THE OLD HOMESTEAD TALES

THE BLUEBIRDS & THEIR NEIGHBOURS
By Neil Wayne Northey - 1930

CHAPTER 6

A Visit to the Black Forest

WHEN Mr. Bluebird arrived at the Big Jungle Thicket in the edge of the Black Forest, he stopped right in the middle of some blackberry brambles. There were still some dried berries clinging to the bushes, and they tasted sweet, with now and then a fat beetle when it could be found.

Mr. Bluebird was enjoying himself greatly. He went from branch to branch and from vine to vine without much thought of just where he was going. At last he found himself near the edge of an open spot in the Big Jungle Thicket. It was a rather large open spot, sheltered by the surrounding trees and brambles, and there were a few blades of early grass showing on the forest floor. And right there in the middle of the open spot, whom do you suppose Mr. Bluebird saw? Why, Snowshoe the Hare, of course. He was eating the Tender Grass Shoots.

Mr. Bluebird thought it would be fun to fly over and scare him. He would not let Snowshoe know he was there until he was right by him; then Snow­shoe would think he was Great Horn the Owl. He was just ready to fly when out hopped another rabbit.

Mr. Bluebird wondered what to do. He wanted to have a visit with Snowshoe, yet he didn't want to interrupt his talk with the other rabbit. That would not be polite.

While he sat there wondering what to do, Sharp­shin the Hawk sailed out of the Long Shadows and saw him. It was a very dangerous position to be in, and Mr. Bluebird knew it. He was so frightened at first that he couldn't move. He knew that it would be little protection for him to attempt to run through the Big Jungle Thicket, because Sharp shin would follow on foot if he had to. If he tried to fly, Sharpshin would catch him before he got very far, because Sharpshin had such a good start. And so he tumbled down into the dense blackberry brambles and waited for Sharpshin to strike.

Now, it happened that Mr. Bluebird was not the only one who had come to the Big Jungle Thicket that evening for supper. On the other side of the Big Jungle Thicket, Scrapper the Kingbird had been feasting on bugs and dried berries.

Every one knew that Scrapper the Kingbird did not like Sharpshin the Hawk. At least Sharpshin the Hawk knew it. And when Sharpshin heard a loud "keep-keep-kip kippa kippa kippa kippa kip," he knew that it was time to be moving away from there. In fact, he completely forgot about the blue­bird supper he had planned.

It didn't make any difference to Scrapper the Kingbird even though Sharpshin the Hawk was several times larger than he was. And he didn't hesitate because Sharpshin was armed with needle­like claws. No, sir! He dived at Sharpshin the Hawk and landed right on his back. Then how he made the feathers fly! There was Sharpshin doing his best to get away, while Scrapper the Kingbird rode on his back, picking out feathers as fast as he could.

When Scrapper the Kingbird finally let loose and flew back to the Big jungle Thicket, he left a very rumpled hawk flapping his wings frantically to getaway. Snowshoe the Hare and his friend had run thumpety thumpety thump to the shelter of the blackberry brambles when they had heard Scrap­per the Kingbird's warning, "Keep-keep-kip kippa kippa kippa kippa kip." They hadn't stopped to see what it was about.

At last Mr. Bluebird got enough courage to come out of the brambles where he had fallen. He looked around. There was Scrapper the Kingbird, eating as if nothing had happened. It was the first time Mr. Bluebird had seen him since the previous fall, when the Bluebirds and Song Sparrows and Robins and Orioles and Kingbirds had gathered in flocks and started for the Sunny Southland. Mr. Bluebird knew that; Scrapper the Kingbird was his friend, but he hadn't realized that he was such a good one.

"Tru-ally that was a narrow escape," he said. "I thank you for saving my life."

"That's all right," said Scrapper the Kingbird with a chuckle; "that's one hawk that will not be back right away."

"I believe it would be a good time for me to get back to the Old Homestead," said Mr. Bluebird. "I think I'll be going before it gets dark." Not that he was afraid to fly in the dark. He had flown from the Sunny Southland mostly at night., He wanted to get back home in time to see the new Nesting Box. That was what he wanted.

