Part 3

No one seemed to notice Bumper hopping along with Spotty the Chameleon on his back. Ordinarily such a thing would have caused a laugh, and perhaps jeers. But now every one was so terrified that he paid no attention to any one else.

In leaping over a clump of bushes, Bumper suddenly heard a voice call to him. “Oh, Bumper, what am I going to do? I can’t run fast enough to beat the fire. Oh! Oh! I shall be roasted alive!”

Bumper stopped and looked down at Lazy the Snail, who was making all the haste he could to get away; but it was a ludicrously slow pace. It seemed as if he almost stood still when he was crawling the fastest.

“Why, Lazy, can’t you run faster?” Bumper asked.

“No, you can see I’m doing my best. I never was much of a runner.”

“I should think not,” laughed Bumper. “I might give you a lift of a few yards, but that wouldn’t do much good. The fire would soon catch up to you.”

“No, that wouldn’t save me,” wailed Lazy. “Nothing will save me. I’m going to be roasted alive.”

Bumper looked distressed. The thought of leaving Lazy behind to be burnt up was more than he could stand. Spotty the Chameleon clinging to his back had already become a burden to him, and he felt that another on his back would handicap him dreadfully. However, he couldn’t leave Lazy the Snail.

“Crawl up on my back, Lazy, and I’ll carry you,” he said finally. “But you must hurry! The fire’s coming very fast.”

Lazy was so slow in crawling up that Bumper several times grew impatient and urged him to hurry. When he was finally on one shoulder, clinging to it with his moist feet, Bumper started off once more. He had to make up for lost time, and he hopped along at the top of his speed.

All the while he was thinking of Fuzzy Wuzz and Old Blind Rabbit. Would they run for the river, or would they wait for him to return? It distressed him to think that he had not been able to warn Whip-Poor-Will and Hermit the Thrush as he had promised. Would they wait for him?

He put forth all his strength to gain on the other animals, and soon found himself in the lead again. He passed Buster the Bear and Billy the Mink and Sleepy the Opossum.

“I wish I could run as fast as you, Bumper,” Sleepy wailed. “I’m afraid I’ll be too late.”

“No, there’s time enough, Billy,” replied Bumper. “I want to run ahead to warn Fuzzy Wuzz and Old Blind Rabbit.”

“Oh, they’ll know the fire’s coming long before you reach home. Won’t you wait for me? I’m terribly frightened, and if you leave me behind I know I’ll die.”

Bumper slowed down to comfort Billy. He ran alongside of him for a time to keep him company. This put new heart in Billy, and of course hope gave him strength and he really ran faster than before.

They nearly stumbled over White-Foot the Deer Mouse, who had been running as fast as his little legs would permit him. But he curled up now, and stopped, panting for breath.

“What’s the matter, White Foot?” asked Bumper.

“I’m all in,” panted White Foot. “I can’t run another step. I’ve run all the way from Bald Mountain today, and I’m too tired to take another step.”

“But the fire will catch you here,” protested Bumper. “You must try again.”

“No, I can’t. I tell you I’m exhausted, and my feet are bleeding.”

He held up a foot that was covered with blood. Bumper’s pity for him was more than he could express in words. “Crawl upon my back, White Foot. I guess I can carry another.”

“Thank you, Bumper! You will save my life if you carry me.”

And White Foot the Deer Mouse hopped up by the side of Lazy the Snail and Spotty the Chameleon. With this added burden Bumper found that he couldn’t run much faster than Sleepy the Opossum.

“I’ll have to keep company with you now, Billy,” he said. “I can’t run faster with so many on my back.”

“Why do you carry them, Bumper?” asked Sleepy. “Why don’t you let them look out for themselves?”

“For shame on you, Sleepy! Would you leave them behind to be burnt up? No, no, we can’t do that. We must help each other.”

“I don’t see that anybody’s helping me,” growled Sleepy.

“I thought I was helping you by keeping you company,” replied Bumper. “If it isn’t doing you any good, I may as well run ahead.”

“No, no, don’t leave me!” cried Sleepy. “You are helping me. I didn’t mean what I was saying before.”

“All right, then! Don’t grumble because somebody else is having an easier time than you.”

They were approaching the river where it was broad and deep, and some of the animals ahead were squealing and grunting with pleasure. Once across the river, they would be safe from the flames.

“Now we’ll soon be there!” exclaimed Bumper hopefully. “I can smell the water, Billy.”

“I’m glad of it, for I’m nearly dead.”

