Part 5

“Yes, I trust you,” stammered Spotted Tail. “How could it be otherwise after what you’ve done for me? And faith, yes, I have faith in you. I believe you’re a just and upright leader. As for loyalty, Bumper, you can ask for my life, and I’ll give it to you.”

Bumper smiled happily at these declarations of friendship, but still Spotted Tail hadn’t quite understood his meaning. How to make him believe that he forgave everything, and wanted to be his friend, troubled him.

“Come with me, Spotted Tail,” he said finally, extending a paw. “I want every one to see that we have forgiven and forgotten, and that we’re friends now.”

Then, to Spotted Tail’s surprise, Bumper led him up to Fuzzy Wuzz, and said: “Spotted Tail and I have made up all of our differences, and are going to be fast friends hereafter. Congratulate both of us, Fuzzy Wuzz.”

Fuzzy Wuzz was as wise and quick as she was good. She understood immediately, and, extending a paw, grasped one of Spotted Tail’s. “Let the past be as if it never were, Spotted Tail,” she said sweetly. “Bumper’s friends are my friends, and that makes us friends, doesn’t it?”

Spotted Tail nodded in embarrassment. He was so stupefied with surprise that he hardly knew what to say. Then to Goggle Eyes and the others, Bumper took him in turn, and gave them to understand that anything they said against Spotted Tail they would be saying against him.

The Old Blind Rabbit was the last one they came to. Bumper repeated his words, but remained a little uncertain just how the stern old leader would accept the change. Old Blind Rabbit had a stern sense of justice, and this sudden forgiveness of Spotted Tail might not suit him. But finally a kindly smile spread over his face, and he laid a paw on the breast of each.

“I have lived to see justice interpreted, O Bumper,” he said. “There will be joy in all the North Woods now that we have a king who is as merciful as he is wise and just. May Spotted Tail learn wisdom from you. The past is forgotten. We live now only for the future.”

And when they had retired to a corner from the rest, Spotted Tail found his voice. It was low and husky.

“O Bumper, you have heaped coals of fire on my head!” he exclaimed. “You have made me ashamed of myself. I wronged you because I was envious and jealous of your power. I told Shrike to spread the news that you were a king come to make all the rabbits in the North Woods your slaves. Now they’re all your friends. But you have one slave. I, Bumper, am your slave. Ask anything of me, and I will do it.”

“Then I ask one thing, Spotted Tail,” was the reply, “and you’ve promised to grant it.”

“Yes, I have promised, not knowing what it is.”

“It is very simple, Spotted Tail. Never let me hear you call yourself my slave again. Instead, speak of me as your friend, and if you wish to gain my favors call yourself my friend. Is that too much to promise?”

“It’s not enough, O Bumper. But as you say. I’m your friend—now and forevermore. You believe me?”

“Yes, I know you speak the truth.”

STORY XIV SPOTTED TAIL PROVES HIS LOYALTY

Old Blind Rabbit was so pleased with the result of the revolt, and especially with Bumper’s forgiveness of Spotted Tail, that he immediately proclaimed a great feast to celebrate it. All the younger rabbits were sent forth in the woods to gather food for the banquet, and they came back laden with the most delicious roots and succulent leaves until their mouths watered. The burrow was piled high with them, as if it was being stocked against a ten-day siege by Mr. Fox and Buster the Bear.

“Now we will eat and be merry,” Old Blind Rabbit said when they were all gathered around the festive board. “May no more trouble come to my family or to any of the other rabbits of the woods!”

Bumper was called upon to make a speech, which he did, and Spotted Tail led the others in clapping his paws at the conclusion. While the excitement was running high, Old Blind Rabbit whispered in Bumper’s ear:

“When you make a friend of your enemy, you have made a friend indeed. Watch Spotted Tail’s enthusiasm.”

Bumper had already been watching him, and a little glow of pleasure was in his heart. Even greater than being made king, he thought, was the winning of Spotted Tail’s loyalty.

“All’s well that ends well,” he murmured.

