Mouse and Mushrooms
10: A Handy Sign
Huntingplayed a great part in the life of Master Meadow Mouse. Somebody or other was always hunting him. And he was always hunting for something to eat. He spent a good deal of his time away from home, looking for seeds and grain. On the other hand, he spent a good deal of his time in his house; for Master Meadow Mouse liked to take naps—especially in the daytime.
After he started to live in Farmer Green's woodpile, but moved away from it before he had finished building his nest there, Master Meadow Mouse settled nearthe fence between the meadow and the pasture. The mowing machine hadn't cut the weeds and grass that grew close to the fence. He found shelter there from the sharp eyes of birds that would have caught him had they been able to.
This time Master Meadow Mouse didn't live underground. He made a sort of little hut for himself, which kept out the cold in chilly weather, and shed the rain when it didn't pour down too hard.
It was a good home. But it had one drawback. If anybody came along when its owner was asleep in it—Well, Master Meadow Mouse didn't like to think about that. The little nest at the end of the tunnel where he had once lived had been far safer.
"I know what I'll do!" he cried at last, as a happy thought came to him. "I'll hang a sign outside my door."
He set to work. And soon he had printed a sign. On one side of this was the notice, "Gone to Lunch. Back To-morrow." And on the other side were the words, "At Home. Don't Knock. Walk In."
"There!" said Master Meadow Mouse as he stood off a few paces and looked at his handiwork. "That ought to do the trick."
Then he hung the sign outside his door and went into his house to enjoy a nap. And the side of the sign that was turned outward said, "Gone to Lunch. Back To-morrow."
Master Meadow Mouse slept late into the afternoon. And towards sunset, while he was still asleep, Tommy Fox slipped through the pasture fence.
"Hullo!" he murmured softly as his eyes fell on Master Meadow Mouse'sdwelling. "Here's a bit of luck. I smell a Mouse. And he must be taking a nap inside his house."
Tommy Fox crept closer to the little hut. Then all at once he straightened up with a look of displeasure on his sharp face. He had just noticed the sign.
"He's away from home!" Tommy exclaimed. "That's a pity. He can't have been gone long. Maybe I can catch him near-by."
But he couldn't find Master Meadow Mouse anywhere. He looked all around—except inside the shelter where Master Meadow Mouse was fast asleep.
Tommy Fox came back and read the sign once more.
"Back To-morrow," he muttered. "Very well! I'll come back here to-morrow. For that's what the sign tells me to do."
And the next day he returned. He grinned from ear to ear as he read what the sign said: "At Home. Don't Knock. Walk In." Then he thrust his long, sharp nose right through Master Meadow Mouse's doorway.
There was nobody there. And Tommy Fox looked silly as anything.
"Fooled!" he growled. "Fooled by a Meadow Mouse! I hope nobody ever finds it out."
Gone to Lunch
11: A Castle in the Air
Itseemed as if Master Meadow Mouse was always moving. Perhaps the pleasantest move he ever made was when he went to the cornfield to live. When autumn came Farmer Green shocked the corn. All over the field bundles of cornstalks stood in rows, like soldiers. And what suited Master Meadow Mouse especially was the ripe ears in the shocks, which Farmer Green had not yet gathered.
For some weeks past Master Meadow Mouse had been living in a rude shelter, which he had built for himself near the fence between the pasture and themeadow. Though he had been quite comfortable there during the hot weather, there were days, now, when a chilly wind swept through Pleasant Valley and made him shiver slightly as he thought of the frosts which his neighbors told him were on the way.
He had made up his mind to seek some snugger home. But not until he saw what Farmer Green was doing with the cornstalks did Master Meadow Mouse decide on his new dwelling.
"What a fine idea of Farmer Green's!" he cried, when he first looked upon the shocked corn. "I never dreamed that he had been raising corn to make homes for our family." He changed his opinion of Farmer Green. Master Meadow Mouse had been much upset when Farmer Green cut the grass in the meadow at haying time. All the birds in the air could seehim whenever he crossed the bare field. Now, however, he forgot his displeasure in the joy that Farmer Green's latest move gave him.
That night Master Meadow Mouse crept into the cornfield. The round, yellow harvest moon shone down on the field, bathing the shocks of corn in a flood of light and making the pumpkins that lay on every side look almost as golden as they appeared under the midday sun.
