Chapter 5

"Little Mr. Mouse tried his best to think of some excuse, but he couldn't. So he made a long jump, and the usual thing happened--he turned two or three somersaults and landed on his back. Old Mother Nature looked astonished. Then she laughed until she had to hold her sides. 'Do it again,' she commanded.

"With the most shamefaced air that you can imagine, little Mr. Mouse jumped again. Old Mother Nature watched him closely. 'Come here to me,' said she as he scrambled to his feet after his tumble. 'It's all my fault,' said she kindly, as he obeyed her. 'It was very stupid of me. What you need is a long tail to balance you on a long jump. That short tail is all right for short jumps, but it won't do for long jumps. It won't do at all. I should have thought of that when I made your legs long.'

"She reached down and took hold of the tip of that little short tail and drew it out until it was long, almost twice as long as the body of little Mr. Mouse. 'Now jump,' she commanded, 'and jump with all your might.'

"A little fearfully but with the beginning of a little hope Mr. Mouse jumped with all his might. Away he sailed straight and true and landed lightly on his feet so far from where he had left the ground that he could hardly believe his own eyes as he looked back. Mother Nature was smiling.

"'There you are, Mr. Limberheels. I guess that that will make you quite the most wonderful jumper of all my children,' said she.

"And so it was that little Mr. Mouse, all at one time, became possessed of a long tail, a name, and the ability to out jump all his neighbors," concluded Danny Meadow Mouse. "Do you know," he added wistfully, "sometimes I envy my cousin Limberheels."

"I envy him myself," declared Peter.

XI

WHERE OLD MR. GOBBLER GOT THE STRUTTING HABIT

Peter Rabbit never will forget the first time he saw Big Tom Gobbler. It was very early one spring morning, when Peter was not yet old enough to have made the acquaintance of all the people who live in the Green Forest, and when it seemed as if the chief thing in life with him was to satisfy his curiosity about the ways of the Great World. Several times when he had been hopping along, lipperty-lipperty-lip, through the Green Forest just after sun-up, he had heard a strange sound quite unlike any other of all the many sounds his long ears had learned to know. He knew that it was the voice of some one who lived in the Green Forest, but though he had looked and looked he had been unable to discover the owner of that voice.

On this particular morning Peter happened to be sitting under some ferns on the edge of a little open space among the trees when again he heard that strange voice. It seemed to come from somewhere back in the woods in the very direction from which he had just come. "Gobble-obble-obble!" said the voice, and again a moment later "Gobble-obble-obble!"

Peter was just preparing to go back to see if he could find the owner of that voice when the noise of great wings caused him to look up just in time to see a bigger bird than he ever had even dreamed of coming swiftly over the tree-tops. With his eyes popping out and his mouth wide open with astonishment, Peter saw the great bird set its wings and sail down into the little opening on the edge of which Peter was sitting. The instant this great bird was on the ground, he stood as still as if he were made of stone, his long neck stretched up. Only the shine of a pair of the sharpest eyes Peter ever had seen showed that he was alive.

Peter held his breath, and it was so still that you could have heard a leaf drop had you been there. When at last the stranger moved, it was his head only. He turned it suddenly to the right and a moment later to the left. It was plain that he was listening for suspicious sounds. All the time his bright eyes searched the edge of the opening until Peter, although he was well hidden, felt that he must be seen. At last, satisfied that all was safe, the stranger drew in his neck and began to walk about, pecking at the ground here and there and swallowing what he picked up, though what it was Peter couldn't tell.

A sound seemed to catch the stranger's quick ears, for he stopped and stared very hard at a little clump of brush. Peter stared at it too. At first he saw nothing, but presently he saw a head poked out, and this also was a stranger. Peter glanced at the big stranger in the opening, and for a minute he wondered if it could be that something was wrong with his eyes. Never had he seen such a change in anybody. This stranger didn't look like the same bird at all. He was swelled up until Peter was afraid he would burst. His tail was spread out like a great fan. His head was laid back on his humped shoulders. His wings were dropped until the stiffly spread feathers brushed the ground. His head and neck were as red as blood, and there were no feathers on either. All the feathers of his body were ruffed out so that the sun shone on them and made them shimmer and shine in colors that seemed to constantly change.

