Part 4

“Hello! I didn’t know I had company in my new home!” he exclaimed. “Well, I’m glad to see all of you. It’s a nice comfortable home, isn’t it? Almost as good as the one I had in the North Woods. Welcome all of you!”

“Well, if that isn’t the limit!” exclaimed Washer.

“The idea!” said Billy, uncurling a little more. “I guess you don’t own the whole woods, Groundy.”

“No, I don’t claim any such thing, Billy,” replied Groundy. “But I do claim this place. Why shouldn’t I? I discovered it first, and started to make my nest here.”

“You did, eh?” snapped Washer. “I was the first one down here, and it’s mine.”

“I discovered it first, and it’s mine,” echoed Billy.

Bumper saw that the dispute was likely to cause hard feeling between the three friends, and he wished to settle it in a friendly way.

“When did you find it, Groundy?” he asked. “And were you down here before?”

“Yes, hours ago.”

“Well, I’ve been here for ever and ever so long,” said Billy. “Washer knows that, for he’s been here too.”

“Yes, we came in here a long time ago, and Groundy wasn’t in sight then. I don’t believe he was ever here before. He’s just saying that to claim the hole.”

Groundy showed some impatience, and then spying something way down in the bottom of the burrow he smiled. Washer and Billy, who had joined together to dispute his right, looked in the same direction, but they could see nothing.

“If I prove that I discovered the burrow first, and was down here before either Billy or Washer, is it my home?” Groundy asked, turning to Bumper.

“Yes, that’s only fair. It’s the law of the woods, and Billy and Washer should agree to it. You will, won’t you?”

He turned and addressed the two sulking animals.

“Yes, I will,” Billy assented after a pause.

“I too,” said Washer, “but he’s got to prove it, and not make up a story.”

“I’ll prove it,” smiled Groundy. “I don’t have to make up any story. Billy, look in the corner there and tell me what’s under those leaves.”

Billy wondering what he meant by this remark obeyed. There was a big ball of leaves at the bottom that he hadn’t noticed there before, and when he pawed around in them there was a little squeak, and up popped the heads of three little woodchucks. They were the children of Groundy, which he and Mrs. Groundy had brought from their old home safely across the river. They were stowed away snugly in the hole, and had been fast asleep.

“Well, how’d they get down here?” gasped Billy.

“I brought them here hours ago,” replied Groundy. “That’s my evidence that I was here before either you or Washer.”

Washer laughed good-naturedly. “I guess you’ve proved your point, Groundy, and I for one will leave. I couldn’t drive out those dear little woodchucks.”

“Nor me either,” said Billy, smiling down at the sleepy youngsters.

“Then I guess we’d all better leave,” remarked Bumper, “and let Groundy have the burrow.”

So the dispute of ownership was settled, and all hopped away, leaving Groundy in possession. The next story will be about how Bumper settled a dispute between Pink Nose and Rolly Polly.

STORY XI

PINK NOSE AND ROLLY POLLY

Bumper, finding that Groundy was entitled to the burrow he and Fuzzy Wuzz had entered, hopped away in search of another place. Of course, there had been a grand scramble in the woods for the choice sites. Just like people when new land is thrown open for settlement, every one of the animals made a rush for the best holes.

This naturally caused all sorts of conflicts, and disputes rose on every side. The choicest places were close to the river where they would have water right at their door. But Billy the Mink and Browny the Muskrat had the first right to these water sites, for they couldn’t live inland. Their homes had to be near or under the water. Mr. Beaver likewise had to have a swimming pool adjoining his home, and he came in next for river views.

Fortunately Sneaky the Wolf and Mr. Fox, as well as Loup the Lynx, preferred dens in the very heart of the woods, and they prowled around in the thickest places, leaving the smaller animals to dispute about sites on the water front.

Even the rabbits wanted to be within a short distance of the river. “If we have a fire on this side some day,” remarked Pink Nose, “I want to be so close to the river I can cross it in the middle of the night.”

“Goodness me!” exclaimed Rolly Polly. “Don’t speak about another fire! I don’t think I could go through another one.”

“It frightened me so,” said Crooked Ears, “that I’m sure some of my hairs turned gray. Certainly I feel years older.”