Of course, Rusty the Blackbird might have doubted the genuineness of Spotted Tail’s friendship, and so would have Shrike the Butcher Bird, but that was because they didn’t understand the nature and habits of the rabbits as Bumper and Old Blind Rabbit did. They knew that Spotted Tail had changed, and all the envy and hatred had left his heart.

As if to prove this, something happened in the woods a few days later, which dispelled any doubts that either may have had. Bumper and Spotted Tail had gone off together in the thickest part of the woods when they came to an old gravel pit.

This was a deep hole in the ground which had nearly been covered up with thick weeds and briers. Bumper and Spotted Tail had been hopping along without thought of danger. Around and over the gravel pit a thick clump of bushes was growing.

“I think I can take that clump with a big hop,” Bumper remarked, preparing for a spring.

Spotted Tail glanced up to follow, and then shouted in alarm: “Don’t do it, Bumper! The gravel pit!”

Spotted Tail had recognized the danger if Bumper should fall short of his jump, but his warning was too late. Bumper had sprung into the air, and, just as Spotted Tail had feared, the tops of the bushes interfered with his leap. Instead of clearing the place, Bumper fell plump through the mass of weeds into the deep pit.

Down, down he went, scratching his face and body as he fell. Instead of landing on all four feet as he expected to do, he dropped heavily on one foot and wrenched his leg.

Spotted Tail heard his groans with alarm. What had happened to Bumper? He called aloud, and received only groans in reply.

Now perhaps it would have been wiser for Spotted Tail to have run back to the burrow, and summon help; but he was so worried over the result of the accident that only one thing occurred to him. He deliberately leaped into the gravel pit after Bumper. This required a good deal of courage, for he knew the danger. He recalled stories of how more than one rabbit in the past had been caught in this natural trap and held there for days and weeks until nearly famished.

When he landed by the side of Bumper at the bottom of the pit, he found the king huddled up in a heap, groaning with pain.

“What is it, Bumper?” he asked anxiously.

“I’ve broken my leg or sprained it,” was the reply. “And it pains so that even a king cannot help moaning.”

“Let me see it,” replied Spotted Tail.

For a long time Spotted Tail rubbed it, and tried to ease the pain. After a while it grew better, but it was still too lame for Bumper to stand much weight on it.

“How am I ever going to get out of this hole?” he asked, looking up. “I can’t jump out of it with this sprained leg.”

“No,” replied Spotted Tail. “No rabbit has ever yet been able to hop out of the gravel pit. I’m afraid we’re trapped here until the others find us.”

“Is it so bad as that?”

“Yes, and worse.”

Then Spotted Tail told him the stories of the gravel pit, and of the many times young rabbits had been caught there.

“It should have been filled in, then, before this,” said Bumper. “When I get home I’ll give orders to have it filled up.”

“That would be a good idea. But the important question now is, How are you going to get out?”

“How are you going to get out?” asked Bumper, smiling.

“That doesn’t matter so much if I can get you out.”

“You couldn’t jump to the top?”

“No, no rabbit could—not even you, Bumper.”

“And if we stay here we’ll starve?”

“Unless Mr. Fox happens to discover us, and eats us up. He’s big enough to scramble down here and out again.”

“It’s a pretty serious position we’re in, then,” mused Bumper.

“I have it!” Spotted Tail exclaimed suddenly. “See that bush fallen in the hole. The wind must have blown it in here. Now, I’ll climb on it, and then you climb on my back. I think by standing on my shoulders then you’ll be able to reach the top and scramble out.”

“But you? How’ll you get out?”

“Oh, I’ll manage it some way.”

This seemed like good advice, and Spotted Tail made his way cautiously to the highest part of the bush. Then Bumper followed him. Then he climbed up on Spotted Tail’s back, and stood on his shoulders.

“Now get ready when I raise myself up on my hind legs!” cautioned Spotted Tail. “You must jump and scramble up before the bush gives way.”

It was quite an acrobatic feat, but they balanced themselves skilfully until both stood upright on their haunches. “I can’t reach it!” exclaimed Bumper. “It’s a foot above my head!”

“Jump, then!” exclaimed Spotted Tail. “The bush is sagging down! Quick, Bumper, jump!”

And Bumper jumped, and scrambled up out of the pit. It was hard work with his sprained leg, but he reached the top. But Spotted Tail had fallen back to the bottom, and the bush after him. There was no way he could get out.