Back and forth in front of the brush from which the other stranger was peeping very shyly this great bird strutted. He would stand still so that the sun would fall full on his shining coat and show it off to the best advantage, and at the same time he would draw in a great deal of air and then puff it out all at once. Then he would walk a few steps, turn, drag his wings on the ground to make them rustle, wheel, and run a few steps. Never had Peter seen such vanity, such conceit, such imposing, puffed-up pride. He watched until he grew tired, and then he stole away and hurried over to the Smiling Pool to tell Grandfather Frog all about it and ask who these strangers were.

"Chug-a-rum!" exclaimed Grandfather Frog, opening his big mouth very wide to laugh at Peter and his excitement. "That was Big Tom Gobbler, and he was doing all that for the benefit of Mrs. Gobbler, who was hiding in that brush. It was her head you saw. Big Tom is the most conceited fellow in the Green Forest. He dearly loves to strut. He is just like his father and his grandfather and his great-grandfather. The Gobblers never have gotten over strutting since Old Mr. Gobbler, the first of the family, got the habit."

"Tell me about it. Please, Grandfather Frog, tell me about it," begged Peter. "How did Old Mr. Gobbler get the habit?"

Grandfather Frog chuckled. "He got it from admiring his own reflection in a pool of water," said he. "You see, in those days way back when the world was young, people had more time to form habits than they do now. With plenty to eat and little to do, they had more time to think about themselves than they do now. Old Mr. Gobbler soon discovered that he was the biggest of all the birds in that part of the Great World where he lived, and this discovery was, I suspect, the beginning of his vanity. Then one day as he was walking along, he came to a little pool of water. It was very clear, and there wasn't a ripple on the surface. There for the first time Mr. Gobbler saw his reflection. The more he looked, the better he liked his own appearance. He spread his tail just to see how it would look in the water. Then he puffed himself out and strutted.

"'There is nobody to compare with me,' thought he, and strutted more than ever.

"After that he used to steal away every day to admire himself in that little pool of water. He tried new ways of strutting and of puffing himself out. After a while he was no longer content to admire himself. He wanted others to admire him. So the first chance he got he began to strut and show off all his grand airs before Mrs. Gobbler. At first she paid no attention to him. At least that is the way she appeared. She would turn her back on him and walk off into the bushes. This made Old Mr. Gobbler very angry until he discovered that she would tiptoe back and watch him admiringly when she thought he didn't know it. That made him strut all the more.

"At first all the neighbors used to gather around and admire him and tell him how handsome he was until his head was quite turned, as the saying is, and he spent most of his time strutting and showing off. Then he took to bragging and boasting that there was no bird to compare with him. Thus he became quite unbearable, and all his neighbors would turn their backs on him when they saw him coming. Only Mrs. Gobbler continued to watch in secret and to admire him.

"Now in those days Mr. Gobbler didn't have a red head and neck. One day Old Mother Nature happened along when Mr. Gobbler was strutting and boasting how big and brave he was. He didn't see her, and she watched him quietly for a few minutes. Then she slipped away and hunted up Mr. Wolf.

"'I want you to steal over where Mr. Gobbler is strutting,' said she, 'and suddenly spring out at him as if you intended to catch him.'

"Mr. Wolf grinned and trotted off to do her bidding. He found Mr. Gobbler swelled up until he looked as if he must burst, and bragging to Mrs. Gobbler.

"'I'm the biggest of all the birds,' bragged Mr. Gobbler. 'I'm afraid of no one. While you have me with you, my dear, you have nothing in all the Great World to fear.'

"Just then out sprang Mr. Wolf with all his long, sharp teeth showing. Mr. Gobbler gave a yelp of fright. He lost his swelled-up appearance as suddenly as a bubble flattens out when it is pricked. With a frantic beating of his wings he took to the air. Being in such a fright, he didn't see where he was going, and struck his head against a sharp twig, which tore the skin, for there were no feathers to protect it, and made it bleed. The blood ran all over his head and down his neck, though he really was hardly hurt at all. From the top of a tall tree he looked down. There stood Old Mother Nature, looking up at him.

