Part 4

Such a thing as a vacation for a king was unheard of, although all of the rest could take any day they chose. Bumper couldn’t even steal out of the burrow alone for a little run without somebody going with him. The king had to be watched and accompanied all the time.

Now Old Blind Rabbit, in proclaiming Bumper the White Rabbit king, had thought first of only his own family, for he had no control over the other burrows; but he was so well known for his wisdom and age that the leaders of other burrows would listen to his words. He had wanted to keep Bumper’s coming a secret until he was sure that he had made no mistake in choosing him.

But now he thought was a good time to take him around to his friends—Brindley the Lame, Pink Nose, Rolly Polly and Crooked Ears. He wanted them to meet Bumper and judge for themselves. As leaders of their families, they knew the prophecy of the coming of a white rabbit, who some day would rule over all their people and redeem them from their weak ways.

“Bumper, my days are numbered, but yours are as many as the trees in the woods,” he said to the White Rabbit. “Before I go I want to see you accepted as king by Pink Nose, Rolly Polly, Crooked Ears, Brindley the Lame and White Tail. Then I can die in peace.”

Bumper nodded his head, and asked who all these important people were.

“They are leaders of big families here in the woods, and very influential. If they accept you all the other rabbits will follow.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then I fear there will be trouble. You cannot rule over a divided people and make them happy.”

This bit of wisdom could not be disputed, and Bumper added sadly: “Neither can the ruler be happy.”

“Well said, Bumper. But the time has come now when we must call on them. I shall take you in person, and explain to White Tail and the others the meaning of our call.”

This idea rather frightened Bumper. To meet so many important leaders, and carry himself as a king should, made him feel like quitting. Just for an instant he thought of the red-headed girl and her wonderful garden, and wished he was back with her. How delightful it would be to do nothing all day long but eat and receive her petting! He even thought he might be happier with the old woman back in the city.

But only for an instant did his thoughts thus play truant. He was a king now, with duties to perform, and he wasn’t going to prove unequal to them. Bumper had very fine qualities, which, after all, fitted him for a ruler more than his pink eyes and white fur. Goodness and wisdom were better than fine clothes.

Bumper had been learning rapidly the ways of his people in the woods, and he was quite familiar with many things that had before startled him. He had learned to know the difference between the good and bad plants, so there was no longer any danger of his poisoning himself. He had met Washer the Raccoon, and had made the acquaintance of Sleepy the Opossum. He was on good speaking terms with Mr. Beaver, and Billy the Mink had put himself out to compare his fur with his own beautiful coat.

He knew every trail in the woods, and could scent Mr. Fox from afar. He had even learned to swim, which he considered necessary for his health. The birds were his friends, and he had learned much from them. Frequently they brought him news which guided him in his work.

A few days after the Old Blind Rabbit had announced his intention of introducing Bumper to White Tail and the others, Rusty the Black Bird appeared near the burrow, and perched himself on the top of the rock until the white rabbit appeared.

“Hello, Bumper!” he called.

“Good-morning, Rusty!” replied Bumper. “It’s a long time since I’ve seen you.”

“If you’d arrange to see me oftener,” was the retort, “you wouldn’t get in so much trouble.”

“Thank you, Rusty, but I didn’t know I was in trouble.”

“Huh!” whistled Rusty. “Some people don’t know when they are in trouble.”

“Then it shouldn’t bother them,” laughed Bumper. “If you don’t know you have any trouble, why worry?”

“That may be good enough for a king, but it would never do for common people. We must be hunting for trouble all the time to avoid it.”

“If you hunt for it you’ll generally find it. No, I don’t believe in looking for what you don’t want.”

Rusty was a little provoked at what he took as a personal rebuke, and was half inclined to fly away; but Bumper’s smile changed his mind.

“Just to show you that trouble comes whether you hunt for it or not, I’m going to tell you something,” he added. “You’re going to be in a peck of trouble soon, Bumper.”

“That’s much better than being in a bushel, isn’t it?” he laughed.

“Oh, stop your joking, and be serious. This is a serious matter for you.”

“All right, I’m listening.”

“Well, then, Spotted Tail has been spreading false rumors about you. He asked me to carry the message, but I refused, and he asked Mr. Woodpecker and Towhee the Chewink. They told me so. But they wouldn’t listen to him.”

“I’m very grateful for that, and you can tell Towhee and Mr. Woodpecker so. But if nobody carried the news how did it get abroad?”