Master Meadow Mouse was surprised to find that many of his cousins had had the same happy thought about moving that had come to him. He met dozens of the big Meadow Mouse family that night. And every one of them was intent on picking out a shock of corn to live in.
Luckily there were shocks enough for all—and more. And no disputes arose. Some wanted to settle near the fence.Some preferred to live in the middle of the field. Many decided to make their new homes near Broad Brook, so they could enjoy a swim now and then without having to travel far to get to the water.
Master Meadow Mouse was one of the best swimmers. He found a huge shock that stood near the bank of the brook. Crawling through it, he discovered at least two dozen ears of ripe corn there.
"I won't look any further," he exclaimed. "Here's food enough to last for months, all stored for me and ready to be eaten whenever I'm hungry."
Then he set to work. And high in the top of the shock he made himself a nest of dry husks, which he stripped off some of the ears.
It was an easy matter to build that home. Everything that he needed was right at hand. And it was no time at allbefore Master Meadow Mouse had his house in order. Then he was ready for a nap. But first he made a hearty meal of corn because—as he said—he always slept better on a full stomach.
As he settled himself at last in his new quarters, just before he dozed off Master Meadow Mouse murmured happily to himself.
"I never thought," he said, "that I'd sleep in a castle in the air."
Mouse and Pumpkins
12: A Midnight Frolic
Master Meadow Mousehad always been pudgy. Before he went to the cornfield to live he had been fat enough. And after he had spent two weeks in and out of his new nest in the cornshock he was a sight to see. His sides bulged. And he had a look as if his skin weren't big enough for him.
Life had become very easy for Master Meadow Mouse. He didn't even have to leave home to get all the corn he could eat. He simply crept out of his nest, and right there in his cornshock he had two dozen ears of ripe corn. He didn't need to setfoot to the ground, unless he wanted a drink.
Of course Master Meadow Mouse wasn't content to stay at home morning, noon and night. He scampered away whenever he pleased. Sometimes he went for a swim in Broad Brook. Sometimes he visited his cousins, who dwelt in other shocks in the cornfield. And every night he joined the big Meadow Mouse family in a frolic. They chased one another around the pumpkins that strewed the ground, dodged behind the shocked corn, or ran along the rail fence.
During the daytime Master Meadow Mouse and his companions lay low. When they went abroad they kept a close watch for Mr. Crow. Late as it was, the old gentleman still lingered in Pleasant Valley. Although his cronies had started on their yearly journey to the South, helet it be known that he was expecting to spend the winter in the North.
"I've noticed signs," he had said, "that tell me we're going to have a mild winter."
Whenever Mr. Crow visited the cornfield, the Meadow Mouse family hastened to hide. They didn't try to go to their own homes, but plunged inside the nearest shocks of corn.
Mr. Crow was far from stupid. He knew what was going on right under his nose—or his bill. Flapping towards the cornfield from the woods he could see a great scurrying of small, reddish-brown persons. But when he settled down in the field there was never a Meadow Mouse anywhere in sight.
"They're stealing corn!" the old gentleman spluttered. "I'd stop them if I could. But what can I do when theyhide the moment they see me coming?"
The old fellow pondered over the question.
"Somebody," he said, "will have to tear these shocks apart in order to catch the Meadow Mouse people. And I don't know anyone that could do it better than Fatty Coon."
Now, Mr. Crow knew where Fatty Coon lived, in a hollow tree in Cedar Swamp. And he actually started to fly over to the Swamp and ask Fatty Coon to rid the cornfield of the Meadow Mouse family.
But on the way to Cedar Swamp Mr. Crow happened to think of something. He happened to think that Fatty Coon had an enormous appetite and was very fond of corn.
Mr. Crow suddenly veered off his straight course and alighted in a tree.
"That will never do," he croaked."Fatty would eat more than all the Meadow Mice in Pleasant Valley."
Little did Mr. Crow know that Fatty Coon was already planning to visit the cornfield as soon as it grew dark.
Nor did Master Meadow Mouse and his cousins guess that they were to have an unwelcome guest that night.
As usual, after dark they poured out of their castles in the air to enjoy their nightly frolic. And they were having what they called "high jinks" when the word went around to hide.
For somebody squeaked in a frightened voice: "Fatty Coon is crawling through the pasture fence!"