"'Mr. Gobbler,' said she, 'you have acquired a bad habit, a very bad habit. Hereafter, whenever you become vain and strut, your head and neck shall become as red as they now are, as a reminder to you and all who see you of how silly it is to be vain and boastful.'

"And so it was. And so it is with Big Tom Gobbler to this day. There is nothing in the world more foolish than vanity," concluded Grandfather Frog.

XII

WHERE SEEK-SEEK GOT HIS PRETTY COAT

Peter Rabbit never will forget the first time he saw Seek-Seek the Ground Squirrel, often wrongly called Gopher or Gopher Squirrel, but whose real name is Spermophile, which means seed eater. Peter won't forget that meeting, because of the funny mistake he made and the foolish feeling he had as a result of it. You see, Peter didn't know that there was such a person as Seek-Seek. He was hopping along across the Green Meadows in his usual happy-go-lucky way when, right in front of him, he saw what at first he took to be a stake, a small stake, driven in the ground. But as he drew nearer, it suddenly moved. It wasn't a stake at all, but a very lively small person in a striped coat who had been sitting up very straight and motionless.

"Hello, Striped Chipmunk! What are you doing way out here so far from the old stone wall?" exclaimed Peter.

The small person in the striped coat whirled and faced Peter with snapping eyes. "Don't call me Striped Chipmunk, and don't call me Gopher!" said he very fiercely for so small a person. "I am neither one. I am Seek-Seek the Ground Squirrel, and I'll thank you to call me by my own name. I am getting everlastingly tired of being called the names of other people."

Peter looked very foolish. "I beg your pardon," said he. "I do indeed. I'm sorry. Perhaps you don't know it, but you look very much like Striped Chipmunk, who is one of my best friends. You look so much like him that I thought you must be him. I wonder if you are related to him."

"Certainly I'm related to him, or he is related to me, whichever way you please to put it," snapped Seek-Seek. "We are cousins. But he is a Rock Squirrel, and I am a Ground Squirrel which is altogether different. You don't find me where there are rocks and stones in the way if I know it. Besides, if you used your eyes, you would see that we are not dressed alike either. Just because we both happen to wear stripes is no reason why we should be mistaken for each other."

Peter looked at Seek-Seek more closely than he had, and at once he made a discovery. "Why!" he exclaimed, "your coat has more stripes than Striped Chipmunk's has, hasn't it?"

"I should hope so," retorted Seek-Seek.

"And it has little rows of spots, too!" cried Peter. "If I had noticed those spots at first, I wouldn't have made such a foolish mistake. I do believe that your coat is prettier than Striped Chipmunk's, and I had thought his as pretty as a coat can be."

Seek-Seek looked rather pleased, though he tried not to. "Huh!" he sniffed. "Of course it's prettier. It took you a long time to find it out. I wouldn't trade coats with Striped Chipmunk or anybody else of my acquaintance."

"Neither would I if I were in your place," declared Peter. "I wish Old Mother Nature had given me a coat like that." He said this so wistfully that Seek-Seek, who had started to laugh, turned his head so that Peter might not know it. "I'm afraid it wouldn't look so well on one as big as you," he replied. "Anyway, you wouldn't be able to hide from your enemies as you can now."

"That's so," said Peter thoughtfully. "I would be easily seen in a coat like that, for a fact. I hadn't thought of that. I guess Old Mother Nature knows best. I--I wonder how she ever happened to think of a coat like yours."

Seek-Seek chuckled. He had quite forgotten that he had felt offended because Peter had mistaken him for his cousin, Striped Chipmunk. He enjoyed Peter's admiration of his coat. He is naturally rather talkative, and like most folks he enjoyed talking about himself.