“Mr. Shrike the Butcher Bird carried it just because we wouldn’t. And after telling all the rabbits he told the news to Mr. Fox and Buster the Bear.”

“What is the news he told?” asked Bumper, gravely.

In a few words Rusty told him, and when he was through Bumper was graver than before. It pained him to think that Spotted Tail would betray him, and it made him sad to believe that his words could stir up discord among the rabbits.

“Thank you, Rusty,” he said in conclusion. “I’m glad to know it. Forewarned is forearmed.”

“Oh! Ho!” laughed Rusty. “Now you begin to change your mind about trouble. But you don’t have to hunt for it. It’s coming soon. It’s here now!”

STORY XI THE RABBITS RISE AGAINST BUMPER

Forewarned by Rusty, Bumper was partly prepared for the trouble that was brewing, but not so Old Blind Rabbit. Bumper had intended to tell him the truth, but he didn’t want to raise unnecessary alarm. Perhaps, after all, Rusty had exaggerated the danger, and nothing would come of Spotted Tail’s work.

So one morning he was greatly disturbed when there was a noise outside the burrow made by the pattering of many little feet. It was Goggle Eyes who brought the information in to Old Blind Rabbit.

“There is something in the wind, Old Blind Rabbit!” he exclaimed in excitement. “All the rabbits of the woods have come to visit us. There’s White Tail, with his huge family; Pink Nose and all his big sons; Crooked Ears, looking surly and angry; Brindley the Lame, Rolly Polly, and—oh!—many, many more!”

Old Blind Rabbit did not get excited. It was the way with him. Instead of always looking for trouble, he expected the best of everything.

“Perhaps it means,” he replied, after a moment’s thought, “that they have heard of Bumper’s coming, and they have come to meet him. I shall go out and see them. They’re all welcome.”

“They don’t look very friendly,” stammered Goggle Eyes. “They look and act positively rude. I don’t believe their coming is for any good.”

“Tut! Tut! You’re always looking for the worst, Goggle Eyes. Now I’ll go out and greet my brother leaders. Lend me a paw, Goggle Eyes.”

“No,” interrupted Bumper, who had heard the conversation. “You must let me go out first. I’ll speak to them, and if there’s trouble—”

“Spoken like a king, Bumper,” interrupted Old Blind Rabbit, “but I should meet White Tail and his friends first. They know me.”

“Listen!” added Bumper. “I have not told you before because I didn’t believe anything would come of it. But there may be trouble outside.”

“What trouble, Bumper? You mustn’t follow the ways of Goggle Eyes, and look for evil in everything.”

Bumper knew that he ought to tell, and straightway, without hesitation, he related all that Rusty had told him. Old Blind Rabbit listened in silence, but not without surprise and trembling.

“Where is Spotted Tail?” he asked in a voice of thunder when Bumper had finished.

Spotted Tail was nowhere around. Nobody knew where he was.

“He has betrayed us!” added Old Blind Rabbit, solemnly. “He has spread false news to our friends, and used Shrike the Butcher Bird as his messenger. Alack! And alas! that I should live to see this day!”

For a moment Old Blind Rabbit dropped back on his haunches and looked very sad and depressed. His age told on him, and his breath came slow and hard. Finally arousing himself, he continued:

“If Spotted Tail has stirred up a revolt, the truth must be told. I will see the leaders. They will listen to me.”

“No, let me go!” interrupted Bumper again. “If there’s any danger on my account, I must face it, and not you, Old Blind Rabbit.”

“They will not harm me, but in their passion they might do something to you, Bumper. It is the part of wisdom that I should see them first. Isn’t it so?”

All the others agreed to this, and much against his will Bumper stayed in the burrow, while Old Blind Rabbit was led outside by Goggle Eyes.

And what a sight it was outside the burrow! All the wild rabbits of the woods were assembled there. White Tail, Pink Nose, Crooked Ears, Brindley the Lame, Rolly Polly and a lot of other leaders were there with all their followers. The woods around the rock were literally alive with rabbits.

They were packed ten deep around the big rock, and scattered in groups all through the surrounding bushes. And on every face there was an angry, defiant look, and in every eye sullen discontent. Old Blind Rabbit could not see all these sights, but he sensed them before any one spoke. Then a babel of sounds greeted his ears. They were so many, and so confusing, that nobody could understand anybody else.

Finally Old Blind Rabbit reared himself on his haunches, and raised a paw for silence. “Listen,” he called. “There’s no sense in jabbering like silly babies. What is the trouble? Don’t all speak at once, but—”

“Where’s Bumper the White Rabbit!” they shouted back in unison.

Once more the senseless chatter made the air ring until Brindley the Lame took a tree stump and signalled for silence. “This isn’t a tea party,” he said, smiling, “and we shouldn’t waste time talking like a lot of magpies. Let some of the leaders speak for all.”

There was instant silence, and hundreds of heads were nodded. Brindley then continued:

“As for my part, I’m not sure but we’re all here on a fool’s errand. I never knew the Shrike to carry news that did any one good. However, we’re here, and a big crowd we are. We’ve brought all of our families with us, big and little, and I’m glad to see them—Mrs. White Tail with her children, and Mrs. Pink Nose—”

Brindley’s jollying pleased the younger rabbits, and they began to laugh and applaud; but not so the leaders. Crooked Ears rose up, and interrupted.

“Come to the point, Brindley! We’re here to drive Bumper the White Rabbit from the woods. That’s the long and short of it. Am I not right?”

A terrifying shout greeted these words, and for a moment it seemed as if bedlam had broken loose. Even Old Blind Rabbit was frightened, and he trembled so that Goggle Eyes was afraid he would fall down.

“What has Bumper done that you should want to drive him from the woods?” was all that Old Blind Rabbit could say.

“It’s not what he’s done,” roared White Tail, leaping to the top of a fallen tree. “It’s what he’s going to do. He’ll not be king of the woods!”

“NO! No!” shouted a hundred voices. “We’ll not be his slaves! We’ll not follow him!”

“Listen, friends!” Old Blind Rabbit called back. “You have been deceived. Spotted Tail has spread false rumors. He knew they were false, and he couldn’t get Rusty or Mr. Woodpecker or Towhee or any of the birds, who were his friends, to carry the message to you. Then when they all failed him he appealed to Shrike the Butcher Bird.”

He paused, and looked with his sightless eyes over the big assemble. Then, raising his voice, he continued: “Since when have you come to believe what Shrike tells! When has he ever spread anything but lies in the woods? He has no friends among the birds—”

Suddenly there was a commotion on the outskirts of the crowd. Shrike flew in their midst and whistled sharply. Then out of the bushes crashed Buster the Bear, followed by Mr. Fox. Screams and shouts went up from all sides as every rabbit scurried for cover. They ran pell-mell hither and thither, with Mr. Fox and Buster after them, laughing in their glee at the fright they had caused.

It was a miracle that some were not killed, for it hardly seemed there were enough hiding-places in the woods to conceal them. Old Blind Rabbit stumbled back in his burrow, and invited as many to follow him as the place would hold.

STORY XII SPOTTED TAIL RECEIVES HIS PUNISHMENT

Yes, it was certainly a miracle that there wasn’t a great slaughter of rabbits in the woods when Buster and Mr. Fox broke up the huge assemble! To this day they marvel at it. The only explanation the leaders could give was that Mr. Fox and Buster the Bear were more interested in frightening them than in killing. So they bowled over as many as they could, and didn’t stop to bite any of them.

What a crowded house Old Blind Rabbit had, though! Every rabbit who could squeeze through the doorway had followed him in the burrow. It was the most mixed audience ever gathered in one burrow.

There were followers of Pink Nose huddling alongside of Rolly Polly’s family, and Brindley the Lame was crowded next to White Tail. They were packed in so tight that it was difficult for any one to move.

Bumper was crowded way in back alongside Fuzzy Wuzz. Not understanding the great noise, Bumper had at first stood by the entrance to fight back any intruders that followed Old Blind Rabbit. He thought they were crowding in the burrow to get him.

But Goggle Eyes and Fuzzy Wuzz understood his mistake, and they took him by the paws and forced him to the back part of the burrow. “It’s Mr. Fox and Buster the Bear!” cried Fuzzy Wuzz in his ears.

Bumper understood immediately, and his wrath turned to kindness. He helped to make room for all the strangers that came pell-mell in the burrow. The excitement didn’t quiet down at once. Shivering with terror at their narrow escape, every one squealed, and tried to talk at once.

There was danger of the little ones being trampled upon and hurt until the leaders began to get their senses back. “Stop crowding!” shouted White Tail. “We’re safe in here! Now every one keep quiet while we think.”