Mouse and Corn
13: A Moonlight Raid
TheMeadow Mouse party, in the cornfield, vanished as if by magic. Not one of the merrymakers lingered an instant after hearing that Fatty Coon was entering the field. And since Master Meadow Mouse happened to be near the shock where he lived, he ran up it in a twinkling and crept inside it, to curl up in his nest and try to catch forty winks.
He felt safe enough. Hadn't old Mr. Crow come to the cornfield every day?Hehad never even poked into a shock to disturb Master Meadow Mouse or one of his cousins. Mr. Crow had eaten corn, tobe sure. But he hadn't bothered anybody. And now Master Meadow Mouse thought that as soon as Fatty Coon had stuffed himself with corn he would stroll back to Cedar Swamp.
Master Meadow Mouse had fallen into a doze when a sharp rustle waked him.
"Ho, ho!" he chuckled. "There's Fatty Coon now! He's pulling an ear of corn off my shock. Well, I don't believe I'll miss it. There's corn enough in this field for everybody."
Master Meadow Mouse tried to go to sleep again.
"I wish Fatty Coon wouldn't make so much noise," said Master Meadow Mouse, grumbling a little because he was very drowsy and didn't like to be disturbed.
"There!" he exclaimed after a few moments. "He's gone, thank goodness!"
But Fatty Coon had only carried his earof corn to Broad Brook, to wash it before he gobbled the kernels. He was very particular to wash almost everything he ate. But that was about the only way in which he was fussy. There was nothing, almost, that he wouldn't bolt greedily.
After he had devoured the first ear of corn, Fatty Coon went back and pulled another off the same shock.
Again he roused Master Meadow Mouse from his slumbers.
"He's at it again!" Master Meadow Mouse complained. "I wish he'd go to some other shock."
The third time that Fatty Coon wrenched an ear of corn from the shock where Master Meadow Mouse lived he paused and cocked an ear towards the top of the shock.
"Was that a squeak?" he asked himself. And then he sniffed. "Ha!" hecried. "Do I smell a Meadow Mouse?"
Fatty Coon was not mistaken. When he rustled the dried cornstalks the third time, Master Meadow Mouse had cried right out in his sleep. And he waked up just soon enough to hear Fatty Coon's remarks.
"Maybe you do smell a Meadow Mouse," he replied under his breath, so Fatty Coon couldn't hear him. "But it won't do you any good; for I'm not coming out of my castle until you go away."
It soon appeared that Fatty Coon did not intend to leave. For Fatty began to pull at the cornstalks with his claws. Although Farmer Green had bound the stalks together tightly, one by one Fatty tore them loose and let them fall upon the ground.
And inside the shock Master Meadow Mouse suddenly started up in alarm.
14: The Masked Bandit
Itwas no wonder that Master Meadow Mouse was startled. He cowered inside his nest in the top of the shock of corn. The whole shock shook. There was a terrible rustle of dry leaves as Fatty Coon tore away stalk after stalk.
"Old Mr. Crow never did this!" Master Meadow Mouse stammered. "He never disturbed my rest. But this awful Fatty Coon means to catch me. And I don't know what to do."
Meanwhile Fatty Coon was muttering horribly to himself as he worked.
"This fellow must be fat," he grunted,as he wrenched at a stubborn stalk with claws and teeth. "With all this corn to feast on he must be in fine trim. Mm! He ought to be just right to top off a good meal of corn."
"My goodness!" Master Meadow Mouse gasped. "How annoying! He intends to eat me!"
For a few moments Master Meadow Mouse wondered whether he ought to fight or run. "I wish," he thought, "that I'd brought my old sign with me when I moved to this new home. If I had hung it outside my door Fatty Coon wouldn't have bothered me. When he read that notice, 'Gone to lunch. Back To-morrow,' he would have shuffled off about his business." But idle thoughts and wishes were of no use at a time like that. Master Meadow Mouse soon realized that he must act—and act quickly.
"Maybe I'll bite his nose," he said to himself. "But I want to peep at him first."
So Master Meadow Mouse left his nest and crept a short distance until he could peer out from a chink between two cornstalks. In the moonlight he had a fine view of Fatty Coon. And as he stared at the intruder Meadow Mouse shuddered.
"No!" he exclaimed. "No! I never could fight him. I wouldn't dare bite his nose. He's far, far too big for me to tackle."
