When old Granny Fox had laid down the chicken she was bringing home to Reddy Fox to try to catch Peter Rabbit, she had meant to go right back and get it as soon as she had caught Peter. Now she saw Peter going across the Green Meadows, lipperty-lipperty-lip, as fast as he could go. She was so angry that she hopped up and down. She tore up the grass and ground her long, white teeth. She glared up at Ol' Mistah Buzzard, who had warned Peter Rabbit, but all she could do was to scold, and that didn't do her much good, for in a few minutes Ol' Mistah Buzzard was so far up in the blue, blue sky that he couldn't hear a word she was saying. My, my, but old Granny Fox certainly was angry! If she hadn't been so angry she might have seen Johnny Chuck lying as flat as he could make himself behind a big clump of grass.
Johnny Chuck was scared. Yes, indeed, Johnny Chuck was dreadfully scared. He had fought Reddy Fox and whipped him, but he knew that old Granny Fox would be too much for him. So it was with great relief that Johnny Chuck saw her stop tearing up the grass and trot over to see how Reddy Fox was getting along. Then Johnny Chuck crept along until he was far enough away to run. How he did run! He was so fat and roly-poly that he was all out of breath when he reached home, and so tired that he just dropped down on his doorstep and panted.
“Serves me right for having so much curiosity,” said Johnny Chuck to himself.
Reddy Fox looked up as old Granny Fox came hurrying home. He was weak and very, very hungry. But he felt sure that old Granny Fox would bring him something nice for his breakfast, and as soon as he heard her footsteps his mouth began to water.
“Did you bring me something nice, Granny?” asked Reddy Fox.
Now old Granny Fox had been so put out by the scare she had had and by her failure to catch Peter Rabbit that she had forgotten all about the chicken she had left up on the hill. When Reddy spoke, she remembered it, and the thought of having to go way back after it didn't improve her temper a bit.
“No!” she snapped. “I haven't!—You don't deserve any breakfast anyway. If you had any gumption”—that's the word Granny Fox used, gumption—“if you had any gumption at all, you wouldn't have gotten in trouble, and could get your own breakfast.”
Reddy Fox didn't know what gumption meant, but he did know that he was very, very hungry, and do what he would, he couldn't keep back a couple of big tears of disappointment. Granny Fox saw them.
“There, there, Reddy! Don't cry. I've got a fine fat chicken for you up on the hill, and I'll run back and get it,” said Granny Fox.
So off she started up the hill to the place where she had left the chicken when she started to try to catch Peter Rabbit. When she got there, there wasn't any chicken. No, Sir, there was no chicken at all—just a few feathers. Granny Fox could hardly believe her own eyes. She looked this way and she looked that way, but there was no chicken, just a few feathers. Old Granny Fox flew into a greater rage than before.
Granny Fox couldn't believe her own eyes. No, Sir, she couldn't believe her own eyes, and she rubbed them two or three times to make sure that she was seeing right. That chicken certainly had disappeared, and left no trace of where it had gone.
It was very queer. Old Granny Fox sat down to think who would dare steal anything from her. Then she walked in a big circle with her nose to the ground, sniffing and sniffing. What was she doing that for? Why, to see if she could find the tracks of anyone who might have stolen her chicken.
“Aha!” exclaimed old Granny Fox, starting to run along the top of the hill, her nose to the ground. “Aha! I'll catch him this time!”
In a few minutes she began to run more slowly, and every two or three steps she would look ahead. Suddenly her eyes snapped, and she began to creep almost flat on her stomach, just as she had crept for Peter Rabbit. But it wasn't Peter Rabbit this time. It was—who do you think? Jimmy Skunk! Yes, Sir, it was Jimmy Skunk. He was slowly ambling along, for Jimmy Skunk never hurries. Every big stick or stone that he could move, he would pull over or look under, for Jimmy Skunk was hunting for beetles.
Old Granny Fox watched him. “He must have a tremendous appetite to be hunting for beetles after eating my chicken!” muttered she. Then she jumped out in front of Jimmy Skunk, her eyes snapping, her teeth showing, and the hair on her back standing on end so as to make her look very fierce. But all the time old Granny Fox took the greatest care not to get too near to Jimmy Skunk.
“Where's my chicken?” snarled old Granny Fox, and she looked very, very fierce.
Jimmy Skunk looked up as if very much surprised. “Hello, Granny Fox!” he exclaimed. “Have you lost a chicken?”
“You've stolen it! You're a thief, Jimmy Skunk!” snapped Granny Fox.