As he was passing the Apple Orchard, he thought he heard a familiar voice. He lit on the new fence and listened. Sure enough, he heard it again. It came from the other side of the Apple Orchard. "Ha ha-ha-ha." Robin Red had arrived.

Mr. Bluebird flew over in that direction. He found Robin Red looking for worms and bugs. Robin Red spends most of his time looking for something to eat when he isn't busy singing or helping Mrs. Robin Red.

"Hello, neighbor," said Mr. Bluebird. "I see that you are back."

"Ha ha-ha-ha," laughed Robin Red, "back again and ready to start work on a new nest." What he meant was that Mrs. Robin Red would do most of the nest building, while he sat around and sang to her.

"I see there is a new Nesting Box near my Red Cedar tree," continued Robin; Red, "and Jenny Wren has taken possession of it,"

"Sure-ly, sure-ly not," said Mr. Bluebird, "that is my Nesting Box."

It was almost dark, and Mr. Bluebird hurried away to see if what Robin Red had said was true.

Chapter 7

The Wisdom of Judge Flicker

IT DID not take Mr. Bluebird long to see that Jenny Wren had actually moved into his new Nesting Box, and she told him very plainly that she expected to stay. She bobbed in and out of the door, hopped along on the roof, and inspected the Nesting Box thoroughly. It suited her exactly.

Now, Jenny Wren was not a particular friend of the other birds. They did not like her very well. That was because she had such a sharp tongue. In fact, she had about the sharpest tongue of any bird her size. She chattered and scolded and hopped around as if she were the boss of the bird family. She said spiteful things to other birds and to Mr. Wren. She was a scolder. She also had a sharp bill; and if her bird neighbors did not watch her, she would pick holes in their eggs to spoil them.

Ordinarily the other birds did not pay much attention, to her, because they thought she really did not mean half that she said. She was so small no doubt they thought she was not worth noticing. Usually she was satisfied to build her nest almost any place. It might have been in an old pail or box or tin can, and once she built in the pocket of an old coat that was hanging in a suitable place. But when Jenny Wren saw the Nesting Box, she did not lose any time looking for another place.

During the night Mr. Bluebird tried to decide what to do. He did not like Jenny's scolding tongue and her sharp bill, and still more, he disliked to start a disgraceful neighborhood fuss. It was quite a problem for Mr. Bluebird.

The next morning Mr. Bluebird, had a talk with the Wrens. He tried to explain that the Nesting Box was his. Bud Smith had made it especially for him. Of course, they would not listen, and it was not long until they were arguing loudly.

"Just listen to that scrap," said Noisy to Mrs. Sparrow. "Suppose we go over and see what it is all about." If there is one thing the Noisys like, it is a fuss. They are like some people who enjoy meddling in other folks' business.

When they arrived at the Nesting Box, they added their scolding and chattering to the commo­tion, and soon other birds came. Even Robin Red was there to laugh at the funny things he saw. He is always looking for funny things to laugh at. And right when the noise was the loudest, in flew Mrs. Bluebird. It didn't take her long to see that Mr. Bluebird needed her help, and she went right to his aid.

It is hard to say how the fight would have ended if Judge Flicker had not happened by. "Tap-tap­tap-tap," he drummed on the cornice of the Grand Old House, "tap-tap-tap-tap." Every one stopped arguing to see what Judge Flicker had to say.

"What is the trouble about?" he asked.

Jenny Wren wanted to tell her side of it and Mr. Bluebird wanted to tell his. They both started talking at once. The Noisys joined in to tell what they knew, and soon there was a loud racket going again.

"Tap-tap-tap-tap,” drummed Judge Flicker, "tap-tap-tap-tap. We will have a trial and see if this cannot be settled peaceably."

And so Jenny Wren and Mr. Bluebird were each asked why they thought the Nesting Box was theirs.