There was no denying that Fatty Coon looked both huge and dangerous. Across his face was a black mask which only added to his horrid appearance. And through the mask his eyes shone green and greedy right into the frightened ones of Master Meadow Mouse.
One good look was enough for MasterMeadow Mouse. He drew back hurriedly. Through his mind there flashed a saying of his mother's that he had not thought of for a long time: "He that fights and runs away will live to fight another day."
"I'll run first," Master Meadow Mouse decided. "Then perhaps I shan't have to fight at all."
Then he stole out of the shock of corn, on the opposite side. And when Fatty Coon pawed his way through to the nest he found it empty.
He gave a wail of anger and dismay.
"He's gone! The Meadow Mouse has gone!" Fatty bawled. "And I'll warrant he was a fat one, too. It's always the fattest ones that get away. And nobody can deny that this one was living high."
Mouse running
15: The Flood
"Thismeans another move for me," said Master Meadow Mouse. Fatty Coon had broken into the house in the shock of corn where Master Meadow Mouse had been living. And Master Meadow Mouse had fled.
Somehow he felt that a change of scene would be good for him. Although he had dwelt but a short time in the cornfield, he had no longer any desire to stay there. For Fatty Coon had given him a great fright. There was no denying that.
"It seems as if I were always moving," Master Meadow Mouse mused. "It'slucky for me the world is wide. Thank goodness there's plenty of places left where I can go. I've tried the meadow, Farmer Green's woodpile, the tangle beside the pasture fence and the cornfield. And now—now let me see! I believe I'll settle along Black Creek, under the bank."
He was talking with Long Bill Wren, who had a nest in a marshy spot near the creek.
"Oh, don't make yourself a home under the bank!" Long Bill cried. "The fall rains will come soon. The creek is sure to rise. And then where will you be?"
"I'll be in the water, I suppose," Master Meadow Mouse answered.
"Correct!" said Long Bill Wren. "And you want to avoid that. Maybe you've noticed that my wife and I built our nest off the ground. We fasten it tothe reeds so we'll be dry, no matter if there's a freshet in midsummer."
"Ah!" Master Meadow Mouse exclaimed with a smile. "I see you don't like water as much as I do. The fall rains won't trouble me. If the creek rises as high as my house it will be all the more fun."
Long Bill Wren gave him an odd look.
"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 door 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."
Mouse on a raft
16: On the Raft
A boardwas 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 notbe 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?"
Master Meadow Mouse drifted toward Mr. HeronMaster 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 alwayssomedanger 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!"
Mr. Heron
17: A Lucky Escape
Nearerand 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 passenger, 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 straightdown 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 pass 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 fewmoments at the edge of the channel, and then drifted lazily toward shore, where it lodged at last among the reeds.
The disappointed fisherman returned to his fishing. But it seemed as if his luck had turned. Not another fish came his way. And being too wise to expect that another Meadow Mouse would come traveling down the creek on a raft, Mr. Great Blue Heron at last forsook his sport and sailed away through the air towards the lake on the other side of Blue Mountain.
He hadn't been gone a great while when Master Meadow Mouse might have been seen picking his way along the bank. He was journeying upstream, on his way home.
"It was lucky for me—" he explained to his cousin, whom he met later—"it was lucky for me that I could swim under water. Otherwise I shouldn't have beenable to hide beneath the board and stay there until it swung into the rushes."
"You had a narrow escape," his cousin told him. "Don't say that I didn't warn you!"
That cousin was one of those persons that always exclaim, "I told you so!"
Mr Heron flying
18: Under the Snow
Winterhad come. The snow lay deep over Pleasant Valley. But Master Meadow Mouse didn't object to that. On the contrary, he had welcomed the snow. Even Johnnie Green, peeping out of his chamber window at the first snowfall of the season, hadn't been any happier over it than Master Meadow Mouse was. To Johnnie Green the snow meant fun. To Master Meadow Mouse it meant fun and something more.
At last he could scamper about the meadow without being seen by everybody. For he set to work at once to make tunnelsbeneath the snow. They ran in every direction from his house. And he was forever pushing them further and further.
Through those tunnels Master Meadow Mouse could look for seeds and grain in the stubble. And while he was rambling along his network of halls he didn't have to worry about anybody's making trouble for him, unless it was Peter Mink, perhaps, or Grumpy Weasel.