A little squeaking voice suddenly startled them, and out of a hole in the nearest tree popped the head of Stripe the Chipmunk. “Bumper! Bumper!” he squealed in his high, piping voice. “Is it true the woods are on fire?”

“Yes, Stripe, and you’d better hurry to the river.”

“But I can’t! I broke my leg last week, and I can’t use it. Do you think I’ll be safe in this hole?”

“No, of course not! All the trees will fall down and be burnt up.”

“Then I’ll burn with them. Oh! Oh! What can I do?”

Bumper stopped and looked at him. Stripe was a fat, healthy fellow, and weighed so much that Bumper wondered if he could carry him on his back.

“I’ll try to carry you, Stripe,” he said finally. “The river is nearby, and maybe I can do it. Run up on my back, and hold tight.”

Sleepy the Opossum gained on Bumper after that. The white rabbit couldn’t possibly keep up with him. But he reached the river finally, with Stripe the Chipmunk, Lazy the Snail, Spotty the Chameleon and White Foot the Deer Mouse clinging to his back. In the next story you will hear of how they crossed the river.

STORY VIII

HOW THEY CROSSED THE RIVER

It was a strange sight that met them when they reached the edge of the river. All the animals of the woods, big and little, four-legged and two-legged, and those without any legs, such as Killer the Snake, were congregated there on the bank. Some of them who naturally loved the water, such as Billy the Mink and Browny the Muskrat, were already in the river, swimming for the other side.

But most of them were waiting, dipping their feet in the water, and then withdrawing them. They didn’t like to take the long swim unless it was necessary. They kept looking over their shoulders to see if the fire was near, and then glancing longingly at the other shore.

Bumper sighed with relief when he saw Fuzzy Wuzz, Spotted Tail and Old Blind Rabbit waiting for him. “Oh, Bumper, we were so worried about you!” exclaimed Fuzzy Wuzz. “I’m glad you’re here!”

“There wasn’t any need to worry about me,” replied Bumper. “I can look after myself. But where’s Rolly Polly and his family?”

“They’re here--all safe.”

“And Pink Nose, and Brindley the Lame?”

“All here!”

“Then everything’s all right,” sighed Bumper. “I was afraid some of them might get caught.” Then recalling the distress of the birds, he asked about Hermit the Thrush and Mrs. Oven-Bird and Black Cap the Chickadee. Fuzzy Wuzz laughed and pointed to the other side.

“They’re on the other side of the river,” she said. “They flew across before we got here.”

“That’s good. I almost wish I had wings. Is the water cold?”

“Yes, terribly,” replied Fuzzy Wuzz, shuddering. “That’s why we hate to take the plunge. Ugh! It makes me shiver!”

Bumper laughed at her expression. “When the fire gets here it will be warm enough,” he said.

Fuzzy Wuzz suddenly grew grave and serious. “It’s too bad about Bobby Gray Squirrel,” she said.

“What’s the matter with Bobby?” asked Bumper.

“Haven’t you heard? He’s been sick, and when we passed his hole he was too weak to follow us. We called to him, but he couldn’t come with us. He tried it, but he fell out of the tree, and I’m afraid he hurt himself.”

“What!” exclaimed Bumper. “Bobby Gray Squirrel’s back there in the woods!”

“Yes,” nodded Fuzzy Wuzz.

Bumper turned around. “I must go and help him,” he said. “I can’t leave him to die such a horrible death.”

“Oh, you can’t do anything, Bumper,” pleaded Fuzzy Wuzz. “You mustn’t go back. You’ll be killed by the fire, too.”

“I can’t leave Bobby,” replied Bumper. “No, no, I must try to help him. I’ll go back before it’s too late.”

“But what will become of me?” piped up a little voice near his ear, and Spotty the Chameleon changed from a bright green to a sickly yellow.

“I think,” Bumper replied, “you must get across some other way.”

“I’ll try to swim,” piped up White Foot the Deer Mouse. “I feel quite rested now.”

“I don’t have to swim across,” said Lazy the Snail. “I’ll crawl down into the wet mud and be safe.”

“I can’t very well swim with a broken leg,” said Stripe the Chipmunk, “but if you’ll put me on a chip I can float down the river.”

Bumper had forgotten his little charges, and for a moment he was distressed. Then he said to Fuzzy Wuzz: “Find a chip for Stripe so he can float on it, and then swim along by White Foot to see that he doesn’t get exhausted. I’ll get Pink Nose to carry Spotty across on his back. He’ll do it.”