“Words can never make black white;Before you speak be sure you're right,”
said Jimmy Skunk. “I'm not a thief.”
“You are!” cried Granny working herself into a great rage.
“I'm not!”
“You are!”
All the time Jimmy Skunk was chuckling to himself, and the more he chuckled the angrier grew old Granny Fox. And all the time Jimmy Skunk kept moving toward old Granny Fox and Granny Fox kept backing away, for, like all the other little meadow and forest people, she has very great respect for Jimmy Skunk's little bag of scent.
Now, backing off that way, she couldn't see where she was going, and the first thing she knew she had backed into a bramble bush. It tore her skirts and scratched her legs. “Ooch!” cried old Granny Fox.
“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Jimmy Skunk. “That's what you get for calling me names.”
Old Granny Fox was in a terrible temper. Dear, dear, it certainly was a dreadful temper! Jimmy Skunk laughed at her, and that made it worse. When he saw this, Jimmy Skunk just rolled over and over on the ground and shouted, he was so tickled. Of course, it wasn't the least bit nice of Jimmy Skunk, but you know that Granny Fox had been calling Jimmy a thief. Then Jimmy doesn't like Granny Fox anyway, nor do any of the other little meadow and forest people, for most of them are very much afraid of her.
When old Granny Fox finally got out of the bramble bush, she didn't stop to say anything more to Jimmy Skunk, but hurried away, muttering and grumbling and grinding her teeth. Old Granny Fox wasn't pleasant to meet just then, and when Bobby Coon saw her coming, he just thought it best to get out of her way, so he climbed a tree.
It wasn't that Bobby Coon was afraid of old Granny Fox. Bless you, no! Bobby Coon isn't a bit afraid of her. It was because he had a full stomach and was feeling too good-natured and lazy to quarrel.
“Good morning, Granny Fox. I hope you are feeling well this morning,” said Bobby Coon, as old Granny Fox came trotting under the tree he was sitting in. Granny Fox looked up and glared at him with yellow eyes.
“It isn't a good morning and I'm not feeling fine!” she snapped.
“My goodness, how you have torn your skirts!” exclaimed Bobby Coon.
Old Granny Fox started to say something unpleasant. Then she changed her mind and instead she sat down and told Bobby Coon all her troubles. As she talked, Bobby Coon kept ducking his head behind a branch of the tree to hide a smile. Finally Granny Fox noticed it.
“What do you keep ducking your head for, Bobby Coon?” she asked suspiciously.
“I'm just looking to see if I can see any feathers from that chicken,” replied Bobby Coon gravely, though his eyes were twinkling with mischief.
“Well, do you?” demanded old Granny Fox.
And just then Bobby Coon did. They were not on the ground, however, but floating in the air. Bobby Coon leaned out to see where they came from, and Granny Fox turned to look, too. What do you think they saw? Why, sitting on a tall, dead tree was Mr. Goshawk, just then swallowing the last of Granny's chicken.
“Thief! thief! robber! robber!” shrieked old Granny Fox.
But Mr. Goshawk said nothing, just winked at Bobby Coon, puffed out his feathers, and settled himself for a comfortable nap.
Hardly was old Granny Fox out of sight on her way to hunt for the chicken she had left on the hill, when Unc' Billy Possum came strolling along the Lone Little Path. He was humming to himself, for he had just had a good breakfast. One of the Merry Little Breezes spied him and hurried to meet him and tell him about how Reddy Fox had been shot.
Unc' Billy listened, and the grin with which he had greeted the Merry Little Breeze grew into a broad smile.
“Are yo' all sure about that?” he asked.
The Merry Little Breeze was sure.
Unc' Billy Possum stopped for a few minutes and considered.
“Serves that no 'count Reddy Fox right,” chuckled Unc' Billy. “He done spoil mah hunting at Farmer Brown's, he raised such a fuss among the hens up there. 'Tisn't safe to go there any mo'! No, Suh, 'tisn't safe, and it won't be safe for a right smart while. Did yo' say that Granny Fox is home?”
The Merry Little Breeze hadn't said anything about Granny Fox, but now remembered that she had gone up the hill.
“Ah believe Ah will just tote my sympathy over to Reddy Fox,” said Unc' Billy Possum, as he started in the direction of Reddy Fox's house. But he made sure that old Granny Fox was not at home before he showed himself. Reddy Fox lay on his doorstep. He was sick and sore and stiff. Indeed, he was so stiff he couldn't walk at all. And he was weak—weak and hungry, dreadfully hungry. When he heard footsteps, he thought old Granny Fox was bringing him the chicken after which she had gone. He felt too ill even to turn his head.