“I’ll run back to the burrow and get help!” Bumper said finally. “We’ll get you out somehow.”

But the only way they could get Spotted Tail out was to fill in the sand pit. Bumper hit on this idea after they had tried every other method. By filling it in Spotted Tail could gradually crawl up higher and higher until he hopped out.

And Bumper’s method of filling it in was very simple. All the rabbits turned their faces away from the sand pit and began digging hard with their hind legs, throwing the dirt and gravel in the pit until it was nearly on a level with the ground. So the dangerous sand pit was no longer a trap for the rabbits.

STORY XV BUMPER MAKES FUZZY WUZZ QUEEN

A king can’t really be happy without a queen. There was never a king yet that didn’t have one, or, if he lived alone and refused to take a queen, he was faithless to his people. If you want to find a grouchy king, look through history for one that never had a queen to advise and soothe him.

Bumper wasn’t thinking so much of doing a great honor to Fuzzy Wuzz in asking her to be his queen as he was of making himself happy. Fuzzy Wuzz had become very dear to him. She seemed to understand him, and they were both happy when they were together.

So one day, when he asked her to be his queen, and help him to preside over his people, she modestly consented. She thought as much of Bumper as he did of her. They made an ideal couple. But a king can’t marry without the consent of his people, and Bumper took up the question with Old Blind Rabbit first. He was very modest and uncertain about it, and you can imagine his nervousness.

“A king can marry, Old Blind Rabbit, and bring a queen home with him to reign by his side, can’t he?” he began.

Old Blind Rabbit showed a little surprise at this question, and after a while answered: “A queen, O Bumper, is generally selected by the people. She must be one that they all like.”

“Isn’t the king consulted?” asked Bumper.

“Not always. Of course, sometimes he is, but his choice must be the same as that of his people.”

“It seems to me, then,” remarked Bumper, “that a king must have a hard time selecting a queen.”

“He has, O Bumper, and that is one reason why a king isn’t always happy. He must think of his people first, and of his own happiness second.”

Bumper bowed meekly, and thought once more that being a king was not as agreeable as he had always thought.

“And if his queen is not the one the people choose,” he added, “what becomes of her and the king?”

“They’re often dethroned, O Bumper, driven away into exile!” There was a threat in the Old Blind Rabbit’s voice as he said this. His blind, sightless eyes seemed to go through Bumper and read his thoughts.

“You wish to select a queen?” continued Blind Rabbit.

Bumper said yes, and blushed the color of his eyes.

Old Blind Rabbit looked distressed. “You should not have thought of that,” he said severely, “without first consulting your people. I have already selected a queen for you!”

Bumper’s heart dropped. This blunt announcement took away all his happiness. Then a slow sense of anger and rebellion came into his mind. He wasn’t going to submit to any such dictation.

“And I have selected one for myself!” he replied, stubbornly.

“Then you must give her up, O Bumper! The queen the people select must be the one to reign with you.”

Bumper’s stubborn nature immediately came to the surface. Rather than give up Fuzzy Wuzz and take a queen that Old Blind Rabbit had chosen for him, he would abdicate his throne, and leave the woods. He said as much to Old Blind Rabbit, who was greatly distressed.

“Think well of your words, O Bumper!” he said. “If you disobey the rules of your people, they will banish you, and drive you into exile. A king cannot be above his people.”

“I told you that I would banish myself rather than submit to this,” was the stubborn reply. “I shall choose my own queen or have none. I must live with her, and not you.”

This outburst of defiance became a king, and in a good cause it would have received Old Blind Rabbit’s approval; but just now it ran against his wishes, and he saw nothing but rebellion in it. It was little short of treason.

“Even if you banish yourself,” Blind Rabbit added angrily, “it does not follow you will take your queen away with you. She would not follow you into the woods. She might consent to be your queen here, but not your wife in exile.”

“Leave that to me,” replied Bumper, confidently. “I know she will follow me wherever I go.” Then, smiling at a new thought, he added: “I can take her back to the garden where the red-headed girl lives. She would welcome us.”

“We may prevent that, O Bumper! We may decide to hold you prisoner. No, no, we can’t permit such treason. It’s against the laws of the woods.”

Now the argument was waxing strong, and both were getting very angry. Perhaps they would have parted as enemies if at that very moment Fuzzy Wuzz hadn’t entered the burrow. Old Blind Rabbit turned to her, and took one of her paws in his.

“Here is the queen the people have selected for you, O Bumper,” he said. “And no other will we have.”

For a moment Bumper stared at the couple in surprise. It seemed for a moment as if Old Blind Rabbit was playing a joke on him. Then it dawned suddenly upon his mind that they had each chosen the same one to be queen. He began to laugh so loudly and excitedly that Old Blind Rabbit felt mortified. Was Bumper making fun of Fuzzy Wuzz?

“This is very unbecoming to you, O Bumper,” he began, and then Bumper interrupted him.

“No, no, Blind Rabbit!” he protested. “It isn’t that. Don’t you see I’m laughing because I’m so happy? We have both been very foolish. We got in hot words for nothing. Now forgive me, and all will be well.”

“I don’t understand,” murmured Old Blind Rabbit.

“I don’t blame you,” interrupted Bumper. “But if you had eyes, and could see, you would understand. Fuzzy Wuzz is as happy as I am, and you could tell it by her eyes.”

Then solemnly, he added: “Old Blind Rabbit, the queen my people have selected is the one I chose. Fuzzy Wuzz is the one I meant to have, or none. Now do you understand?”

It really took Old Blind Rabbit some minutes to understand it fully, and then a gleam of happiness swept across his face. “O Bumper,” he exclaimed with emotion, “your reign will be a happy one, and a joy to my people. Long may the king live! And long may the queen live with him!”

He was so excited, and his voice was raised so high, that all the other rabbits came running in the burrow to see what the trouble was, and when they learned the news they set up a joyful squeal of approval. They would now have a queen of their own selection as well as a king.

This time Rusty the Black Bird, Piney the Purple Finch, Mr. Crested Flycatcher, and all the other birds of the woods agreed to carry the message to the rabbits of the different burrows. They flew with swift wings in all directions to announce the wedding of Bumper and Fuzzy Wuzz, inviting White Tail, Pink Nose, Crooked Ears, Brindley the Lame and all the others to the feast.

For days and days the woods rang with happy laughter and merry talk. Every one seemed to be happy. Even Mr. Fox and Buster the Bear were excited, for who could help it when so many others were looking forward to the crowning of Fuzzy Wuzz as queen?

And of their reign in the woods you will hear later in other stories, for they lived happily as king and queen for a good many years, and they had adventures which you might guess were more exciting than any you have yet heard. In the land of rabbits they speak of time as having begun in the reign of King Bumper and Queen Fuzzy Wuzz, and they had good reason to date their calendars from that year, as you will see later when you have heard more about them in the book entitled

“Bumper the White Rabbit and His Foes.”

WASHER THE RACCOON

STORY ONE

WASHER’S FIRST ADVENTURE

Washer was the youngest of a family of three Raccoons, born in the woods close to the shores of Beaver Pond, and not half a mile from Rocky Falls where the water, as you know, turns into silvery spray that sparkles in the sunshine like diamonds and rubies. And, indeed, the animals and birds of the North Woods much prefer this glittering spray and foam that rise in a steady cloud from the bottom of the falls to all the jewels and gems ever dug out of the earth! For, though each drop sparkles but a moment, and then vanishes from sight, there are a million others to follow it, and when you bathe in them they wash and scour away the dirt, and make you clean and fresh in body and soul.

Washer had his first great adventure at Rocky Falls, and it is a wonder that he ever lived to tell the tale, for the water which flows over the falls is almost as cruel and terrible as it is sparkling and inviting. But

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WASHER THE RACCOON

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BUSTER THE BIG BROWN BEAR

STORY I

WHEN BUSTER WAS A CUB

In the North Woods where Buster was born, a wide river tinkles merrily over stones that are so white you’d mistake them for snowballs, if you were not careful, and begin pelting each other with them. The birches hanging over the water look like white sticks of peppermint candy, except in the spring of the year when they blossom out in green leaves, and then they make you think of fairyland where everything is painted the colors of the rainbow.