"Sure-ly, sure-ly, the Nesting Box is mine because I claimed it first," said Mr. Bluebird.

"It's mine, it's mine!" shouted Jenny Wren. "He went away and left it."

"Bud Smith made it for me," said Mr. Bluebird.

"He made it for me," said Jenny Wren.

"My Nesting Post by the Apple Orchard is gone," said Mr. Bluebird.

"I don't care, it's mine, it's mine," chattered Jenny Wren.

Judge Flicker was in a very trying place-a very trying place indeed. If he said Mr. Bluebird should have the Nesting Box, Jenny Wren would be angry. And if he gave it to Jenny Wren, then Mr. Bluebird would not like it.

But Judge Flicker was a wise bird. He knew that the Nesting Box was made for Mr. Bluebird. He also knew that Jenny Wren didn't need such a large place in which to build her nest. She would only fill the extra space with sticks anyway.

Judge Flicker noticed a knot in the cornice near him. The knot looked as if it was loose. He sidled over to it. "Tap-tap-tap-tap," he drummed, and the knot fell out.

Jenny Wren was wild with delight. She forgot all about the Nesting Box because the knot hole looked better. It led back into an open space under the eaves. She was glad and Mr. Bluebird was glad and Robin Red was glad. You see, Robin Red had not said much, but he wanted Mr. Bluebird to live in the Nesting Box by his Red Cedar because they were such good friends. And Jenny Wren rather tired him with her continual hopping and chattering.

Mrs. Bluebird went inside to inspect the Nesting Box. "I believe I'll start building a nest right away," she said. But she intended to spend a few days first looking around the Old Homestead,

CHAPTER 8

Reddy Fox Goes A Hunting

MR. BLUEBIRD was happy. At last it looked as if his troubles were over. Mrs. Bluebird had arrived, and they had the new Nesting Box, and bugs were getting more plentiful every day. Every day old friends were arriving from the Sunny Southland.

"Tru-ally, tru-ally," sang Mr. Bluebird, "it's spring, it's spring"

Mrs. Bluebird was in the Apple Orchard visiting Bobby White, and Mr. Bluebird decided to see if Molly Cottontail had returned to her home in the Little Jungle Thicket at the foot of High Cliff. He thought that he could visit while he hunted for bugs and dried berries.

Molly was nowhere to be found at the Little Jungle Thicket, and Mr. Bluebird thought she must still be in the Green Meadow. He had hoped that she would be home, and that Peter would be home, and that he could see both of them. He wondered if Peter would ever come back to the Little Jungle Thicket.

While Mr. Bluebird was wondering about Peter and Molly Cottontail, he saw a reddish streak mov­ing slowly across the Green Meadow.

"That looks like Reddy Fox," said Mr. Bluebird to himself; "I wonder what mischief he is up to"

Mr. Bluebird flew a little closer. Sure enough, it was Reddy. He seemed to be sniffing the ground as if he was following a trail. Said Mr. Bluebird, "I'll bet Reddy Fox is hunting Molly Cottontail. I be­lieve I'll just fly over and warn her.

In a little while he was sitting in a treelet in the edge of the brambles that grew along Little River. He didn't know where to find Molly Cottontail because the bramble patch followed Little River quite a way, and he did not know what part of it she would be in. And so Mr. Bluebird waited to see which direction Reddy Fox would go after he arrived at the brushy fringe along Little River.

It did not take Reddy Fox long to decide which way he would go. You see, Reddy Fox has a very keen nose. It is so keen that even though there were a great many rabbit tracks in the bramble patch he could tell which one was the newest.

Reddy licked his lips and started through the thicket in the direction where Mr. Bluebird was sitting. The Playful Air Whiffs told him which way Molly Cottontail had gone. "My, how I do like rabbit for lunch," thought Reddy Fox. "As I live, there is Molly Cottontail now, and sound asleep."

Sure enough, there was Molly dozing behind a clump of brush. It was a very careless thing for her to do, but the Laughing Yellow Sun had warmed her fur coat and made her sleepy. She was so sleepy that she could not keep even one eye open.

