Mother West Wind "Where" Stories Part 8

Jerry Muskrat grinned. "Think you'll sleep any better if I tell you?"

he inquired.

Peter grinned back and nodded. So Jerry Muskrat told him this story:

"Way back in the days when the world was young, and the great-great-ever-so-great-grandfathers of all the little people of the Green Meadows and the Green Forest of today were being started out in life by Old Mother Nature, they had everything to learn. The Great World was a new place, and they were new in it. No one knew exactly his place or what was expected of him, and Old Mother Nature was too busy to be bothered with questions. She expected each one to work out for himself a way in which to make himself useful, or at least to take care of himself, without bothering her. If he couldn't do that, she didn't want him around at all, and the sooner something happened to him the better.

So the Great World began to be peopled with birds and animals.

"It didn't take them long to learn that it wouldn't be possible for all to live if they all ate the same kind of food. So some learned to eat one thing and some another, and all went happily until there came a time when all food was scarce, and more stomachs were empty than full. You've heard about that hard time and sad time?"

Peter nodded, and Jerry took a drink of water and then went on with his tale.

"Of course, that was really a very dreadful time, for it was then that the strong began to hunt the weak, and fear was born into the world. And yet I guess it wasn't wholly bad. Nothing is, so far as I can find out.

Anyway, because of that hard time, everybody became a little smarter than before. You know an empty stomach sharpens wit, and fear puts a fine edge on it. Now Mr. Osprey, who was one of the biggest of the cousins of old King Eagle, couldn't get over a feeling of meanness whenever he hunted those smaller than himself. One day he caught little Mr. Sparrow when little Mr. Sparrow was so busy that he forgot to watch out.

"'I'm powerful sorry, Mr. Sparrow,' apologized Mr. Osprey, 'but there's an emptiness just about your size in my stomach, and it won't give me any peace of mind until it's filled. I hate to make a neighbor uncomfortable, and I'll be just as quick and accommodating about this little matter as I can. If you'll just shut your eyes, you won't see anything unpleasant, and I won't be a minute in getting that peace of mind I've been without so long. I just must have it, or I wouldn't bother you at all. I hope you won't hold it against me, Mr. Sparrow.'

"Mr. Osprey was so nice and polite about it that little Mr. Sparrow perked up a little and started his wits working. He tried to be just as nice and polite as Mr. Osprey. 'I know just how you feel, Mr. Osprey,'

said he, in a trembling voice, 'and during these hard times I've had that same ailment of the mind because of lonesomeness of the stomach, which is troubling you. So long as that emptiness is filled, I don't suppose it matters to you if I shouldn't happen to fill it.'

"'Not at all,' replied Mr. Osprey.

"'Mr. Osprey,' said little Mr. Sparrow very earnestly, 'if I were in your place, I never would go hungry. No, Sir, I never would go hungry.

And I certainly never, never would trouble any of my neighbors who wear feathers. I certainly would feel most happy if Old Mother Nature had given me what she has given you. Indeed I would.'

"Mr. Osprey looked down at little Mr. Sparrow and blinked at him in a puzzled way. 'What has Old Mother Nature given me that you would be happy to have?' he asked.

"'Fishhooks!' replied little Mr. Sparrow, pointing to Mr. Osprey's great claws, 'the finest fishhooks in the world. You don't hear Billy Mink or Little Joe Otter or Mr. Heron complaining about hard times. Why? Because they don't know what hard times are. There are plenty of fish to be caught, and when they are hungry they go fis.h.i.+ng. Fish are very filling and satisfying, I've heard say. When I flew across the Smiling Pool a little while ago, I saw a fat fish taking a sun-bath right close to the top of the water. Seemed like he was just waiting for some one with hooks to come along and s.n.a.t.c.h him right out of the water.'

"'Where'd you say that fish was?' asked Mr. Osprey.

"'If you'll let me go, I'll show you,' replied little Mr. Sparrow.

"So Mr. Osprey let little Mr. Sparrow go, but he followed him right close. Mr. Sparrow led the way straight to the Smiling Pool. Sure enough, there was the big fish taking a sun-bath. Mr. Osprey hardly wet his feet putting those big hooks into that fish. He flew away with it, and presently he was rid of that emptiness in his stomach and had back his peace of mind. After that, whenever he was hungry, he went fis.h.i.+ng instead of hunting the birds and the animals. By practice he learned how to use those big fishhooks of his and became one of the smartest of all fishermen. He and little Mr. Sparrow became great friends, in fact, such friends that when Mr. Osprey built a great nest, little Mr. Sparrow built his right in the side of it, and there he was perfectly safe from others who might be hunting him. And it's been just that way ever since.

If you wore scales instead of fur, and lived in the water instead of on the land, Peter Rabbit, you would have reason to fear Plunger the Osprey, but as it is, you are safer when he is about than when he isn't.

There comes old Redtail the Hawk. You'd better get out of sight, Peter."

Peter did.

XIV

WHERE OLD MR. BOB-CAT LEFT HIS HONOR

Of all those who are forever trying to catch Peter Rabbit, he fears none more than Yowler the Bob-cat. And from that fear has grown hate. You will find it true all through life that hate often springs from great fear. Peter isn't much given to hate, but he does hate Yowler the Bob-cat. It is partly because of his fear of Yowler, but it is still more because he feels that Yowler is not fair in his hunting. He has no honor. There are many others whom Peter fears,--Reddy Fox, Old Man Coyote, Hooty the Owl,--and with very good reason. But Peter considers that these hunt him fairly. He knows when and where to be on the watch for them.