“Did you get the chicken, Granny?” he asked weakly. No one answered. “I say, did you get the chicken, Granny?” Reddy's voice sounded a little sharp and cross as he asked this time.
Still there was no reply, and Reddy began to be a little bit suspicious. He turned over and raised his head to look. Instead of old Granny Fox, there was Unc' Billy Possum grinning at him.
“Smarty, Smarty is a thief!Smarty, Smarty came to grief!Tried to show off just for funAnd ran too near a loaded gun.
“Yo' all certainly has got just what yo' deserve, and Ah'm glad of it! Ah'm glad of it, Suh!” said Unc' Billy Possum severely.
An angry light came into the eyes of Reddy Fox and made them an ugly yellow for just a minute. But he felt too sick to quarrel. Unc' Billy Possum saw this. He saw how Reddy was really suffering, and down deep in his heart Unc' Billy was truly sorry for him. But he didn't let Reddy know it. No, indeed! He just pretended to be tickled to death to see Reddy Fox so helpless. He didn't dare stay long, for fear Granny Fox would return. So, after saying a few more things to make Reddy feel uncomfortable, Unc' Billy started off up the Lone Little Path toward the Green Forest.
“Too bad! Too bad!” he muttered to himself. “If ol' Granny Fox isn't smart enough to get Reddy enough to eat, Ah'll have to see what we-alls can do. Ah cert'nly will.”
Joe Otter and Billy Mink were sitting on the Big Rock in the Smiling Pool. Because they had nothing else to do, they were planning mischief. Jerry Muskrat was busy filling his new house with food for the winter. He was too busy to get into mischief.
Suddenly Billy Mink put a finger on his lips as a warning to Little Joe Otter to keep perfectly still. Billy's sharp eyes had seen something moving over in the bulrushes. Together he and Little Joe Otter watched, ready to dive into the Smiling Pool at the first sign of danger. In a few minutes the rushes parted and a sharp little old face peered out. Little Joe Otter and Billy Mink each sighed with relief, and their eyes began to dance. “Hi, Unc' Billy Possum!” shouted Billy Mink.
A grin crept over the sharp little old face peering out from the bulrushes.
“Hi, yo'self!” he shouted, for it really was Unc' Billy Possum.
“What are you doing over here?” called Little Joe Otter.
“Just a-looking round,” replied Unc' Billy Possum, his eyes twinkling.
“Have you heard about Reddy Fox?” shouted Billy Mink.
“Ah done jes' come from his home,” replied Unc' Billy Possum.
“How is he?” asked Little Joe Otter.
“Po'ly, he sho'ly is po'ly,” replied Unc' Billy Possum, shaking his head soberly. Then Unc' Billy told Billy Mink and Little Joe Otter how Reddy Fox was so stiff and sore and sick that he couldn't get anything to eat for himself, and how old Granny Fox had lost a chicken which she had caught for him.
“Serves him right!” exclaimed Billy Mink, who has never forgotten how Reddy Fox fooled him and caught the most fish once upon a time.
Unc' Billy nodded his head. “Yo' are right. Yo' cert'nly are right. Yes, Suh, Ah reckons yo' are right. Was yo' ever hungry, Billy Mink—real hungry?” asked Unc' Billy Possum.
Billy Mink thought of the time when he went without his dinner because Mr. Night Heron had gobbled it up, when Billy had left it in a temper. He nodded his head.
“Ah was just a-wondering,” continued Une' Billy Possum, “how it would seem to be right smart powerful hungry and not be able to hunt fo' anything to eat.”
For a few minutes no one said a word. Then Billy Mink stood up and stretched. “Good-by,” said Billy Mink.
“Where are you going so suddenly?” demanded Little Joe Otter.
“I'm going to catch a fish and take it up to Reddy Fox, if you must know!” snapped Billy Mink.
“Good!” cried Little Joe Otter. “You needn't think that you can have all the fun to yourself either, Billy Mink. I'm going with you.”
There was a splash in the Smiling Pool, and Unc' Billy Possum was left looking out on nothing but the Smiling Pool and the Big Rock. He smiled to himself as he turned away. “Ah reckon Ah'll sho' have to do my share, too,” said he.
And so it happened that when old Granny Fox finally reached home with nothing but a little wood mouse for Reddy, she found him taking a nap, his stomach as full as it could be. And just a little way off were two fish tails and the feathers of a little duck.
Farmer Brown's boy had made up his mind. When he shut his teeth with a click and drew his lips together into a thin, straight line, those who knew him were sure that Farmer Brown's boy had made up his mind. That is just what he had done now. He was cleaning his gun, and as he worked he was thinking of his pet chicken and of all the other chickens that Reddy Fox had taken.
“I'm going to get that fox if it takes all summer!” exclaimed Farmer Brown's boy. “I ought to have gotten him the other day when I had a shot at him. Next time well, we'll see, Mr. Fox, what will happen next time.”
Now someone heard Farmer Brown's boy, heard everything he said, though Farmer Brown's boy didn't know it. It was Unc' Billy Possum, who was hiding in the very pile of wood on which Farmer Brown's boy was sitting. Unc' Billy pricked up his ears.
He didn't like the tone of voice in which Farmer Brown's boy spoke. He thought of Reddy Fox still so stiff and sore and lame that he could hardly walk, all from the shot which Farmer Brown's boy thought had missed.
“There isn't gwine to be any next time. No, Suh, there isn't gwine to be any next time. Ah sho'ly doan love Reddy Fox, but Ah can't nohow let him be shot again. Ah cert'nly can't!” muttered Unc' Billy Possum to himself.
Of course, Farmer Brown's boy didn't hear him. He didn't hear him and he didn't see him when Unc' Billy Possum crept out of the back side of the woodpile and scurried under the henhouse. He was too intent on his plan to catch Reddy Fox.
“I'm just going to hunt over the Green Meadows and through the Green Forest until I get that fox!” said Farmer Brown's boy, and as he said it he looked very fierce, as if he really meant it. “I'm not going to have my chickens stolen any more! No, Sir-e-e! That fox has got a home somewhere on the Green Meadows or in the Green Forest, and I'm going to find it. Then watch out, Mr. Fox!”
Farmer Brown's boy whistled for Bowser the Hound and started for the Green Forest.
Unc' Billy Possum poked his sharp little old face out from under the henhouse and watched them go. Usually Unc' Billy is grinning, but now there wasn't any grin, not the least sign of one. Instead Unc' Billy Possum looked worried.
“There goes that boy with a gun, and nobody knows what'll happen when it goes off. If he can't find Reddy Fox, just as likely as not he'll point it at somebody else just fo' fun. Ah hope he doan meet up with mah ol' woman or any of mah li'l' pickaninnies. Ah'm plumb afraid of a boy with a gun, Ah am. 'Pears like he doan have any sense. Ah reckon Ah better be moving along right smart and tell mah family to stay right close in the ol' hollow tree,” muttered Unc' Billy Possum, slipping out from his hiding place. Then Unc' Billy began to run as fast as he could toward the Green Forest.
“Trouble, trouble, trouble, I feel it in the air; Trouble, trouble, trouble, it's round me everywhere.”
Old Granny Fox muttered this over and over, as she kept walking around uneasily and sniffing the air.
“I don't see any trouble and I don't feel any trouble in the air. It's all in the sore places where I was shot,” said Reddy Fox, who was stretched out on the doorstep of their home.
“That's because you haven't got any sense. When you do get some and learn to look where you are going, you won't get shot from behind old tree trunks and you will be able to feel trouble when it is near, without waiting for it to show itself. Now I feel trouble. You go down into the house and stay there!” Granny Fox stopped to test the air with her nose, just as she had been testing it for the last ten minutes.
“I don't want to go in,” whined Reddy Fox. “It's nice and warm out here, and I feel a lot better than when I am curled up way down there in the dark.”
Old Granny Fox turned, and her eyes blazed as she looked at Reddy Fox. She didn't say a word. She didn't have to. Reddy just crawled into his house, muttering to himself. Granny stuck her head in at the door.
“Don't you come out until I come back,” she ordered. Then she added: “Farmer Brown's boy is coming with his gun.”
Reddy Fox shivered when he heard that. He didn't believe Granny Fox. He thought she was saying that just to scare him and make him stay inside. But he shivered just the same. You see, he knew now what it meant to be shot, for he was still too stiff and sore to run, all because he had gone too near Farmer Brown's boy and his gun.
But old Granny Fox had not been fooling when she told Reddy Fox that Farmer Brown's boy was coming with a gun. It was true. He was coming down the Lone Little Path, and ahead of him was trotting Bowser the Hound. How did old Granny Fox know it? She just felt it! She didn't hear them, she didn't see them, and she didn't smell them; she just felt that they were coming. So as soon as she saw that Reddy Fox had obeyed her, she was off like a little red flash.