Reddy Fox walked ahead very lightly and very slowly. He was not taking any chance of awaken­ing Molly Cottontail until he was near enough to make a dash for her. And there was Molly dream­ing about Peter and the Little Jungle Thicket.

Of course, Mr. Bluebird did not know that Molly was in such danger. He did not know that she was asleep right in front of Reddy's nose. He did not even know where she was. But he thought he would fly to the place where Reddy had entered the briers and see if he could find Molly. Just as he was ready to start, he heard a loud cry where Reddy had disappeared in the brambles.

"Beware, beware! shouted a coarse voice. It was Tattler the Jay.

You should have seen Molly awake and dash through the bramble thicket. She didn't wait to see what was the matter. She knew that when Tattler the Jay shouted, "Beware, beware!" it was time to be moving.

Thumpety thumpety thump, thumpety thump­ety thump. Mr. Bluebird heard Molly racing toward him for dear life. Reddy Fox was too surprised to follow. He was also very, very angry and disappointed.

"I wish you would mind your own business," he told Tattler the Jay.

"Haw haw haw," laughed the Tattler, as he flew away after Molly.

Molly Cottontail was so surprised that she forgot all about where to find a Friendly Burrow. All she could think about was to run as fast as she could. Thumpety thumpety thump. She ran so fast that soon she was out of breath. She had to stop and rest. You see, Molly cannot run nearly as fast as her cousin Jack the Jumper. I should say not! Molly would rather dodge into a Friendly Burrow if she could find one, but not so with Jack the Jumper. He skims over the ground so fast he almost looks like a gray streak.

And so Molly sat down to rest and to see if she could remember where to find a Friendly Burrow. And she happened to stop right where Mr. Blue­bird was waiting.

Chapter 9
Molly Cottontail Hears Some News

WHEW," puffed Molly Cottontail, "I wonder what Tattler the Jay saw that time."

"He saw Reddy Fox," said Mr. Bluebird, "and Reddy was following your trail."

Tattler the Jay had not warned Molly Cottontail because he was her friend. Oh no! Tattler the Jay is not a special friend to anyone. In fact, he is an enemy to almost all little birds. You see, Tattler the Jay is a robber. He is also a bully and a mur­derer. He drives small parent birds out of their nests and takes their eggs or kills their babies. If the owners are too large for him to drive away, he waits until they leave the nest in search of food and then he steals the eggs. He is a sneak thief. He would probably kill Molly's babies if she did not keep them hidden in a Friendly Burrow or some other place until they are large enough to hide themselves.

And so it was not because of friendship that Tattler the Jay warned Molly. He wanted make Reddy Fox angry. He likes to meddle in other people's business, and he tells everything he knows

He likes to gossip. Yes, sir, he flies through the woods and across the meadows from morning until night looking for something that he can tell to some one else. That is how he happened to know that Peter Cottontail was staying in the Big Jungle Thicket. And to was the reason that Tattler the Jay happened to be in the brambles along Little Rive when Reddy Fox came along. Tattler was looking for Molly himself so he could tell her a big story about Peter. He thought it would be fun to cause Molly to take a "wild-goose chase" in search of Peter.

When Molly ran away, he decided that he would follow so he could tell her a story about Peter. He saw Mr Bluebird on the treelet and stopped to ask him if he had seen Molly pass that way. There was Molly resting and talking to Mr. Bluebird

"Haw haw haw laughed Tattler the Jay, “how funny Reddy Fox looked when you ran away! It was indeed comical. Haw haw haw."

"Thank you for warning me," said Molly. "You saved my life."

Tattler the Jay did not care anything about that. He had had his fun out of it. And he was thinking about how much fun it was going to be to tell Molly about Peter. He just couldn't wait any longer. He hopped down near Molly, and perched on a little willow tree.

"Do you know that Peter is in the Big Jungle Thicket in the edge of the Black Forest?" he asked Molly.