But with Yowler it is altogether different. Yowler hides beside one of Peter's favorite little paths, and there he waits patiently for unsuspecting Peter to come along. He waits and watches much as Black p.u.s.s.y, who is a cousin of Yowler, waits and watches at a mousehole.

Peter feels that it doesn't give him a chance, and everybody is ent.i.tled to at least a chance to live.

"I hate him! hate him! hate him!" exclaimed Peter fiercely, as he crawled under the very middle of a great pile of brush after the narrowest of narrow escapes. He had been hopping along one of his favorite little paths without a thought of danger. Presently he came to a little branch path. There he hesitated. He had intended to keep on along the main path, but suddenly he had a feeling that it would be better to take the branch path. He knew no reason why he shouldn't keep on as he had planned. It was just a feeling that it would be better to take the other path, a feeling without any real reason. So he hesitated and finally turned down the little branch path. As he did so he caught a glimpse of a brown form moving stealthily from behind a log farther up the main little path. It was moving swiftly in the direction of the little branch path. That glimpse was enough for Peter. That stealthy form could be but one person--Yowler the Bob-cat. He turned and darted back the way he had come and then off to one side to the great pile of brush under which he had crawled.

"Who is it you hate?" asked a voice.

For just a second Peter was startled, then he recognized the voice of Mrs. Grouse, one of his very best friends. "Yowler the Bob-cat," said he as fiercely as before.

"I don't love him myself," replied Mrs. Grouse. "I suspected that he was somewhere about, and that is why I am here. Did you see him?"

"Yes," said Peter, "I saw him. He was hiding beside my favorite little path, and it is a wonder I didn't hop straight into his jaws. That fellow doesn't hunt fairly. He doesn't give us a chance. He hasn't any honor."

"Honor!" exclaimed Mrs. Grouse. "Honor! Of course he hasn't any honor.

There hasn't been any honor in Yowler's family since old Mr. Bob-cat, the first of all the Bob-cats, left his honor in Turkey Wood, way back in the days when the world was young, and failed to get it again. Honor!

Of course Yowler hasn't any. What could you expect?"

At once Peter was all ears. "I've never heard about that," said he.

"Tell me about it, Mrs. Grouse. We've got to stay right where we are for a long time to make sure that Yowler has given us up and gone away, so you will have plenty of time to tell me the story. Where was Turkey Wood, and how did old Mr. Bob-cat happen to leave his honor there?"

"He didn't happen to; he did it deliberately," replied Mrs. Grouse. "You see, it was like this: In the beginning of things, when Old Mother Nature made the first little people and the first big people of the Green Forest and the Green Meadows, she was too busy to watch over them all the time, so for a while she put them on their honor not to harm one another or interfere with one another in any way, for she wanted them to live in peace and happiness and raise families to people the Great World.

"Now it chanced that Mr. and Mrs. Gobbler, the first of the Turkey family, chose a certain little grove of trees in which to make their home, and it became known as Turkey Wood. There, in course of time, Mrs.

Turkey made her nest on the ground, well hidden among some bushes, and in it laid twelve big eggs. It was the day on which she laid the twelfth big egg that old Mr. Bob-cat, who, of course, wasn't old then, took it into his head to prowl about in Turkey Wood. Already Mr. Bob-cat had begun to form a sneaky habit of stealth. He was very fond of watching his neighbors to find out what they were about, and it was this fondness of minding the business of other people instead of his own that was making him sneaky and stealthy, for of course he didn't want any one to know what he was doing.

"It happened that as he stole into Turkey Wood, Mrs. Gobbler left her nest to get a bite to eat. Mr. Bob-cat saw her, but she didn't see him.

He crouched flat until she was out of sight.

"'She seemed mighty careful about how she slipped out of those bushes,'

thought Mr. Bob-cat. 'She acted as if she didn't want to be seen. I wonder why. I wonder if she has a secret hidden in those bushes. I suppose the way to find out is to look.'

"First making sure that no one saw him, Mr. Bob-cat crept in his sneaky way into the bushes, and it didn't take him long to find that nest with the twelve big eggs. He didn't know what they were, for they were the first eggs he had ever seen. He stared at them and wondered if they were good to eat. He glanced this way and that way to be sure that no one was watching him.

"'Don't touch them,' warned something inside of him. 'These belong to Mrs. Gobbler, and Old Mother Nature has put you on your honor not to interfere with others or their affairs.'

"'It won't do any harm just to touch them and see what they are like,'

said another little tempting voice inside of him.

"'Remember your honor,' warned the first little voice.

"'Bother my honor! I'm not going to do any harm,' muttered Mr. Bob-cat, and picked up one of the eggs in his mouth. He tried it with his teeth to see if it was hard, and of course he put his teeth right through the sh.e.l.l. He started to put it back in a hurry, but just then he noticed a good taste in his mouth. The inside of that egg was good to eat, very good indeed!

"'One won't be missed,' thought Mr. Bob-cat, and then, fearing that Mrs.

Gobbler would return, he bounded away, taking the egg with him.

"When Mrs. Gobbler returned, she did miss that egg. She looked all about for it, but there was nothing to show what had become of it. With a troubled mind she began to sit on her eggs. She was so worried that she didn't leave them until she simply _had_ to get something to eat.

"Meanwhile Mr. Bob-cat had eaten that egg, and it had tasted so good that he could think of nothing but how he could get another. So at the first opportunity he sneaked back to Turkey Wood, and without making a sound crept in among the bushes until he could see Mrs. Gobbler sitting on her eggs. There he lay and watched and watched until Mrs. Gobbler left to get something to eat. No sooner was she out of sight than Mr.

Bob-cat stole to the nest.