Of course Master Meadow Mouse didn't stay under the snow all the time. Now and then he liked to climb up into the open air. And he made many shafts that led to the world above.
Although most of the birds had gone South to spend the winter, there were still some that Master Meadow Mouse had to shun. Old Mr. Crow was spending the winter on the farm. And there were Solomon Owl and his cousin SimonScreecher, who hunted over the meadow nightly. And at dusk sometimes a fierce hawk known as "Rough-leg" would beat his way back and forth across the snow covered stretches in the hope of catching one of the Meadow Mouse family unawares.
In spite of such unpleasant neighbors, the big Meadow Mouse family managed to have many a gay frolic under the stars on crisp winter nights. Sometimes Johnnie Green, wandering over the fields on snow-shoes by day, noticed a lacy tracery on the snow. It was the tracks of the tiny toes of Master Meadow Mouse and his dozens of cousins. At first Johnnie almost thought that he had stumbled upon the scene of a revel of fairy mice. He did not know then that the Meadow Mouse family had a village of their own right under his feet.
But Solomon Owl and Simon Screecher and old Rough-leg, the hawk, knew all about the habits of the villagers. In fact they sometimes complained about the way the Meadow Mouse family had built their tunnels. They agreed that there were too many holes leading down to the village streets. It gave the Meadow Mouse people too many openings into which to dive in case of a sudden surprise when they were having a moonlight party.
"If they ever invited me to one of their affairs I wouldn't care what they did," Solomon Owl remarked one evening to his whistling cousin, Simon Screecher. "If they'd welcome me just once to one of their dances I'd be satisfied."
"It's plain that they don't like you," his cousin remarked.
"Nor you, either!" Solomon Owl boomed. And then all at once he burstforth with a peal of ghostly laughter."Wha, wha, whoo-ah!"
Now, Master Meadow Mouse had just crept out of one of his doorways and was looking up at the stars when that shivery sound came rolling out of the woods. When he heard it he turned quickly and hurried back where he came from.
"There won't be any fun to-night," he grumbled.
Owl and Mouse
19: Owl Friends
"There'sno sense in wasting our time here," said Solomon Owl to his small cousin, Simon Screecher. "It's a fine night. The Mice will all be out sooner or later. Let's go over and sit in that old oak on the edge of the meadow!"
Simon Screecher was more than willing. And they had no sooner settled themselves among the bare branches of the oak when Simon started to amuse himself by giving his well-known quavering whistle.
Solomon Owl stopped him quickly.
"Don't do that!" he said sharply. "Doyou want to scare the Mice?" Simon Screecher cut his whistle off right in the middle of it.
"I forgot," he murmured. "But I don't believe my whistling would do any harm. I don't think there are many Mice left on Farmer Green's place. It's my opinion that they've moved away—most of them. Or maybe old Rough-leg, the Hawk, has caught more than his share. Anyhow, it's so long since I ate a Meadow Mouse that I've almost forgotten what they're like."
Solomon Owl made no reply. He was a person of few words. If anybody asked his opinion he was ready to give it. But he seldom gave any unsought advice.
"I've about made up my mind," said Simon Screecher, "that I'd move to some other neighborhood. If I knew wherethere was good mousing I'd move to-morrow."
While he was speaking, Solomon Owl started ever so slightly. And he cocked his head on one side, as if he were listening for something.
At that moment his cousin began to whistle again.
"Be quiet!" Solomon Owl thundered. "If I'm not mistaken I heard a squeak. But no Meadow Mouse will ever venture out of doors if you're going to whistle."
"I forgot," said Simon Screecher once more. "I'm so used to whistling that I don't know when I'm doing it."
Solomon Owl and Simon Screecher wait for Master Meadow MouseSolomon Owl and Simon Screecher wait for Master Meadow Mouse
"That's the reason why you can't catch more Mice," Solomon Owl snapped; for he was angry. "There are dozens of Meadow Mice under the snow. But of course you can't surprise them if you tell them you're coming. You might as wellsend them a telegram, saying that you'll be on hand to meet them at eightP. M."
Simon Screecher was silenced for the time being.
And it wasn't long before Solomon Owl gave another start.
"There's that squeak again!" he whispered. "I believe it is getting nearer, too."