"Of course I do," she answered. "He went there to look for Tender Grass Shoots to eat."

She did not want to say any more about it, and yet she thought that perhaps Tattler the Jay could tell her when he was expecting to come home.

"Have you seen Peter lately?" she asked.

"Only yesterday," said Tattler, as he cocked his head on one side and tried to look very wise "And that was when Shadow the Lynx was making a meal of him.”

Now, Molly Cottontail should have known Tattler the Jay well enough to know that he might have been mistaken. She should have waited until she heard more about it from some one who was not such a talker. But what Tattler the Jay had said made her anxious. My, how troubled she was!

"I am going right over to see if it was Peter," she said; and away she ran thumpety thumpety thump, thumpety thumpety thump.

"Haw haw haw," laughed Tattler the Jay, "won't Molly' be surprised when she sees Peter? Haw haw haw."

Mr. Bluebird thought that was a mean thing to do. He thought that Tattler the Jay should not have worried Molly like that. Some folks think it is great fun to make trouble. They simply have to keep things stirred up. And Tattler the Jay is one of that kind.

Mr. Bluebird didn't like Tattler the Jay very well. He didn't care to be seen talking to him. He was afraid that some one would see him and think that he was a gossiper too, because people judge us by the company we keep.. And so Mr. Bluebird flew back to the Nesting Box to see if Mrs. Blue­bird had returned from her visit with Bobby White.

CHAPTER 10

The Big Snowstorm

AFTER Molly left Tattler the Jay and Mr. Bluebird, she ran until she was out of breath, and then stopped by a Friendly Burrow. You see, she knew she was so tired that if Ranger the Coyote or Shaggy the Wolf came along, she would not be able to run and escape them. And so she wanted a Friendly Burrow handy while she was resting because she felt safer. She knew that she could tumble into it and escape their white fangs.

"I told Peter not to go to the Black Forest," said Molly to herself between puffs. "But he just would go. Now, if I had been with him, I could have watched while, he ate and thumped a warning if Shadow the Lynx came near. He just would go alone."

Then Molly felt sorry because she had talked so about Peter even though no one had heard her. It made her feel just as we feel when we think unkindly of some one. Even though we say nothing about it to anyone, we feel as if every one knows our thoughts, and we are ashamed.

"I must not talk like that about Peter," said Molly. "What if he is dead? Oh, I do hope he is safe. I wonder if Tattler the Jay was only fooling." And away went Molly again as fast as her legs could carry her.

In a short time some Gray Cloud Ships sailed across the sky and hid the Laughing Yellow Sun. Soon the Merry Little Snowflakes were falling thick and fast, and Molly stopped in the shelter of a rabbit bush.

"I believe we are going to have a storm," she said, as she wiggled her nose and sniffed the air. " I think I'll build a Cozy Form and wait until it is over."

And so she scratched out a place for a Cozy Form under the rabbit bush, arranged some dry grass around her for cover, and settled down until she was out of sight.

"I do wish it would stop snowing," she said, as she watched the Merry Little Snowflakes sift down.

"It seems as if all I get done is to build Cozy Forms. But then, I suppose I should not complain, because the snow is just what we need to bring up the Tender Grass Shoots. If only I knew about Peter"

In a short time the Great Wide World was covered with a deep, white blanket, and no one would ever have thought that Molly was hidden under that bush. No, sir; you never would have guessed it, because it looked just like many other rabbit bushes around there. Not even Reddy Fox could have found Molly unless he happened to pass quite close. You see, when the Merry Little Snowflakes are falling so fast and the Playful Air Whiffs are taking a rest, Reddy Fox cannot smell Molly very far because her scent is smothered to the ground somewhat.

And so Molly felt quite safe in her Cozy Form. The large bush protected her from the back and sides so that Reddy Fox could not pounce upon her from those directions. And she had been quite careful to see to it that there was no brush in front of her so she could bound away without interference if she were discovered. If she were found, she would have to play a game of dodge among the rabbit bushes, because she never could outrun Reddy Fox or Ranger the Coyote or Shaggy the Wolf, and especially in deep snow.