He hopped away, and soon brought Pink Nose back with him, who promised to look out for the Chameleon. Lazy said good-bye, and began burrowing into the soft mud. Fuzzy Wuzz put Stripe the Chipmunk on a big chip, and then started to swim across with White Foot the Deer Mouse.

“Now all of you get across,” Bumper commanded, “and I’ll go back to see if I can do anything for Bobby Gray Squirrel.”

“Oh, Bumper, do be careful, and return soon,” pleaded Fuzzy Wuzz.

Bumper promised, and then dashed back into the woods. In a very short time he found the smoke growing so dense that it made him gasp. But he raced on directly toward the approaching fire. Pretty soon hot, scorching cinders fell about him, and he could hear the roar of the flames.

The bright light ahead told him he was nearly upon the fire, but he loped along, making straight for Bobby’s tree. When he reached it he began calling frantically.

“Bobby! Bobby!”

A weak little voice responded, and Bumper jumped to where it came from. There curled up in the leaves at the bottom of the big tree was Bobby Gray Squirrel too sick to care whether the fire was near or not.

“What’d you come back for, Bumper?” he asked.

“To save you,” was the quick reply.

“You can’t do it. I’m too sick and weak to walk.”

“Then get on my back, and hold tight. I’ll carry you.”

“No, Bumper, you couldn’t do it. I’m too heavy for you. Run along and save yourself.”

“Get on my back, Bobby, and stop talking! Quick now, or we’ll both be scorched. The fire’s nearly here.”

Still protesting, Bobby finally obeyed. He was almost as big as Bumper, but not so fat and heavy, and to hold himself on he had to cling to the white rabbit’s neck. This choked Bumper, and made it more difficult for him to run.

But he couldn’t stop for that. He had to hurry, or both of them would be killed by the fire. He hopped along slowly with his burden, and the fire seemed to gain on them. In vain he tried to run faster, but he was doing all he could. His strength was giving out rapidly.

“I can never swim the river with him,” he kept thinking. “I’ll drown surely, but that’s better than being burnt alive.”

When he finally reached the water he was too exhausted to jump in. Bobby realized that it was impossible to go further. “You go alone, Bumper, and leave me,” Bobby said. “I can’t swim, but you can.”

“No, I can’t swim either,” panted Bumper. “I haven’t any strength left.”

“Hello!” a gruff voice called back of them. “Who can’t swim, and why not?”

Buster the Bear stood back of them ready to plunge in the river. Bumper explained in a few words what he had done, and what he hoped to do. Buster looked at him with a curious expression in his eyes.

“Well, well,” he said. “It’s too bad to spoil a good thing. I guess I’ll have to take a hand in it. Now both of you jump on my back, and I’ll get you across. I don’t mind a little swim like that.”

Buster was in earnest and when he invited them both to get on his back the second time, Bobby crawled up and clung to his thick wool, but Bumper had to perch on his head so he wouldn’t lose his balance. Then, grinning at the queer burden he was carrying, Buster waded out until the water was over his head, and then began swimming. In this way Bumper and Bobby Gray Squirrel crossed the river to a place of safety. They were the last of the animals of the North Woods to get away from the fire.

If Buster doesn’t decide to eat them, or the river doesn’t dry up, you’ll hear in the next story what happened to them on the other side.

STORY IX

THE TRUCE

That was a great ride across the river on Buster’s back. Bobby Gray Squirrel had no difficulty in clinging to the Bear’s thick wool, for his claws were made to dig into things and hold on; but Bumper felt like a shipwrecked mariner riding the waves on a cockle-shell. Every time Buster pitched forward, or turned his head sideways or looked up at the sky, Bumper clutched with all four paws at the shaggy head, and felt that he would be dumped into the water to finish the trip alone. It was a balancing act with him that made every moment perilous and uncertain.

Now all the other animals and birds who had escaped from the fire were lined upon the shore, and when they saw Buster the Bear swimming toward them with Bumper the White Rabbit perched on his head and Bobby Gray Squirrel clinging to his back they stared in amazement, rubbing their eyes, and wondering if they were seeing things that were really not so. Then as the truth of the funny sight dawned upon them, they sat up a shout of welcome. The birds whistled; the animals barked or squealed; Killer the Snake squirmed and hissed, and Rolly Polly and Pink Nose lay back and laughed until the tears streamed down their cheeks.

Suddenly a loud, harsh “Ha! Ha! Ha!” rose above the din. It was Mr. Crow laughing at the funny picture.

The others immediately changed their tune, and the woods rang with laughter. Even Sneaky the Wolf showed his teeth in a grin, and made a noise that sounded like a chuckle and Mr. Fox rolled over and over in convulsions of merriment.