“Yes,” added Brindley the Lame, “it was a terrible experience, but finding new homes for all our families is nearly as heart-rending. I declare, I’ve hunted nearly everywhere, and haven’t found a place yet to suit me. When I do find one that seems just right somebody is ahead of me and takes possession.”

“That reminds me,” laughed Bumper, “of the experience of Billy Porcupine and Washer the Raccoon. They thought they both discovered a home at the same time, and neither would give in.”

Then he related the story of how Groundy the Woodchuck had proven to them that neither one had any right to the burrow, for he had been ahead of them.

“Ha! Ha!” laughed Rolly Polly. “That was a good one, and served Billy and Washer right for being so selfish.”

“But they both thought they were right,” said Bumper, “yet one of them must have been wrong. Which would you say was in the right, Rolly Polly?”

“Neither,” was the prompt retort. “They were both wrong, and very selfish. If each had given in to the other there would have been no dispute.”

“Would you have given in?”

“Certainly! Who wouldn’t?”

“I’m sure I would,” said Pink Nose. “I quite agree with Rolly Polly.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” said Bumper, smiling. “There wouldn’t be any disputes if all were as unselfish as you and Rolly Polly.”

Perhaps Pink Nose and Rolly Polly thought they would be unselfish, and they could condemn Billy and Washer without having to be put to a real test. But sometimes when we boast of our virtues we soon get in a fix where we have to prove our words. Now this was just what happened to Rolly Polly and Pink Nose.

They started out shortly in different directions to renew the search for a home site. Rolly Polly, after much wandering around, came to a clump of trees which seemed to offer an ideal home for his family.

“I’ll burrow down under that big tree,” he said, “and make a spacious home for my little ones. The dirt is soft and smooth here, and the roots of the tree will make a good foundation for the tunnels.”

Satisfied that he had at last found just what he had been looking for, he began digging. First he dug straight down a foot under the biggest root, and then ran his tunnel along under the tree. When he reached the middle he intended to run tunnels on either side, and build his burrow.

He worked hard for several hours until the hole was big enough to suit him. “I must be nearly under the middle of the tree,” he mused, and stopped to rest a minute.

Suddenly there was a noise of scratching and scraping. At first he thought it was outside, and he lay very quiet in the hole, but a moment later he was sure that the digging came from underneath. A little frightened, he waited and listened.

Some animal was digging down on the opposite side of the big tree. Rolly Polly was ready to run if the animal proved to be an enemy, but before he could leave the dirt crumbled before him, and the head of Pink Nose was thrust through the opening.

“What a scare you gave me!” exclaimed Rolly Polly. “I thought the Hound or Mr. Fox was after me.”

“You gave me a shock, too,” replied Pink Nose. “I didn’t know you were here until I saw you.”

“Yes, I’ve found a home for my family at last. I chose this big tree, and I’ve dug a tunnel clear under it. But what are you doing, Pink Nose?”

“Digging a burrow for my family. Can’t you see for yourself? I started on the other side of the tree, and I’ve dug clear down to here.”

“Yes, but you can’t have this place,” protested Rolly Polly. “I’ve selected it for my burrow.”

“And I’ve selected it for mine. See what a long tunnel I’ve dug.”

“Not longer than mine.”

“Oh, yes, it is. Just to show you I’ll measure it, and then we’ll measure yours.”

“All right! It’s agreed that the one who’s dug the longest tunnel has the place for his burrow. Is that right?”

“Yes, I’ll agree to that.”

They measured first one, and then the other. Then they measured them again, and frowned. They were exactly the same length.

“Now what are you going to do?” asked Pink Nose.

“Stay here, of course. I have as much right as you.”

“Then I’ll stay, too. You can’t frighten me away, and I don’t intend to have all my work for nothing.”

Bumper found them in this unyielding state of mind, with neither one willing to give way to the other. Recalling their remarks about Billy Porcupine and Washer the Raccoon, Bumper smiled to himself. After all they were not much less selfish than Billy and Washer when put to the real test. It is always easier to preach than practice.

“It seems to me,” Bumper remarked after a while, “that we’d better make a two-family house out of this burrow. That’s the simplest solution of the problem.”

“How can we do that?” asked Rolly Polly. “I never heard of such a thing. My family could never live with Pink Nose’s family.”