After a while it began to grow dark, and Molly could hear Screecher the Owl making terrible noises from his Old Hollow Stub in the Black Forest. Of course, Molly was not afraid of Screecher because she knew he was quite harmless even though he sounded like a monster. Sometimes we see people who are like that; they make a big noise to scare other people, but that is all it amounts to. Then we call them bluffers.

In the night Molly heard a strange noise. She was not quite sure what was making it. It was not a growl and it was not a scream. Sometimes it sounded far away, and then again it seemed to be quite close. It could hardly have been called a groan or a moan or a shriek. In fact, it would have been impossible to describe it.

"Now, I wonder what that is," thought Molly. "It doesn't sound like Growler the Bear or Shadow the Lynx or Screecher the Owl. And it could not be Whistler the Marmot because he would be asleep to-night."

Then Molly noticed that the Playful Air Whiffs were moving the brush at her back.

"Now I know what is making that noise," thought Molly. "The Playful Air Whiffs are rub­bing two trees together and causing a tree squeak." And so she settled down for a nap.

But Molly did not sleep long. She was awakened by the sound of something walking. Tramp, tramp, tramp. It was not very loud in the soft snow, but it was too loud to be Reddy the Fox or Ranger the Coyote or Shaggy the Wolf. Molly perked up her ears and listened. Tramp, tramp, tramp-it was coming nearer. Her heart began to thump. It might be Nero the Hound out on an early morning hunt., But no, Nero the Hound would not make that heavy a tread. Tramp, tramp, tramp-it was almost to Molly's hiding place. When it got right by her rabbit bush it stopped, and Molly's heart almost stopped too when her bush began to move. Something was eating twigs off her bush. Molly knew that anything that ate twigs would not be likely to harm her, and so she waited. Soon, she smelled the breath of Old Bent Horn the Cow, and Molly settled down again with a sigh of relief.

"My, how you frightened me! " she said to Old Bent Horn.

Old Bent Horn jumped with astonishment when she heard a noise coming from the bush on which she was browsing. "Is that you, Molly?" she asked.

"Yes, it is I," replied Molly. "And how does the world look outside?"

Old Bent Horn bit off another mouthful of twigs. "It is hard to find anything to eat," she said, "because the Tender Grass Shoots are hidden. But it looks as if we would have a nice day, for the Laughing Yellow Sun is just peeping over the Old Homestead."

"I do hope it is nice," said Molly, "because I must see if I can find Peter."

CHAPTER 11

Shaggy the Wolf Gets Hungry

AFTER Old Bent Horn left, Molly sat in her Cozy Form thinking. She sat there until the Laughing Yellow Sun began to melt the Merry Little Snowflakes on her rabbit bush and she felt the Cold Little Drops trickling down on her Back.

"Dear me, I'm getting wet," she said, "and also stiff. I believe I'll just hop along toward the Black Forest, and perhaps I can find some Tart Grape Vines or Bitter Willow Bark to eat on the way. It is such a task trying to find Tender Grass Shoots until the snow leaves."

And so Molly hopped right out of her form into the snow and started following in the trail that Old Bent Horn had left. That was a foolish thing for Molly to do. You see, as a rule Molly does not hop around much in daylight. She likes to hide and doze in a Cozy Form during the day, and come out to eat and play about dusk. She was taking her daytime nap when Reddy Fox almost caught her, and would have caught her, no doubt, if Tattler the jay had not warned her. She would have stayed in her form this time if it had not been wet, and if she had not been hungry and anxious to look for Peter. But off she went in the trail that Old Bent Horn had broken, stopping now and, then to nibble a Tender Grass Shoot that Old Bent Horn's feet had uncovered.

Yes, it was foolish of Molly to leave her form in daylight, and especially when snow was on the ground, because then she was so easily seen in her gray coat. It would not have been so bad if she had worn a white coat in winter like her cousin Snow­shoe the Hare: And then, to make matters worse, she left Old Bent Horn's trail and started right out across the snow, leaving a trail that was as plain as anything.