“It won't do to let them find our home,” said Granny to herself, as she disappeared in the Green Forest.
First she hurried to a little point on the hill where she could look down the Lone Little Path. Just as she expected, she saw Farmer Brown's boy, and ahead of him, sniffing at every bush and all along the Lone Little Path, was Bowser the Hound. Old Granny Fox waited to see no more. She ran as fast as she could in a big circle which brought her out on the Lone Little Path below Farmer Brown's boy and Bowser the Hound, but where they couldn't see her, because of a turn in the Lone Little Path. She trotted down the Lone Little Path a very little way and then turned into the woods and hurried back up the hill, where she sat down and waited. In a few minutes she heard Bowser's great voice. He had smelled her track in the Lone Little Path and was following it. Old Granny Fox grinned. You see, she was planning to lead them far, far away from the home where Reddy Fox was hiding, for it would not do to have them find it.
And Farmer Brown's boy also grinned, as he heard the voice of Bowser the Hound.
“I'll hunt that fox until I get him,” he said. You see, he didn't know anything about old Granny Fox; he thought Bowser was following Reddy Fox.
“What's the matter with you, Unc' Billy? You look as if you had lost your last friend.” It was Jimmy Skunk who spoke.
Unc' Billy Possum stopped short. He had been hurrying so fast that he hadn't seen Jimmy Skunk at all.
“Matter enuff, Suh! Matter enuff!” said Unc' Billy Possum, when he could get his breath. “Do you hear that noise?”
“Sure, I hear that noise. That's only Bowser the Hound chasing old Granny Fox. When she gets tired she'll lose him,” replied Jimmy Skunk. “What are you worrying about Bowser the Hound for?”
“Bowser the Hound will have to be smarter than he is now befo' he can worry me, Ah reckon,” said Unc' Billy Possum scornfully. “It isn't Bowser the Hound; it's Farmer Brown's boy and his gun!” Then Unc' Billy told Jimmy Skunk how he had been hiding in the woodpile at Farmer Brown's and had heard Farmer Brown's boy say that he was going to hunt over the Green Meadows and through the Green Forest until he got Reddy Fox.
“What of it?” asked Jimmy Skunk. “If he gets Reddy Fox, so much the better. Reddy always did make trouble for other people. I don't see what you're worrying about Reddy Fox for. He's big enough to take care of himself.”
“Yo' cert'nly are plumb slow in your wits this morning, Jimmy Skunk, yo' cert'nly are plumb slow! Supposing yo' should meet up with Farmer Brown's boy with that gun in his hands and supposing he had grown tired of watching fo' Reddy Fox. That gun might go off, Jimmy Skunk; it might go off when it was pointing right straight at yo'!” said Unc' Billy Possum.
Jimmy Skunk looked serious. “That's so, Unc' Billy, that's so!” he said. “Boys with guns do get dreadfully careless, dreadfully careless. They don't seem to think anything about the feelings of those likely to get hurt when the gun goes off. What was you thinking of doing, Unc' Billy?”
“Just passing the word along so everybody in the Green Meadows and in the Green Forest will keep out of the way of Farmer Brown's boy,” replied Unc' Billy Possum.
“Good idea, Unc' Billy! I'll help you,” said Jimmy Skunk.
So Unc' Billy Possum went one way, and Jimmy Skunk went another way. And everyone they told hurried to tell someone else. Happy Jack Squirrel told Chatterer the Red Squirrel; Chatterer told Striped Chipmunk, and Striped Chipmunk told Danny Meadow Mouse. Danny Meadow Mouse told Johnny Chuck; Johnny Chuck told Peter Rabbit; Peter Rabbit told Jumper the Hare; Jumper the Hare told Prickly Porky; Prickly Porky told Bobby Coon; Bobby Coon told Billy Mink; Billy Mink told Little Joe Otter; Little Joe Otter told Jerry Muskrat, and Jerry Muskrat told Grandfather Frog. And everybody hastened to hide from Farmer Brown's boy and his terrible gun.
By and by Farmer Brown's boy noticed how still it was in the Green Forest. Nowhere did he see or hear a bird. Nowhere could he catch a glimpse of anybody who wore fur.
“That fox must have scared away all the other animals and driven away all the birds. I'll get him! See if I don't!” muttered Farmer Brown's boy, and never once guessed that they were hiding from him.
Old Granny Fox was running through the overgrown old pasture, way up back of Farmer Brown's. She was cross and tired and hot, for it was a very warm day. Behind her came Bowser the Hound, his nose in Granny's tracks, and making a great noise with his big voice. Granny Fox was cross because she was tired. She hadn't done much running lately. She didn't mind running when the weather was cold, but now—“Oh dear, it is hot!” sighed old Granny Fox, as she stopped a minute to rest.