Shrike the Butcher Bird screamed with delight, and forgot his grudge against the other birds, and Singer the Mocking Bird began imitating the cries and chuckles of the others until the forest fairly bubbled with mirthful sounds. Buster didn’t quite understand the meaning of it all, but after a while, puffing and panting, he reached shallow water, and began wading ashore.

“Are they laughing at us?” he asked suddenly. “It’s no laughing matter,” he added with a growl. He objected to being made the butt of a joke, although he liked to play jokes on others.

“They don’t mean anything unkind, Buster,” Bumper said. “They are happy to think you’ve saved us.”

“Huh! That’s a funny way to show it,” snorted Buster.

And when he crawled up on dry land, and saw Sneaky the Wolf grinning, he cuffed him on the ear, and added:

“What do you see that’s so funny, Sneaky? I didn’t see you saving anybody but your own skin.”

Sneaky snarled and drew away.

“I wasn’t as thoughtful as you, Buster,” he sneered. “If I had been I’d carried over two or three rabbits to eat when I got ashore. But Bobby and Bumper will only make a mouthful for you.”

“You think I saved them to eat them?” snapped Buster angrily.

“Why, certainly,” politely replied Sneaky drawing away from the big paws. “What else would you save them for?”

Bobby and Bumper didn’t like the expression on Sneaky’s face, and they felt like running and hiding, but they decided Buster was a good enough protector for them, and they remained close by his side.

“No, Buster saved them for us,” remarked Mr. Fox slyly. “We ought to thank him for it.”

“Come here, Mr. Fox, and thank me,” snarled Buster, turning suddenly.

“No, thank you,” replied Mr. Fox, trotting to a safe distance. “I can thank you here just as well.”

Now that they were all safe on the other side of the river, the old hunting instincts of the bigger animals were returning, and the natural timidity of the smaller ones began to show itself. While caught in the fire a truce had been declared, but they were all safe now.

Brindley the Lame, Crooked Ears, Pink Nose and Rolly Polly began calling their families together to hide in the bushes, and Sleepy the Opossum was taking to the nearest tree, and Browny the Muskrat was hunting for a convenient hole. The birds were also separating according to their clans--the song birds and thrushes on one side, and Dasher the Hawk, Great Horn the Owl and Baldy the Eagle on the other. Loup the Lynx, who had been resting in the crotch of a tree after his long swim, was crouching and viewing the smaller animals with fierce, hungry eyes.

Bumper saw in a glance that war was about to be declared, and all his people without homes or any secret hiding place would become easy prey to their enemies. His soul troubled him. The slaughter might be almost as great as if they had all been caught in the fire. He felt called upon to do something to avert the tragedy.

“Buster, let me speak to them,” he said suddenly, hopping back on the top of the Bear’s head where he could look around and see everyone. The sight of the white rabbit on Buster’s head once more excited amusement.

Mr. Crow started off with his loud “Ha! Ha!” and Singer the Mocking Bird repeated it. The others couldn’t resist it, and they all began laughing again. Bumper felt pleased at this, for when an animal is laughing he can’t be very dangerous.

Smiling and bowing, Bumper finally raised a paw, and said: “Now that we’re safe from the fire, we must begin life again on this side of the river. It’s all new to us, and not one of us has a home. Sneaky and Loup and Mr. Fox were very kind to us when we were caught in the fire. Not one of them tried to kill us. We’re going to thank them for that.”

Sleepy the Opossum, Washer the Raccoon, Mr. Beaver, Curly the Skunk and all the others nodded their heads, and expressed their thanks in their different ways. Bumper raised his head, and added: “Also we must thank Baldy the Eagle for not attacking the birds, and Dasher the Hawk and Great Horn the Owl. Instead of attacking us Baldy actually gave us warning of the fire, and in that way helped us.”

Baldy looked a little pleased at this, and nodded his head. Great Horn ruffled his feathers in pride, and blinked hard at the sun. Bumper saw that his flattery had a good effect, and while they were still in a pleasant mood he made haste to propose his plan.

“Now I’m sure they’re going to give us another chance,” he went on. “None of us has a home, and it will take several days for all of us to make new ones. Baldy wants to find a new one for his mate, and Loup is anxious to please Mrs. Loup, who is waiting for him. Now why not declare a truce for two days until we can all get settled again on this side of the river? Isn’t that fair?”