Over in the edge of the Black Forest was a Wild Plum Thicket where Shaggy the Wolf liked to spend the day. Of course, it did not make any difference to Shaggy just where he stayed during the day as long as he was hidden some place in the timber. Shaggy had been out, hunting alll night in the snow, and when the Laughing Yellow Sun came up, he had stopped in the Wild Plum Thicket where he would be out of sight until another night.

Just as the Laughing Yellow Sun was going down, Shaggy arose and stretched his legs. He was anxious to start his hunt because he had caught nothing the night before, and he was hungry. It seemed as if all the Rabbits and Hares and other Little Wild Creatures had not moved during the storm. And so Shaggy had lain around all day with an empty stomach.

"I'm so hungry," said Shaggy to himself, as he walked out of the Wild Plum Thicket. Then he sat down on his haunches, pointed his blunt nose toward the sky and howled. 

"Wake up, everybody," he seemed; to say.

Soon there was an answering howl from over near the Blue Spruce Thicket. "I'm already awake," was what it said to Shaggy.

"Come over and let's go hunting together," howled Shaggy.

You see, when Shaggy cannot catch something to eat alone, he gets help. Instead of stalking his victim and pouncing upon it as does Reddy Fox, he catches it by outrunning it and then pulling it down. When Shaggy the Wolf is hunting with his whole family in a pack, he does not hesitate to attack large animals like Old Bent Horn the Cow and Cervus the Elk and Lightfoot the Deer.

On the way to meet his friend, Shaggy the Wolf saw a track in the snow.

"Aha !" he said, and licked his white fangs, "Molly Cottontail has been along here, and not long ago either. I believe I'll hurry along and see if I can overtake her."

Away went Shaggy as fast as he could run.

Molly had just reached the edge of the Black Forest when she heard Shaggy the Wolf howl the first time. She hardly knew what to do.

"I must hurry to the Big Jungle Thicket, because soon Shaggy the Wolf will find my tracks and follow," she said.

It was not far to the Big Jungle Thicket, but Molly could not run very fast in the snow. Soon she had to stop to rest. Then she heard Shaggy's next howl, and it sounded nearer.

"I do wish the snow was frozen so I could run on top of it," said Molly, as she started on again. She knew that Shaggy's long legs would carry him through the snow without any trouble.

"If only I could find a Friendly Burrow, then I would be safe," puffed Molly; "but they are all out of sight under the snow."

After Shaggy the Wolf found Molly's tracks in the snow, he did not wait to go hunting with his friend. Oh no! He hurried right along after Molly.

"I do like rabbit for breakfast," he said, and he licked his sharp teeth with his red tongue. "Besides, one rabbit is not enough for two."

You see, although it was growing dark, it really was his breakfast that Shaggy the Wolf was hunt­ing, because he had slept all day. At least he had slept as much as wolves ever sleep.

Shaggy looked ahead, and his green-gray eyes sparkled. There, not far away, was Molly hopping along in the snow on her short legs as fast as she could go.

"Aha!" thought Shaggy, "I'll soon catch Molly now.”

CHAPTER 12

Molly Sees Pesty the Magpie

MOLLY was growing very tired, but she dared not stop. Once she looked back and saw the dark form of Shaggy the Wolf skimming along over the snow many times faster than she could run. If only she could reach the Big Jungle Thicket, then she would be safe. The buckbush and wild currant and chokecherry bushes and wild grape­vines grew so thick that Shaggy could not pass through them half as fast as Molly could run under them. And they were so thick that there would be little snow on the ground under them. That would be another thing in Molly's favor. If only she could reach it before, Shaggy arrived!