Now old Granny Fox is very, very smart and very, very wise. She knows all the tricks with which foxes fool those who try to catch them. She knew that she could fool Bowser the Hound and puzzle him so that he wouldn't be able to follow her track at all. But she wasn't ready to do that yet. No, indeed! Old Granny Fox was taking great care to see that her tracks were easy to follow. She wanted Bowser the Hound to follow them, although it made her tired and hot and cross. Why did she? Well, you see, she was trying to lead him, and with him Farmer Brown's boy, far, far away from the home where Reddy Fox was nursing the wounds that he had received when Farmer Brown's boy had shot at him a few days before.
“Bow, wow, wow!” roared Bowser the Hound, following every twist and turn which Granny Fox made, just as she wanted him to. Back and forth across the old pasture and way up among the rocks on the edge of the mountain Granny Fox led Bowser the Hound. It was a long, long, long way from the Green Meadows and the Green Forest. Granny Fox had made it a long way purposely. She was willing to be tired herself if she could also tire Bowser the Hound and Farmer Brown's boy. She wanted to tire them so that when she finally puzzled and fooled them and left them there, they would be too tired to go back to the Green Meadows.
By and by Granny Fox came to a hole in the ground, an old house that had once belonged to her grandfather. Now this old house had a back door hidden close beside the hollow trunk of a fallen tree. Old Granny Fox just ran through the house, out the back door, through the hollow tree, and then jumped into a little brook where there was hardly more than enough water to wet her feet. Walking in the water, she left no scent in her tracks.
Bowser the Hound came roaring up to the front door of the old house. Granny's tracks led right inside, and Bowser grew so excited that he made a tremendous noise. At last he had found where Granny Fox lived; at least he thought he had. He was sure that she was inside, for there were her fresh tracks going inside and none coming out. Bowser the Hound never once thought of looking for a back door. If he had, he wouldn't have been any the wiser, because, you know, old Granny Fox had slipped away through the hollow tree trunk.
Granny Fox grinned as she listened to the terrible fuss Bowser was making. Then, when she had rested a little, she stole up on the hill where she could look down and see the entrance to the old deserted house. She watched Bowser digging and barking. After a while a worried look crept into the face of old Granny Fox.
“Where's Farmer Brown's boy? I thought surely he would follow Bowser the Hound,” she muttered.
When old Granny Fox had sent Reddy Fox into the house and told him to stay there until she returned home, he had not wanted to mind, but he knew that Granny Fox meant just what she said, and so he had crawled slowly down the long hall to the bedroom, way underground.
Pretty soon Reddy Fox heard a voice. It was very faint, for you know Reddy was in his bedroom way underground, but he knew it. He pricked up his ears and listened. It was the voice of Bowser the Hound, and Reddy knew by the sound that Bowser was chasing Granny Fox.
Reddy grinned. He wasn't at all worried about Granny Fox, not the least little bit. He knew how smart she was and that whenever she wanted to, she could get rid of Bowser the Hound. Then a sudden thought popped into Reddy's head, and he grew sober.
“Granny did feel trouble coming, just as she said,” he thought.
Then Reddy Fox curled himself up and tried to sleep. He intended to mind and not put his little black nose outside until old Granny Fox returned. But somehow Reddy couldn't get to sleep. His bedroom was small, and he was so stiff and sore that he could not get comfortable. He twisted and turned and fidgeted. The more he fidgeted, the more uncomfortable he grew. He thought of the warm sunshine outside and how comfortable he would be, stretched out full length on the doorstep. It would take the soreness out of his legs. Something must have happened to Granny to keep her so long. If she had known that she was going to be gone such a long time, she wouldn't have told him to stay until she came back, thought Reddy.
By and by Reddy Fox crept a little way up the long, dark hall. He could just see the sunlight on the doorstep. Pretty soon he went a little bit nearer. He wasn't going to disobey old Granny Fox. Oh, no! No, indeed! She had told him to stay in the house until she returned. She hadn't said that he couldn't look out! Reddy crawled a little nearer to the open door and the sunlight.
“Granny Fox is getting old and timid. Just as if my eyes aren't as sharp as hers! I'd like to see Farmer Brown's boy get near me when I am really on the watch,” said Reddy Fox to himself. And then he crept a little nearer to the open door.