Sneaky and Mr. Fox looked a little uncertain, but Mrs. Loup the Lynx settled it for her lord and husband. “Yes,” she said, “that’s fair. Come on, Loup, and help me find a new home.”

Baldy’s mate, who was a little cross at being driven away from her nest on Bald Mountain, was equally anxious to begin housekeeping in their new place. She whispered a word or two, and Baldy flapped his wings, and the two flew away together.

“How about you, Sneaky and Mr. Fox?” growled Buster, turning to these two. “Are you going to live up to the truce?”

“Why--er--” stammered Mr. Fox.

“If you don’t,” interrupted Buster, “I’ll make you. To tell you the truth, I’d like a few boxing lessons with you and Sneaky.”

“Yes, yes, of course, we agree,” replied Mr. Fox and Sneaky hurriedly.

“Then the meeting is over,” declared Buster. “Now every one trot away, and begin house hunting. Is that right, Bumper?”

“Yes, Buster,” replied the white rabbit, climbing down. “And if you ever need a friend, don’t forget that Bobby and I owe our lives to you. We can never thank you enough.”

“Oh, that’s all right!” grinned Buster, as he lumbered away. So the meeting was ended, and the animals and birds began to separate. How they found new homes in the woods, and the adventures that befell them will be told in the next story.

STORY X

HOUSE HUNTING IN THE WOODS

The great fire that had swept away the woods in which they had always lived made every one of the birds and animals homeless. Of course, they were thankful they had escaped the flames, but they had lost all their possessions. Nobody had carried anything away with him.

The next two days were spent in house hunting. They were busy days you can imagine. It is no easy thing for even the birds and animals to pick up a home and start housekeeping again. There are so many things to consider.

For instance, the first hole Washer the Raccoon entered was the entrance to an ideal home for him, but Billy the Porcupine entered from another side at the same time. A dispute immediately followed.

“This is my home,” said Billy, bristling up his spines.

“No, it isn’t,” retorted Washer. “I got here first.”

“No such thing. I discovered it first. Because you can run faster doesn’t matter. It’s the question of which discovers it first.”

“Possession is half the law,” retorted Washer, showing his teeth. “And I have possession.”

“How can you prove that when I’m in possession, too?” snapped Billy. “I’m here, and you can’t put me out.”

“I can, and will,” said Washer, and he made a quick dart at Billy, who curled up so suddenly that his sharp spines bristled on every side.

Washer danced around him, but he was unable to get at Billy, who laughed and shouted:

“Now who’s got possession?”

Washer wasn’t to be bullied, however, and retorted: “I’ll starve you out. You don’t dare uncurl. If you do I’ll get you. Now we’ll see who owns the place.”

But Billy had a ready answer. “If I starve you’ll starve too. The minute you go out for food, I’ll go too. Now what are you going to do?”

Washer recognized the truth of this, and was silent. He watched Billy with angry eyes, but he was still afraid of the bristling ball of sharp quills. They were in this attitude of waiting when Bumper appeared at the mouth of the hole.

“Hello!” he exclaimed, addressing Fuzzy Wuzz. “This looks like a promising place. Let’s investigate it.”

He ran in the hole, and came up against Washer the Raccoon. “You in here, Washer?” he asked. “I didn’t know you were here. Then I must look for some other place for a home.”

“Yes, I’m here,” replied Washer crossly. “And so is Billy the Porcupine. There he is sulking in the corner. He refused to leave when I ordered him out.”

“He had no right to order me away, Bumper,” Billy said, uncurling. “I discovered the hole first, and came here to claim it for a home.”

“But I beat him down here,” interrupted Washer, “and the one that gets first in a hole has a right to it. Isn’t that the law of the woods, Bumper?”

“Well, well!” said Bumper, scratching his nose thoughtfully. “You’re both right, I suppose, but one must be wrong.”

“I discovered it first,” interrupted Billy, “and that made it mine.”

“And I was first down here,” said Washer angrily.

“It seems to me,” remarked Bumper, “that this is a knotty question to settle. Suppose you both give it up, and then neither will have the advantage.”

“Huh!” growled Washer. “You want it for yourself.”

“I don’t see why I should give it up,” added Billy, “not even to you, Bumper.”

“You misunderstand me, Billy. I didn’t want it for myself, but you and Washer can’t stand here forever disputing about the ownership. You’d never get settled. We want peace in the new woods.”

The dispute might have lasted indefinitely, for Bumper was puzzled how to settle it; but just as he was thinking he would have to give it up Groundy the Woodchuck rushed down the hole, and seeing so many there he stopped in surprise.