Then a strange thing happened. Molly almost ran pell-mell into Lightfoot the Deer, and Lightfoot was so frightened that he jumped and ran directly toward the Big Jungle Thicket. Or it might have been that he saw Shaggy the Wolf coming. For a moment Shaggy was so surprised that he forgot all about Molly. He stopped for an instant to make sure that Lightfoot the Deer was not Terror the Hunter. There were no Playful Air Whiffs just then tocarry Lightfoot's scent to Shaggy's keen nose, and so he had to depend upon his eyes to tell him what it was.

When Shaggy hesitated, that gave Molly time to gain a little ground. And where Lightfoot the Deer had run through the snow, he had broken a trail in places when he reached the ground between his long jumps. That made it a little easier for Molly to run.

At last Molly reached the Big Jungle Thicket and dived into a Sheltered Bunny Lane that led to other Sheltered Bunny Lanes that ran in all directions in the Big Jungle Thicket. There were so many Sheltered Bunny Lanes that even though Shaggyy the Wolf had tried to follow Molly he would soon have been confused. You see, Shaggy the Wolf hunts mostly by sight. That is, he likes to see whatever he is hunting, and does not follow a trail with his nose as well as Nero the Hound.

You may be sure that Molly was glad when she was hidden in that tangle of bushes and vines. She was ready to run into a Friendly Burrow and rest until morning. There were many Friendly Burrows in the Big Jungle Thicket, and each had a Sheltered Bunny Lane leading to it.

The next morning Molly came out of the Friendly Burrow just before the Laughing Yellow Sun came up over the Old Homestead. It is a mystery how Molly can tell when it is time to get up when she is in a Friendly Burrow where it is always dark. Perhaps she sleeps near enough to the opening so she can see the first hint of daylight. But usually Molly does her sleeping during the day. Then how does she know when it is growing dark and time to get up when there is no daylight to awaken her? That is one of Molly Cottontail's deep secrets.

Molly was very anxious to look for Peter. She was so anxious that she did not stop to think that Peter would probably be asleep in a Friendly Burrow or Cozy Form as most Cottontails were during the day. And so she came out of the Friendly Burrow to look around. It had been a long time since Molly had been in the Big Jungle Thicket. She and Peter had gone there once in winter, thinking it would be a nice place to stay. But they had gone back to their own Friendly Burrow in the Little Jungle Thicket at the foot of High Cliff when Jolly Spring had come. That had been a year before.

When Molly sat up on the edge of the Friendly Burrow to look around, there was Pesty the Magpie sitting in a bush near by.

Now, Pesty the Magpie is not a friend of Molly's. He steals her babies and eats them if he gets a chance. Not only that, he kills other things. Sometimes he even kills grown cattle by picking large holes in their sides where they have been branded. He is a pest and a nuisance. He is also a scavenger. That is, he flies across the fields and through the forests looking for some dead thing that he can eat. It is no wonder that Pesty the Magpie is an undesirable citizen, because he belongs to the same family as Jim Crow and Tattler the Jay; and they are both thieves and murderers.

No, Pesty was no friend of Molly's, but Molly thought that during his travels he might have seen Peter. At least she meant to ask him.

"Good morning," said Molly, more to attract Pesty's attention than for any other reason.

"Good morning," replied Pesty, with his impudent, cackling voice.

"Have you seen Peter lately?" Molly inquired, in a casual tone. "He came over to the Big Jungle Thicket to look for Tender Grass Shoots, and Tattler the Jay told me that Shadow the Lynx caught him."

"Cask-tack," said Pesty "I have not seen him. I have been over in the Wide-Wide Pasture, hoping that Shaggy the Wolf would come along and kill a juicy calf and leave some for me to eat. But he didn't, so I came back. Perhaps Sneak the Couger will catch Lightfoot the Deer, and then I shall have plenty to eat."

You see, Sneak the Couger usually eats only one meal from his catch, and the next time he is hungry he kills something else.

"And Shadow the Lynx," continued Pesty, "if he caught Peter, he wouldn't leave me a bite. Cack­cack," and Pesty the Magpie flew away, leaving Molly feeling very blue.

"Oh, dear," she sighed, "I must find Peter. I just must find him."