How bright and warm and pleasant it did look outside! Reddy just knew that he would feel ever and ever so much better if he could stretch out on the doorstep. He could hear Jenny Wren fussing and scolding at someone or something, and he wondered what it could be. He crept just a wee bit nearer. He could hear Bowser's voice, but it was so faint that he had to prick up his sharp little ears and listen with all his might to hear it at all.
“Granny's led them way off on the mountain. Good old Granny!” thought Reddy Fox. Then he crawled right up to the very doorway. He could still hear Jenny Wren scolding and fussing.
“What does ail her?
“If it's hot or if it's cold,Jenny Wren will always scold.From morn till night the whole day longHer limber tongue is going strong.
“I'm going to find out what it means,” said Reddy, talking to himself.
Reddy Fox poked his head out and—looked straight into the freckled face of Farmer Brown's boy and the muzzle of that dreadful gun!
Old Granny Fox had thought that when she fooled Bowser the Hound up in the old pasture on the edge of the mountain she could take her time going home. She was tired and hot, and she had planned to pick out the shadiest paths going back. She had thought that Farmer Brown's boy would soon join Bowser the Hound, when Bowser made such a fuss about having found the old house into which Granny Fox had run.
But Farmer Brown's boy had not yet appeared, and Granny Fox was getting worried. Could it be that he had not followed Bowser the Hound, after all? Granny Fox went out on a high point and looked, but she could see nothing of Farmer Brown's boy and his gun. Just then Ol' Mistah Buzzard came sailing down out of the blue, blue sky and settled himself on a tall, dead tree. Now Granny Fox hadn't forgotten how Ol' Mistah Buzzard had warned Peter Rabbit just as she was about to pounce on him, but she suddenly thought that Ol' Mistah Buzzard might be of use to her.
So old Granny Fox smoothed out her skirts and walked over to the foot of the tree where Ol' Mistah Buzzard sat.
“How do you do today, neighbor Buzzard?” inquired Granny Fox, smiling up at Ol' Mistah Buzzard.
“Ah'm so as to be up and about, thank yo',” replied Ol' Mistah Buzzard, spreading his wings out so that air could blow under them.
“My!” exclaimed old Granny Fox, “what splendid great wings you have, Mistah Buzzard! It must be grand to be able to fly. I suppose you can see a great deal from way up there in the blue, blue sky, Mistah Buzzard.”
Ol' Mistah Buzzard felt flattered. “Yes,” said he, “Ah can see all that's going on on the Green Meadows and in the Green Forest.”
“Oh, Mistah Buzzard, you don't really mean that!” exclaimed old Granny Fox, just as if she wanted to believe it, but couldn't.
“Yes, Ah can!” replied Ol' Mistah Buzzard.
“Really, Mistah Buzzard? Really? Oh, I can't believe that your eyes are so sharp as all that! Now I know where Bowser the Hound is and where Farmer Brown's boy is, but I don't believe you can see them,” said Granny Fox.
Ol' Mistah Buzzard never said a word but spread his broad wings and in a few minutes he had sailed up, up, up until he looked like just a tiny speck to old Granny Fox. Now old Granny Fox had not told the truth when she said she knew where Farmer Brown's boy was. She thought she would trick Ol' Mistah Buzzard into telling her.
In a few minutes down came Ol' Mistah Buzzard. “Bowser the Hound is up in the old back pasture,” said he.
“Right!” cried old Granny Fox, clapping her hands. “And where is Farmer Brown's boy?”
“Farmer Brown's boy is...” Ol' Mistah Buzzard paused.
“Where? Where?” asked Granny Fox, so eagerly that Ol' Mistah Buzzard looked at her sharply.
“Yo' said you knew, so what's the use of telling yo'?” said Ol' Mistah Buzzard. Then he added: “But if Ah was yo', Ah cert'nly would get home right smart soon.”
“Why? Do, do tell me what you saw, Mistah Buzzard!” begged Granny Fox.
But Ol' Mistah Buzzard wouldn't say another word, so old Granny Fox started for home as fast as she could run.
“Oh dear, I do hope Reddy Fox minded me and stayed in the house,” she muttered.
Old Granny Fox felt her heart sink way down to her toes, for she felt sure Ol' Mistah Buzzard had seen Farmer Brown's boy and his gun over near the house where Reddy Fox was nursing his wounds, or he wouldn't have advised her to hurry home. She was already very tired and hot from the long run to lead Bowser the Hound away from the Green Meadows. She had thought to walk home along shady paths and cool off, but now she must run faster than ever, for she must know if Farmer Brown's boy had found her house.
“It's lucky I told Reddy Fox to go inside and not come out till I returned; it's very lucky I did that,” thought Granny Fox as she ran. Presently she heard voices singing. They seemed to be in the treetops over her head.
“Happily we dance and playAll the livelong sunny day!Happily we run and raceAnd win or lose with smiling face!”
Granny Fox knew the voices, and she looked up. Just as she expected, she saw the Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother West Wind playing among the leaves. Just then one of them looked down and saw her.
“There's old Granny Fox! Just see how hot and tired she looks. Let's go down and cool her off!” shouted the Merry Little Breeze.
In a flash they were all down out of the treetops and dancing around old Granny Fox, cooling her off. Of course, Granny Fox kept right on running. She was too worried not to. But the Merry Little Breezes kept right beside her, and it was not nearly as hard running now as it had been.
“Have you seen Farmer Brown's boy?” panted Granny Fox.
“Oh, yes! We saw him just a little while ago over near your house, Granny Fox. We pulled his hat off, just to hear him scold,” shouted the Merry Little Breezes, and then they tickled and laughed as if they had had a good time with Farmer Brown's boy.
But old Granny Fox didn't laugh—oh, my, no, indeed! Her heart went lower still, and she did her best to run faster. Pretty soon she came out on the top of the hill where she could look, and then it seemed as if her heart came right up in her mouth and stopped beating. Her eyes popped almost out of her head. There was Farmer Brown's boy standing right in front of the door of her home. And while she was watching, what should Reddy Fox do but stick his head out the door.
Old Granny Fox saw the gun of Farmer Brown's boy pointed right at Reddy and she clapped both hands over her eyes to shut out the dreadful sight. Then she waited for the bang of the gun. It didn't come. Then Granny peeped through her fingers. Farmer Brown's boy was still there, but Reddy Fox had disappeared inside the house.
Granny Fox sighed in relief. It had been a terrible scare, the worst she could remember.
Old Granny Fox gave him a shove. “You go along and do as I say!” she snapped. “If you had minded me, we wouldn't have to move. It's all your own fault. The wonder is that you weren't killed when you poked your head out right in front of Farmer Brown's boy. Now that he knows where we live, he will give us no peace. Move along lively now! This is the best home I have ever had, and now I've got to leave it. Oh dear! Oh dear!”
Reddy Fox hobbled along up the long hall and out the front door. He was walking on three legs, and at every step he made a face because, you know, it hurt so to walk.
The little stars, looking down from the sky, saw Reddy Fox limp out the door of the house he had lived in so long, and right behind him came old Granny Fox. Granny sighed and wiped away a tear, as she said good-by to her old home. Reddy Fox was thinking too much of his own troubles to notice how badly Granny Fox was feeling. Every few steps he had to sit down and rest because it hurt him so to walk.
“I don't see the use of moving tonight, anyway. It would be a lot easier and pleasanter when the sun is shining. This night air makes me so stiff that I know I never will get over it,” grumbled Reddy Fox.
Old Granny Fox listened to him for a while, and then she lost patience. Yes, Sir, Granny Fox lost patience. She boxed Reddy Fox first on one ear and then on the other. Reddy began to snivel.
“Stop that!” said Granny Fox sharply. “Do you want all the neighbors to know that we have got to move? They'll find it out soon enough. Now come along without any more fuss. If you don't, I'll just go off and leave you to shift for yourself. Then how will you get anything to eat?”
Reddy Fox wiped his eyes on his coat sleeve and hobbled along as best he could. Granny Fox would run a little way ahead to see that the way was safe and then come back for Reddy. Poor Reddy. He did his best not to complain, but it was such hard work. And somehow Reddy Fox didn't believe that it was at all necessary. He had been terribly frightened when he had disobeyed Granny Fox that afternoon and put his head out the door, only to look right into the freckled face of Farmer Brown's boy. He had ducked back out of sight again too quickly for Farmer Brown's boy to shoot, and now he couldn't see why old Granny Fox wanted to move that very night.
“She's getting old. She's getting old and timid and fussy,” muttered Reddy Fox, as he hobbled along behind her.
It seemed to Reddy as if they had walked miles and miles. He really thought that they had been walking nearly all night when old Granny Fox stopped in front of the worst-looking old fox house Reddy had ever seen.
“Here we are!” said she.
“What! Are we going to live in that thing?” cried Reddy. “It isn't fit for any respectable fox to put his nose into.”
“It is where I was born!” snapped old Granny Fox. “If you want to keep out of harm's way, don't go to putting on airs now.