It was so quiet that one could almost hear their thoughts, but they were so confused that it wouldn’t have done much good. No one could have made head or tail out of them. It was Old Blind Rabbit who first got over his scare, and came to his senses.

“How many are here?” he asked, turning to the others for an answer to his question.

“So many we can’t count them,” replied Goggle Eyes. “My, I was never in such a crowd before in all my life!”

“Is White Tail here?” continued Old Blind Rabbit.

“Yes, I squeezed in at the last minute, and lost a handful of fur in doing it.”

“And Pink Nose?”

“Here!” came the answer from a corner.

“And Brindley the Lame?” continued Old Blind Rabbit, as if calling the roll of all his friends.

“Here!”

“Rolly Polly?”

“Here!”

“Crooked Ears?”

“Here!”

Old Blind Rabbit stopped for a moment.

“Now, as there is no danger of further interruption by Mr. Fox or Buster,” he added finally, “we might proceed with our business. We were talking about Shrike the Butcher Bird when we were interrupted. I asked you then when had Shrike carried other than lies and evil news.”

“Never!” shouted some one, and others started up with various cries. “He deceived us! He summoned Mr. Fox and Buster the Bear to kill us! I shall never believe him again!”

A faint smile spread over Old Blind Rabbit’s face.

“Then, if that’s true,” he continued, “how can you believe the rumors he spread in the woods about Bumper the White Rabbit? Were they not lies too?”

This question caused a sudden sensation. No one had quite thought of this. If Shrike had betrayed them to Mr. Fox and Buster, why could it not be true that the whole story was part of a trick made up by him?

“But Spotted Tail sent the news by him,” said White Tail suddenly.

“Shrike said so, but did you see Spotted Tail himself?” asked Old Blind Rabbit.

“Why, no, I didn’t see him,” replied White Tail.

“Nor I! Nor I!” spoke up Pink Nose, Rolly Polly, and all the others in turn.

“Then,” resumed Old Blind Rabbit, “how do we know that the whole story wasn’t invented by Shrike to stir up trouble?”

“That’s so,” laughed Brindley. “I never thought of that. But where’s Spotted Tail? Let him speak for himself.”

This was just the thing that Spotted Tail, crouching and trembling in a corner, dreaded the most. He was so shaken and horrified by the result of his treachery that he had to be pushed forward when they called him.

“Tell us the truth, Spotted Tail,” said Old Blind Rabbit severely. “You’re on trial now.”

There is some good even in the worst of us, and although Spotted Tail had done many wicked things, he still possessed a sense of honor. He could have lied out of it, and declared his innocence, for no one had direct evidence that he had started the wicked stories, except the birds. Yes, he could easily have cleared his skirts by declaring that Shrike had made up the whole story, and that he knew nothing of it.

But he was frightened and repentant. He was no longer defiant. He looked so humiliated that some of the gentler rabbits pitied him.

“I’ll tell the truth,” he stammered finally. “I did start the story, and ask Shrike to spread it. I was jealous of Bumper, and wanted to have him driven from the woods. I am sorry now, but that won’t help what’s happened.”

“No,” replied Old Blind Rabbit severely, “after the milk is spilt it does no good to cry over it. You betrayed your own people, and nearly caused the death of many of them. Now what punishment do you think you deserve?”

Spotted Tail hung his head in fear and humiliation.

“There is only one punishment to suit the case,” Old Blind Rabbit said after a pause, “and that is to be banished from the woods. Never again can you speak to any of your people, nor shall they speak to you. Go, Spotted Tail, go, and never return! Is that not a just punishment?”

“Yes! Yes!” cried many, and the leaders of the burrows shook their heads in assent.

But before he could retire from the burrow in shame and disgrace, Bumper hopped from his corner, and faced the assembly.

“One minute, Old Blind Rabbit,” he said. “Let me speak a word for Spotted Tail. His sinning was against me most, and I should be heard. He is repentant now, and we should give him another chance. I ask you to take back that sentence.”

Old Blind Rabbit looked hard and severe, as he shook his head. “Sentence has been passed,” he said sternly, “and justice demands that Spotted Tail be banished from the woods.”

“But justice tempered with mercy is what I’m asking for,” replied Bumper.

Again Old Blind Rabbit shook his head, and White Tail, Crooked Ears and the others agreed with him.