Now, Master Meadow Mouse had a tunnel that led right beneath the tree where the two cousins were sitting. And he had strolled that way after scurrying under the snow when he heard Solomon Owl laughing in the woods earlier in the evening.
It was he that Solomon heard. It was he that stuck his head out of a hole in the snow and peeped up at the star-sprinkled sky.
Solomon Owl saw him. And he divedout of the old oak straight at Master Meadow Mouse.
Master Meadow Mouse pulled his head in just in time.
"I didn't suppose that chap would be here as soon as this," he gasped. "He must have hurried over here from the woods. He must be very hungry."
As Solomon Owl returned to the old oak his cousin Simon Screecher laughed somewhat unpleasantly.
"Missed him—didn't you?" he inquired.
"Yes!"
"Why didn't you grab him out of the snow?" Simon asked. "What are your claws for? What's your beak for?"
"I couldn't dig him out," Solomon Owl replied. "The snow is three feet deep. And it has seven different crusts, one under another."
"This is a hard winter," said Simon Screecher. "I wish I'd gone South last fall. I wonder how the mousing is down there."
Owl flying
20: Eating a Tree
As Simon Screecherremarked to his cousin, Solomon Owl, it was a hard winter. The snow was deep. The days were cold. And the nights were colder. And, worst of all, food became scarce. It seemed as if there wasn't anything to eat anywhere except at the farm buildings, which Farmer Green had stuffed full of hay and grain during the summer and autumn. Many of the forest folk stole down from Blue Mountain after nightfall and visited the farmyard in the hope of getting a bite of something or other.
Even Master Meadow Mouse began tofind it harder and harder to get enough seeds under the snow to satisfy his hunger. He had stored away a stock of food. But it hadn't been big enough. And that was a great mistake. Master Meadow Mouse promised himself that he would not repeat it another time. Unfortunately, all the promises in the world wouldn't give him a square meal when he needed one.
At last he went to one of his cousins who had already spent one winter in the meadow.
"This is my first winter," Master Meadow Mouse explained. "I'm running short of food. And I wish you'd tell me what to do in such a case."
"That's easy," his cousin answered. "Get more!" And then he hurried away, for he had important business to attend to.
Poor Master Meadow Mouse ran afterhim. It was hard to follow his cousin through the winding galleries beneath the snow. Several times Master Meadow Mouse took the wrong turn and had to retrace his steps. But at last he found his busy cousin again.
"You advised me to get more food," said Master Meadow Mouse. "But you didn't tell me where to get it."
"In the orchard!" his cousin cried. And then he hurried away again.
"I wish he'd wait a minute," Master Meadow Mouse grumbled as he tore after his cousin once more. "I don't feel like running. I haven't had a hearty meal for days."
The cousin seemed surprised when Master Meadow Mouse overtook him.
"What!" that busy gentleman exclaimed. "Have you been to the orchard and back so soon?"
"No!" said Master Meadow Mouse. "I've been chasing you. I want you to tell me what I'll find to eat when I go to the orchard."
"That's easy," his cousin replied. "Trees!" Having said those three words he dashed off again even faster than before.
"Trees!" Master Meadow Mouse echoed. "I can't eat trees. I've never eaten a tree in all my life. There must be something that my cousin forgot to explain. So I suppose I'll have to run after him again and ask him what he meant."
The fourth time that Master Meadow Mouse found his cousin he took no chances. He caught his cousin by his tail and held on firmly.
"You're not going to get away from me till I've found out what I want toknow," he declared. "How can I eat a tree?" Master Meadow Mouse demanded.
"You can't!" his cousin replied, struggling desperately to free himself, for he was too busy to stop long.
"Then explain what you mean!" Master Meadow Mouse cried.
"Eat the bark!" his cousin answered.
Then—and not till then—did Master Meadow Mouse let him go.
Master Meadow Mouse chased his cousin no more, but hurried away to Farmer Green's orchard, where he gnawed a ring all the way around one of the young fruit trees, at the top of the snow. It was the first big meal he had enjoyed for weeks. And he went home feeling that the winter was not so hard as he had thought, after all.
But Farmer Green didn't agree with him. When he happened to go into theorchard one day, later, and saw tree after tree ruined, he was very, very much displeased.
"I ought to have put wire netting around those young trees," he told the hired man. "This is what comes of a hard winter."