“No, but you could dig to the right, and Pink Nose to the left, starting from this meeting point,” Bumper explained. “Your burrow would be on the right, and Pink Nose’s on the left, and you could each use your own entrance to it. Then you wouldn’t have to do the work you’ve done all over again.”

This pleased both of them, and they began burrowing to the right and left until they had the first two-family house ever built in the woods. Each had its separate entrance, which met in a common hall at their doors. The next story will tell of Downy the Woodpecker and Belt the Sapsucker.

STORY XII

DOWNY THE WOODPECKER AND BELT THE SAPSUCKER

Not all the trouble in establishing themselves in the new woods was confined to the animals. The coming of so many birds across the river all at once, each without a home or nesting place, caused a great amount of confusion. There were trees aplenty, but not every tree is suitable for a bird’s nest.

Piney the Purple Finch, for instance, wanted the same high branch to build his nest on that Mr. Pine Grosbeak had chosen, and they quarreled over it until Shrike the Butcher Bird came along and drove them both away with his shrill cries and threatening manner. Yellow Breast the Chat found a tangled thicket under a big pine for his home, but Towhee the Chewink objected, for he had made his new home in that thicket. Hermit the Thrush had been fortunate in finding an ideal home for her brood, and was perfectly satisfied until she found Great Horn the Owl had taken possession of a hole in a rotten tree branch directly over her head.

And so it was with all the others. There were confusion and disputes and mistakes, and all sorts of heart aches and disappointment. But the saddest was the trouble between Downy the Woodpecker and Belt the Sapsucker.

Now Downy and Belt were close relations, first cousins, in fact, and they should have known better; but then relatives, even brothers and sisters, sometimes have their quarrels, and we can’t entirely blame Belt and Downy.

It was this way. Downy found a hole in the rotten trunk of a tall tree, and immediately began hollowing it out a little more so he could build his nest at the bottom. Then Belt, who had had poor luck finding a place for his home, saw the tree, and immediately became jealous of his cousin. And envy generally breeds unpleasant thoughts and deeds. Belt determined to drive Downy away by methods that later he was ashamed of.

“You’re surely not going to build your nest in that hole Downy!” Belt exclaimed.

“Why, yes, I am! Why shouldn’t I?”

“Well, if you want Hoot the Owl in your family it’s none of my affair,” was the reply.

“Hoot the Owl! Is he around here?” exclaimed Downy, in genuine surprise and alarm.

“Around here!” laughed Belt. “Didn’t you see him digging out that hole to build his nest? Surely you must see marks of his claws in the wood.”

Downy was so frightened that he thought he saw the marks of Hoot’s claws all around him. Yes, he was certain that the hole had been dug out by Hoot, and he could smell the odors of the owl at the bottom now that his attention was called to it.

“Thank you for telling me, Belt,” he said. “Of course, I don’t want to build anywhere near Hoot. No, no, not within a mile of him. I’ll go as far away as I can.”

And he flew away, leaving Belt in possession. It was a wicked trick, but Belt felt that the circumstances warranted a little deception. He wanted the hole in the worst way, and now that Downy had abandoned it, why, of course, he had a right to take it. He began almost immediately to fix it up. He dug a little deeper into the heart of the tree with his strong bill until he had a hole that just satisfied him.

Then he flew away to gather leaves and grass for the nest. He made many trips until the nest was nearly all built. He wanted it finished before Mrs. Belt arrived, but night came with it only three-quarters finished.

“I think I’ll sleep in it tonight,” he said, “and then finish it early in the morning.”

He went to bed early, as all self-respecting birds do, and was fast asleep shortly after dusk. He was dreaming of pleasant things when he was suddenly awakened by a noise outside. He sat up and listened. It was Mr. Hoot the Owl and his mate sitting on the doorstep of his home talking.

“I think this hole will do very well for us,” Hoot was saying. “It’s the best I can find.”

“I don’t know,” replied Mrs. Hoot. “We might find a better place if we looked further.”

“Haven’t we looked all over the woods?” asked Hoot impatiently. “I’m dreadfully tired, and this house hunting tires me more than anything else in the world. The last place I selected you didn’t like because it was too near the river, and now this one is way back.”

“It’s too far away from all my friends, too,” objected Mrs. Hoot. “I don’t like to live off alone. I want to be near other people.”

“Yes, that’s it--always objecting!” exclaimed Hoot irritably. “Well, then, if you can find a better place go and look for it. This suits me.”

“Now please don’t get angry,” replied Mrs. Hoot. “I didn’t say this place didn’t please me. I can’t tell until we look it over. Suppose we go inside and see how it is in there. Of course, there will have to be many improvements made. I never saw a house ready-made for me that was satisfactory in all respects.”

“No, indeed,” replied Hoot. “But I’ll look inside.”

You can imagine Belt’s feelings! There he was shut up in the hole with Hoot the Owl coming down to look around. Oh, what could he do! Why had he deceived Downy! Now he was going to be punished for his lie.

“If I ever get out of here alive,” he breathed, “I’ll never tell another lie. I’ll never deceive any one again.”

But of course this didn’t get him out. Nothing could! The entrance was blocked by Hoot and his mate. Then he heard Hoot scrambling through the opening. In another minute he would discover Belt crouched at the bottom of the hole.

“Oh, dear, the hole is altogether too small for us,” he heard Hoot say. “No, this will never suit you. It will take more repairing than it’s worth. I’ll have to make the entrance twice as large.”

“Then if we’re going to look further come on right away,” said Mrs. Hoot. “We’ve got to find a suitable place before morning.”

After a few more words they flew away. Belt heard them go, and a great relief came to him. It seemed too good to be true. He wasn’t going to be eaten up after all. He was so thankful that he said to himself before he dropped off to sleep again, “In the morning I’ll tell Downy he can have the hole. I’ll confess all to him.”

But when the sun appeared, and Belt peeped out of the hole to see the light of a new day, he was so pleased with the beauty of the woods that he regretted he had decided to give up his home to Downy. For a moment his decision wavered. Then he said: “No, I’ll keep my word. I’ll tell Downy at once.”

He flew away into the woods until he found his cousin. Downy listened to his story, and then shook his head:

“You deserve the scare you got, Belt, but I forgive you for telling me that story. However, I don’t want the hole. I’ve found one that suits me better. You can have the old one.”

So it really worked out for the best, and Belt took permanent possession of the old hole, which he took good care not to enlarge so Hoot could get in, and Downy remained in happy possession of the new one he had found.

In the next story you will hear how Killer the Snake broke the truce in the woods and got himself in trouble.

STORY XIII

HOW KILLER THE SNAKE BROKE THE TRUCE

Of all the creatures of the woods Killer the Snake had the reputation for sly deception that made him the most distrusted. Perhaps his reputation was not founded upon justice, but at any rate Bumper was not easy in mind when Killer crawled away in the bushes, after the agreement, without a word as to his intentions.

Killer’s favorite pastime was robbing nests of their eggs and young birds, or hunting Hoppy the Toad, which he swallowed whole. When such food was not to be found, he would sometimes raid the burrows of the larger animals. He had been known to run off with the young of Gray Back the Weasel and Stripe the Chipmunk.

Bumper’s fears that Killer might cause trouble seemed unfounded, however, and nothing was heard of Killer for the first day and night. Everybody seemed so busy finding a home that no one gave any attention to his coming and going.

Rusty the Blackbird reported that Killer was in the thick woods, but what he was doing there he could not say. He had kept an eye on him for a time, and then had to fly away to attend to his own business. The rest of the birds had not seen him at all, and his presence was something of a mystery.

On the second day, however, Bumper was returning to a burrow that he and Fuzzy Wuzz had discovered for their future home, when he was startled by the plaintive cries of Hermit the Thrush among the bushes. At first Bumper thought Hermit was talking to her mate, but when the cries increased he hopped in her direction.

“What’s all the noise about, Hermit?” he called. “Can’t you find a place for your new home?”

“Oh, Bumper,” exclaimed Hermit, fluttering toward him, “Killer is trying to rob my nest. I have one egg in it, and he’s going to steal it.”

Bumper gave a big jump through the bushes, and landed close to the place where Killer was coiled. Near him was Hermit’s nest in a small bush just off the ground. A tiny greenish egg was in it.

“Killer, if you break the law of the woods you’ll be punished,” Bumper exclaimed in anger. “The truce between the animals and birds hasn’t ended yet.”

Killer turned defiantly upon the white rabbit, and hissed: “Don’t bother your head, Bumper. This egg doesn’t belong to you. Now run along, and forget it.”

“You remember what I did to you the other day, Killer,” Bumper replied. “Well, this time you won’t get off so easily. If you don’t go away immediately, I’ll call all the birds and animals of the woods to punish you. They will outlaw you, and be your enemy forever.”

“That wouldn’t be anything new, Bumper,” hissed Killer. “They’re my enemies now. I’m going to have this egg for my breakfast. I’m mighty hungry.”

“No, you’re not,” answered Bumper, springing toward him. Killer dodged back and then shot his head forward as if to strike, but Bumper dodged and landed on the other side. His idea was to play the same game on Killer that had been so successful before but they were in a tangled thicket now, and not out in an open space.

He soon found it impossible to run around Killer in a circle until he got him dizzy watching. Indeed, Killer had the advantage of him. He could turn and crawl through the thicket much faster than the rabbit. Once in his effort to escape the darting head of the snake, Bumper stumbled and got caught in the bushes. Killer laughed heartily.

“In another minute I’d had you,” he said. “You can’t play that old trick on me in here. If you don’t look out I’ll get you yet, and choke you to death. If I once coil my body around you it will be the last time you’ll interfere with me.”

Bumper began to realize that he was in real danger, for there was little room in the bushes for him to hop around, and if he got caught once in the thicket Killer could crawl upon him and strangle him to death. So he had to be more cautious. He kept at a greater distance, but made darts at the serpent as if he intended to jump at him. Killer approached nearer, driving him further and further away from the nest.

“Now come on and fight me,” Killer jeered. “What’s the matter? Are you afraid of me?”

“Hermit! Hermit!” Bumper called over his shoulder.

When there was no response, Killer laughed at him.

“Hermit’s left you,” he said. “She’s afraid to stay here. She didn’t think enough of her egg to fight for it, but she let you risk your life to protect it. Now you see how much friendship amounts to!”

Bumper kept on calling, but Killer was apparently right. Hermit had left, and was not within hearing distance. Still for the sake of making Killer observe the truce, Bumper stood his ground, and took every advantage he could to run in and snap his teeth.

In spite of this the snake drove him away, and then crawled back to the nest. He reached the bush and started to climb it. Bumper made a furious rush to frighten him away. Then he stopped. He couldn’t go forward nor backward. He was caught in the thick bushes, with his plump body jammed in between two stout saplings and his neck entangled among briers and bushes.

“Ah! Ha!” exclaimed Killer jubilantly. “You’re caught now, and I’ll make short work of you. After I’ve strangled you to death, I’ll eat the egg at my leisure.”

Bumper struggled frantically to get loose, and Killer approached him, with his forked tongue darting out threateningly. Bumper suddenly felt weak and faint. The sight of Killer drawing nearer frightened him. He could neither run away nor protect himself.

It did seem like the last of Bumper. Killer was certain that he had him, and Bumper thought so too. With his neck caught in the vines, the rabbit couldn’t even turn to face his enemy. But neither one had reckoned with Hermit the Thrush.

It is true she had flown away, but not for the purpose of deserting Bumper. She thought Bumper would keep Killer busy until she could summon help.

And what a lot of helpers she found! When Killer was within a foot of Bumper there was a sudden sound of whirring wings, and the forest was darkened by the flight of birds that swooped down upon them. There were Rusty the Blackbird and his mate, Singer the Mocking Bird, Piney the Purple Finch, Belt the Sapsucker, Yellow Breast the Chat, and goodness knows how many others! It seemed as if all the birds of the North Woods were there, whistling, calling, crying and shrieking.

Killer looked up and caught sight of this great host, and then ducked his head. He tried to crawl away and hide in the bushes, but the birds found him and darted down at him. Their sharp bills caught him in the head, the body, the tail, and wherever he was the most sensitive.

Killer tried to fight back at first, but there were too many for him. They attacked him on all sides, and punished him so that he ached and pained all over. Then he ran, and the birds followed him. Again and again they pecked him. It was like sticking dozens of needles in his body.