“Then,” resumed Bumper sadly, “I shall go with him. If you banish Spotted Tail from the woods you banish me too.”

The consternation that followed this remark was so great you could have heard a pin drop. Every one was looking at the white rabbit, and, as if fascinated by his pink eyes and white fur, they remained mute and awed. Finally Old Blind Rabbit, seeing his opportunity, said: “What the king says must be obeyed!”

“Yes, what the king says must be obeyed!” cried many as if they were hypnotized, and even White Tail and the other leaders offered no opposition.

“Long live Bumper the White Rabbit as our king!” quavered Old Blind Rabbit, his voice cracking.

And every one took up the cry. “Long live Bumper the White Rabbit as our king!”

STORY XIII BUMPER WINS SPOTTED TAIL’S FRIENDSHIP

So Bumper became king of all the rabbits in the woods, and all his people vowed they would stand loyally by him, and the big leaders—White Tail, Pink Nose, Crooked Ears, Brindley the Lame and Rolly Polly—promised to obey him, and teach their children and their children’s children to love and follow him.

“A king who is merciful to those who hurt him is a good and wise king,” said White Tail, as he came forward to pay homage.

“Wisdom is greater than courage,” said Brindley, “but greater than either is mercy.”

“I believed pink noses were the signs of royalty in rabbits,” remarked Pink Nose, when his turn came next, “but pink eyes are more to be desired, and I shall teach my children the truth of this.”

“Surely,” said Rolly Polly, his eyes twinkling, “this is a great day for the rabbits of the North Woods, and anything I can say will never be remembered. But I hope my next dinner will disagree with me if I ever speak an ill word of our king.”

Brindley was smiling and chuckling too, when he walked up. The sudden happy turn of affairs was much to his liking. “O Bumper, our white king!” he exclaimed. “The winter’s snow is not whiter than your coat, and your soul is whiter than either. May neither ever fade or grow tarnished in the use.”

Crooked Ears, who had come to the assembly with a grouch, which he intended to vent upon Bumper, stood hesitating a moment before he bowed and took the king’s paw. Then he looked up and smiled. “Ears, O Bumper, are given to hear, and whether they are crooked or straight they should gather in the truth and not the lies. Mine have heard the truth to-day, and may they grow more crooked if they ever listen to the untruth again.”

Now, when the leaders had finished swearing their allegiance to Bumper, the others crowded forward, and for half an hour poor Bumper had a hard time of it. They wanted to shake his paw and feel of his soft fur, and gaze into his pink eyes, until it seemed as if their curiosity would never be satisfied. And Bumper was in more danger of being spoilt by flattery than ever before in his life! From a secret corner Fuzzy Wuzz watched him through her mild brown eyes, and at times she frowned. If her eyes could have spoken they would have said something like this: “Can he stand all that flattery and admiration? I’m afraid for him.”

But Bumper did stand it, for when the visitors began to leave, one by one, and the burrow became emptied once more, he drew a heavy sigh of relief. He turned to Fuzzy Wuzz, who was still watching him, and said:

“It’s been an exciting day, Fuzzy Wuzz, hasn’t it? And I for one am glad it’s over, but gladder because all’s ended well. There’ll be no more trouble in the woods among our own people.”

Not a word about the remarkable tribute to his looks and wisdom, or anything about the high position they had placed him in. He was still plain Bumper when with his own family.

“O Bumper,” exclaimed Fuzzy Wuzz, “I was so afraid—afraid—”

“Afraid! Afraid of what, Fuzzy Wuzz?” he asked in surprise when she stopped.

Instead of answering directly, she laughed, and said:

“Oh, nothing! I meant I’m so happy!”

“Then I am too. Whatever makes you happy I like.”

But while he smiled into her meek brown eyes, he happened to catch a glimpse of Spotted Tail crouching in a corner, looking so miserable and forlorn that his heart smote him.

He left Fuzzy Wuzz, and hopped directly over to him. “Spotted Tail,” he said, “will you be my friend?”

A look of surprise and wonder came into the sad eyes of the other, and for a moment he could not understand just what Bumper was asking.

“I don’t understand,” he stammered in confusion. “Oh, you mean will I promise never to betray you again? Yes, yes, I promise that, Bumper—promise never to speak ill of you again.”

“I didn’t mean that,” replied Bumper. “I asked if you would be my friend. You know what friendship means?—trust, faith, loyalty, and all that?”