"This coat," said he, "has been in the family a very great while. Of course, I don't mean this particular coat that I am wearing," he hastened to add, as he saw Peter beginning to grin. "I mean this style of coat has been in the family a very long time. My father was dressed just as I am. So was his father and--"

"I know," interrupted Peter. "You were going to say that so were all your grandfathers way back to the days when the world was young, and Old Mother Nature made the very first one of your family. It's funny to me that all the interesting things happened such a long time ago. Now wasn't that what you were going to say?"

Seek-Seek admitted that it was, and looked a little disappointed that Peter had guessed it. But a second later he felt better when Peter asked him very politely but very earnestly for the story of how the first Ground Squirrel got such a pretty coat. "There is a story. I know there is a story," declared Peter. "Won't you tell it to me please, Seek-Seek?"

Now Peter didn't want to hear it any more than Seek-Seek wanted to tell it, so while Peter squatted down comfortably, Seek-Seek sat up very straight and began the story.

"First of all, you must know that Seek-Seek is an old family name which has been handed down just as the pattern of my coat has been. The very first of all my great-great-grandfathers was called Seek-Seek. When Old Mother Nature made Seek-Seek she must have had two families in mind at one time, the Marmot family and the Squirrel family, for she made him a little like each, so that in his looks he sort of fitted in between the two. Mother Nature told him that he was a member of the Squirrel family and set him free to find a place for himself in the Great World.

"Now it didn't take Grandfather Seek-Seek long to find out that though he might be a member of the Squirrel family, Old Mother Nature had failed to furnish him with the right kind of claws for climbing trees, as most of his cousins did. True, he could climb a little, but it was not easy, and he felt anything but comfortable off the ground. But if those claws were of little use for climbing they were splendid tools for digging, just as are the claws of the Marmot family. So Old Mother Nature must have been thinking of the Marmots when she fashioned those claws.

"At first Seek-Seek wandered about trying to find a place for himself in the Great World. Being a Squirrel, he tried to live as did his cousins, Mr. Red Squirrel and Mr. Gray Squirrel, but on account of those claws he didn't make much of a success of it. Then one day he met Mr. Chipmunk. They stopped and stared at each other in surprise because, you know, their coats were so much alike. At that time Seek-Seek was wearing plain stripes, just as Striped Chipmunk does to this day.

"'What do you mean by stealing my coat?' demanded Mr. Chipmunk angrily.

"'I was just about to ask you the same question,' retorted Seek-Seek.

"Mr. Chipmunk had a sharp reply right on the tip of his tongue, but he checked it just in time. 'What's the use of quarreling over something neither of us had anything to do with?' said he. 'It must be that we are cousins. Where do you live?'

"Seek-Seek explained that he didn't live anywhere in particular but was trying to find his place in the Great World. He told how he had tried to live like the other Squirrels and failed. 'I know! I know all about it,' interrupted Mr. Chipmunk. 'I've been all through it. The place for us is on the ground or at least close to it. Come see how I live.'

"So Seek-Seek went with Mr. Chipmunk and saw how he lived among the rocks and stones. For a time he tried living there too, but he didn't like the rocks and stones much better than he did the trees. Besides, all the neighbors were forever mistaking him for Mr. Chipmunk because they looked so much alike, and he didn't like this. One day he wandered out on the Green Meadows. It was very lovely out there among the grasses and flowers. He wandered farther and farther, and the farther he wandered the better he liked it. By and by he came to the home of Yap-Yap the Prairie Dog, who is one of the Marmot family, as you know.

"'A home like that would suit me,' thought Grandfather Seek-Seek wistfully, as he journeyed on. 'I wonder if I could dig one. I believe I'll try.'

"So when he found a place to suit him he began to dig. There were no stones to hurt his feet and dull his nails, and he actually enjoyed digging. So he dug and dug until he had a wonderful underground home. All about were plenty of seeds and tender grasses to eat, and he was happy. He had found his place in the Great World. Then one day along came Old Mother Nature. 'Hello, Mr. Chipmunk,' she exclaimed, as she caught sight of his striped coat, 'what are you doing way out here?'

"Then she discovered her mistake. 'Dear me,' said she, 'this will never do at all. If I can't tell my own children apart, how can I expect others to? Your coat is altogether too much like that of Mr. Chipmunk. I must change it. I certainly must change it.'