The rocks that slope up from the bank of the river are dented and broken as if some giant in the past had smashed them with his hammer, cracking some and punching deep holes in others. It was in one of these holes, or caves, that Buster was born.

He didn’t mind the hard rocky floor of his bed a bit, nor did he mind the darkness, nor the cold winds that swept through the open doorway. He was so well protected by his

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BUSTER THE BIG BROWN BEAR’S ADVENTURES

STORY I

BUSTER VISITS HIS BIRTHPLACE

Buster’s return to the North Woods, after his many travels in different parts of the country as a trick bear in a circus, was an important event to him. He had been away so long—ever since he was a little cub—that nothing seemed familiar to him. His recollection of the river that flowed in front of the cave where he had been born was very dim and uncertain, and he was not sure which way to go when he had crossed it.

Browny the Woodchuck had informed him that he was in the North Woods when he waded up on shore, but Browny had an important engagement with his family, and immediately left him. Happy and excited that he was now free in the woods, and no longer in danger of being pursued and captured, Buster for a time was satisfied in roaming around in the bushes, eating the wild fruit and berries.

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WHITE TAIL THE DEER

STORY I

WHITE TAIL’S FIRST LESSON

High among the timberland of the North Woods White Tail the Deer was born, and if you had stumbled upon his home in the thickets you would have been surprised by a noise like the rushing of the wind, and then by a very remarkable silence that could almost be felt. The first was made by Mother White Tail as she deserted her young and took to quick flight.

White Tail, crouching low down in the bushes, so still that he scarcely moved a hair, would hide his beautiful head in the branches and leaves like an obedient child. Left alone he knew that his one chance of escape was not to move or whimper or cry.

That was the first lesson White Tail was taught by his mother—to keep absolutely quiet in the presence of danger. When he was so small that he could hardly hold up his head, she whispered to him: “Listen, White Tail! When I give the signal that the hunters are coming, you must flatten yourself down

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WHITE TAIL’S ADVENTURES

STORY I

WHITE TAIL JUMPS STEPPING STONE BROOK

White Tail grew rapidly in size and strength, his long, clean limbs showing taut muscles and great springing power; and his neck grew thick and short, which is well for a buck, who must use it in savage thrusts when the head is a battering ram. His horns were short and bony, but they protruded in front like knobs against which it would be unpleasant to fall.

But his antlers were his pride. They spread out fan-shape on his head, crowning it with a glory that made Mother Deer supremely happy. At times it seemed as if the antlers were too heavy for the head and neck, but White Tail carried them easily, and when he shook them in sport or anger any one could see they were just fitted to him.

In time he stood as high as Father Buck, and a head taller than Mother Deer. The day the tip of his antlers reached an inch above Father Buck’s, he felt a little thrill of pride.

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BOBBY GRAY SQUIRREL

BOBBY’S INTRODUCTION

There are many squirrels living in the North Woods, but only one real Bobby Gray Squirrel, and if you saw him once you would never mistake him for any other. Bobby was a gay, rollicking happy-go-lucky fellow, who believed in enjoying himself to-day and letting the morrow take care of itself. He wasn’t exactly lazy, but he didn’t believe in doing work that wasn’t actually necessary, and sometimes, I’m afraid, he forgot to do what was really necessary.

Bobby had many friends in the woods, and they all liked him and smiled at him, but there were some who thought his careless ways might get him in trouble some day. So instead of chattering pleasantly with him, they shook their heads and preached to him.

“Why don’t you get busy these pleasant days, Bobby, and store up food for the winter?” Gray Back the Weasel asked reprovingly one bright, sunny day.

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BOBBY GRAY SQUIRREL’S ADVENTURES

STORY I

AN ADVENTURE WITH DASHER THE HAWK

When Bobby Gray Squirrel left the deserted house where he had spent the winter with Stripe the Chipmunk and Web the Flying Squirrel, not to mention White Foot the Deer Mouse, he was in a very serious mood, and his first thought was to go right to work to build a home for himself in some friendly tree, and stock it early with nuts for winter use.