few moments at the edge of the channel, and then drifted lazily toward sh.o.r.e, where it lodged at last among the reeds.