"She leaned over and lightly tapped Seek-Seek right down the length of the broadest brown stripe of his coat. Wherever her finger touched a little spot of yellow was left. Then she did the same thing to each of the other brown stripes. When she had finished Grandfather Seek-Seek had a coat exactly like the one I am now wearing, and his cup of happiness was filled to the brim. From that day on he never was mistaken for Mr. Chipmunk or any one else. That's the story of my coat, and now I must get busy collecting seeds for my storehouse," concluded Seek-Seek. "Come and see me again, Peter Rabbit."

"I will," replied Peter, as he started for the dear Old Briar-patch to tell Mrs. Peter all about Seek-Seek and his pretty coat.

XIII

WHERE OLD MR. OSPREY LEARNED TO FISH

Peter Rabbit had seen a very strange thing. It was strange to Peter, anyway. It gave him something to think about, and this, I am sure you will agree, was a most excellent thing, for it kept him out of mischief for a while. He had been over to the Smiling Pool for a call on Jerry Muskrat and had just started back for the dear Old Briar-patch when he chanced to look over in the direction of the Big River. Coming straight towards him, but high in the air, was a big bird, a bird with broad wings. Peter didn't have to look twice to know that it was a member of the Hawk family. At first he thought it was Redtail. Then he caught a flash of white, and he thought it was Whitetail the Marsh Hawk, in spite of the fact that it didn't fly like him. Peter didn't stop to think of that. It was enough for him that a member of the Hawk family was headed that way, and he didn't care a twitch of his funny little tail which member it was. He felt that the stomach of one was quite as undesirable a place for Peter Rabbit as the stomach of another, and he had no intention of filling any if he could help it.

He remembered that there was an old house of Johnny Chuck's under the Big Hickory-tree on the bank of the Smiling Pool, and he wasted no time in getting there, lipperty-lipperty-lip, as fast as he could go. He would stay there until the way was clear to get home to the dear Old Briar-patch. As soon as he was safe in the old house of Johnny Chuck, he turned and poked his head out of the doorway. He wanted to see if any one would be caught. He hoped not, but if any one was caught, he wanted to see. You know Peter never misses anything if he can help it. On came Mr. Hawk, and when he was right over the Smiling Pool, he turned and made a short circle high in the air. Then Peter saw that he had a white waist-coat and was a stranger.

"I wonder who he is?" thought Peter, staring very hard. "He's bigger than either Redtail or Whitetail. I hope he isn't going to make his home here, because we have trouble enough as it is."

Suddenly Mr. Hawk paused high up in the air, then closed his wings and shot straight down like an arrow. Plunge! Peter couldn't believe his own eyes. Mr. Hawk actually had disappeared in the Smiling Pool! A second later there was a great splashing, and out of the water rose Mr. Hawk, flapping his great wings heavily, scattering spray in all directions. Up, up he went, and then Peter saw that in his great claws was a fish. Peter watched him fly away with the fish, and when he felt that it was quite safe to do so, he came out. Over on the end of an old log among the bulrushes sat Jerry Muskrat just where Peter had left him. It was very plain that Jerry hadn't been the least bit frightened by Mr. Hawk. Peter couldn't understand it. His eyes fairly popped out of his head with excitement and curiosity.

"Who was that?" he asked eagerly.

"That? Why, that was Plunger the Osprey, though some people call him Fish Hawk," replied Jerry. "I thought everybody knew him. Why did you run away, Peter? He wouldn't hurt you."

"Huh! I wouldn't trust _any_ Hawk!" snapped Peter.

"Which goes to show how little you know!" retorted Jerry Muskrat. "Plunger never bothers anybody but the fish, but he surely is a terror to them. Old Mother Nature knew what she was doing when she made fishermen out of that family, didn't she?"

"She certainly did, though I've never heard how she came to do it. How did it happen, Jerry?" Peter was doing some fishing himself. He was fishing for a story.

Jerry Muskrat grinned. "Think you'll sleep any better if I tell you?" he inquired.

Peter grinned back and nodded. So Jerry Muskrat told him this story: