LITTLE
Bunny Longears and his four brothers and sisters were born one day early
in May in the brier patch at the foot of the hill in plain sight of Mr.
Man's house. Mother Bunny had chosen the brier patch for her home because
it was a brier patch. She had learned that the thicker the briers the less
likely dogs, men, and most of her other enemies were to come near. Even
Mr. Hawk and Mr. Owl, much as they like to dine on freshly killed rabbit,
hesitate to swoop down into a brier patch in an attempt to catch anything.
The briers tear their feathers too badly.
Mother
Bunny had lived in that neighborhood for some time; and just because it
was necessary in, order to save her life, she had kept watch every day and
every night of where Mr. Man, his dog, and even his cat, went most often.
In this way she also learned the places they avoided. This brierpatch
was more carefully avoided by all of them than any other place in the neighborhood. She chose it for this reason, and also because
it was so near the house that even Mr. Fox and Mr. Weasel seldom came
there. She soon knew every corner of this brierpatch, and every time she
was chased by a dog she ran directly to it. It was such a tangle of
blackberry briers, scrubby thorn bushes, and saw-brier vines that it is no
wonder a dog seldom followed her more than a few feet into it.
She
had made paths through it in every direction -paths
where the briers were high enough not to scratch her, but low enough to
catch most of her enemies. She knew just how to lead her pursuers into the
sharpest briers and the worst thorns without getting a scratch herself.
There
was much broom sedge and other grass growing through this brierpatch - and
as the cows seldom got hungry enough to graze there, much of the grass of
previous years had died and fallen in tangles. Under one of these tangles
of dead grass and briers, Mother Bunny had built a home on a well-drained
spot, and lined it with the softest grass she could find mixed with fur
pulled from her own body. It was a very snug, "comfy" home, so
well built that it was always warm, and so well covered with dead grass
that it was always dry inside, even after a heavy rain.
She
was very proud of her new home, for it was the first time she had ever
built one just where she thought a home should be located. Here she could
lie down and go to sleep so thoroughly well hidden that she could not be
seen ten feet away, and the briers extended so far on every side that no
enemy was likely to even get near enough to smell her. She felt so safe
here that she sometimes even dared to close her eyes when she slept, for
even if she were found, her home was surrounded on all sides by a circle
of the sharpest briers through which nothing could come without making
enough noise to waken her. This way of sleeping with her eyes shut was
very unusual, for rabbits generally sleep, or at least appear to sleep,
with their eyes wide open, their ears stuck forward to catch every sound,
and their legs set to jump at an instant's warning ; and this is
necessary, for every hawk, owl, fox, coyote, or other animal that eats
meat is ready to pounce on a rabbit at sight.
There
was a clover field bordering the brier patch on one side and Mr. Man's
garden bordered it on the other, and Mr. Man grew plenty of peas and
cabbage in his garden. Nothing could have been finer; for if there is
anything in the world a rabbit likes to eat better than fresh, tender
clover leaves it is cabbage or green pea tops.
Mrs.
Bunny was a timid little widow. She was timid because, ever since she
could remember, she had been compelled to watch every moment of her life
lest something catch and kill her, and having been born where there was
little food she had been compelled to worry lest she should not get enough
to eat. She was a widow because her former-home had been in the open
woods, where one must travel unprotected in search of food, and one day a
great hawk had swooped down and carried off her mate right before her eyes
as they were returning from gathering their breakfast. It was then she
had left her home and fled.
Finally
she found this brierpatch: Never had she felt so safe before, for now she
had a home that was protected and there was enough of the very most
delicious food to feed a hundred rabbits almost at her very door. Here she
should be able to raise her family without danger and without too much
work.
She
was very proud of her little family, and stayed with them day and night
till they were a week old, only leaving them for a few moments now and
then to run over and eat a few tender clover leaves.
By
that time they had grown wonderfully. Even the runt of the family would
weigh more than twice as much as when he was born, and they all had their
eyes open and were clamoring to get out and see what the great world about
them was like. She, knew it was not safe for them to do this, but what
could she do? She was getting thin and must spend more time hunting food.
She must leave them alone a great deal, and she could not help feeling
anxious about what might happen while she was away.
The
young of all animals love to run and play as soon as they are able to do
so; and it is well that they do, for this takes them out into the
sunshine, and sunshine makes them grow strong. Even human children should
play in the sunshine every day, if they are to grow up to be strong and
healthy men and women. It was especially important that Bunny Longears and
his brothers and sisters should grow strong and active, for who knew how
soon they might have to run for their lives.
So
their mother allowed them to play in the sunshine when she was home and
knew there was no enemy in sight, and what merry times they did have,
playing "leap frog" or chasing each other up and down the paths,
playing tag. Soon they knew the paths in their brierpatch almost as well
as did their mother, and she was very proud of this. How strong they were
getting, and how they could make their little legs fly! She would sit up
on her haunches and watch them play, with her eyes and ears strained to
catch every sight or sound, and her funny nose working and wabbling all
the time, searching for the smell of an enemy.
Should
she hear, see, or smell anything unusual she would thump the ground with
her powerful hind leg, and all of the little bunnies would come scampering
home as fast as they could run and would jump into bed and lie as quiet as
mice. She had taught them to do this, which was easy for her to do because
they had partly inherited it from a long line of ancestors whose mothers
had also believed their children were safer when home in bed.
But
when she left her children and went for a meal in the garden or the clover
field, she never felt quite sure what might happen, especially after she
returned one evening and found only Bunny Longears in the nest. All the
others were out playing, and she had to thump the ground hard with her
strong hind leg several times before they began to return. They all came
back but one.
He
had run near the clover patch, and it had looked so good to him that he
had hopped out of the briers and was soon having his first meal of clover
leaves eaten directly from the plant. How good they tasted! He could have
all he wished for there was a whole field full, so he ate as fast as he
could nibble and forgot to look and listen. His mother would never have
dared to take more than a bite or two without looking about and listening.
But then he was only a baby rabbit, and had not learned the dangers of the
cruel world outside his brierpatch. Experience might have taught him
wisdom, if only things had gone well. But things did not go well. A hungry
hawk was sailing over the field looking for a good supper. It saw the
little fellow, and before he knew it was near, it had him in its talons
and was tearing at his head with its beak. One squeal of pain and terror
and all was over, and the hawk had its supper.
Wild
mothers love their children as well as we do ours, else they would not be
willing to risk their own lives to protect them; but when one of them
loses a child she does not waste time mourning, especially if she has
other children needing her care. So Bunny's mother did not neglect her
remaining children to mourn the one that was gone. She simply watched the
more anxiously that a similar fate should not overtake those that were
left.
I
cannot say whether Bunny's remaining brothers and sisters knew what had
happened or not. I am not even sure his mother knew. But I do know the
others did not profit by the lesson. One by one they ventured to leave
home and go out alone to see what they could find, and one by one they
failed to return. They were not willing to wait for their mother to take
them out and teach them what to do.
In
every wildling's family there are one or more children that are wiser than
the rest. They seem instinctively to know better than to go alone into
danger till they have gained enough experience to take care of themselves.
The others are soon destroyed by their enemies. Perhaps it is just as
well, for if all of the young of such animals as rabbits were wise enough
to live, it would not be long till they would be so abundant they would
destroy all our crops.
This
is how Bunny had learned to know and to fear dogs. One day his sister had
run out on the lawn too near Mr. Man's house. Mr. Man's dog saw her and
gave chase. She ran as fast as her little legs could go but that was not
fast enough. The dog caught her just before she reached the brierpatch,
Bunny saw it all, and ever afterward he would fear dogs. Better still,
they had come so near his delicate nostrils that he had caught the odor of
the terrible monster, and he would never again smell that odor without a
shudder of fear.
Not
long after this a cat slipped into the brierpatch and caught one of his
brothers within a few feet of him. Now he knew one must be always on the
alert even in the brierpatch. Cats were not so large and terrifying as
dogs, but they were even more to be dreaded, for the briers hindered them
but little more than they did Bunny himself.
Before
Bunny was three weeks old he had no brothers or sisters left. Now his
mother gave him her whole attention and did everything possible to teach
him the things he needed to know.
Bunny
had learned his lessons well. He knew how to slip into the clover patch or
into the garden after night fall, - and he did this often, for he was very
fond of peas and clover, - but he also knew he must look and listen before
leaving the bushes, and that he must hurry as fast as possible till he was
hidden again. He knew he must stop after every bite or two to look and
listen, and he knew that when danger came he should sit perfectly still
till he was sure he was seen, and then if necessary run to the brierpatch
as fast as possible.
But
he felt safe in his own bed. He had minded his mother and had been careful
when he left his bed, and he had always run to it as straight as he could
go when he thought he was in danger.
Then,
suddenly, his great danger came. He, was asleep in his bed in the middle
of the day. His mother was away, and he knew he must be doubly careful,
for there was no one to look after him; but he was sleepy, and surely he
was safe here. He would doze just a little while. , So he closed his eyes
and was soon fast asleep.
Suddenly
he was wide awake without knowing just why. Then the grass over his bed
moved ever so little and he saw a sleek, shiny head reared over him and
two beady eyes looking straight into his. He had never seen anything like
this before, and he was terribly frightened. Yet he lay perfectly still,
for he was not sure he was seen.
In
fact he had not been seen, but a great black snake more than five feet
long had scented the odor of rabbit and was slowly tracing out where it
came from. The ugly head waved back and forth and the long forked tongue
licked out above his head as the terrible monster tried to locate the odor
that was now so strong. Bunny did not move a hair's breadth. He scarcely
dared breathe, but his muscles grew tense and he knew he was ready to jump
any instant.
The
ugly head was reared higher and waved again. Then the snake quickly drew
back its head to strike, and Bunny knew he was seen. In less time than I
can tell it, he gave a great leap and was running down the path with all
his might. And he was none too soon, for the snake's head grazed him as he
sprang from the nest.
It
took the snake an instant to recover and start in pursuit, and this gave
Bunny a little start. Down the path they sped, Bunny running for his life,
and the snake following determined to have his dinner.
They
passed the paths that led into, the thickest briers. Bunny had no time to
turn into them. Besides, what was the use of leading an enemy into the
briers if that enemy could glide through them more easily than he could
himself. Poor Bunny was only a foot or two ahead when he sprang out of the
briers onto Mr. Man's lawn. There sat Mr. Man a few rods away telling a
story to some children, but Bunny did not see them. Neither did the snake
see them. They were too intent on their race for life.
On
they came till the children cried out, but Bunny did not hear them.
Neither did the snake. Mr. Man said, "Keep still and see what
happens." Just then the snake caught Bunny, and started to wrap its
ugly, cold body around him and to squeeze him. Poor Bunny! What could he
do! In terror he screamed, "Mamma, Mamma," as loud as he could
cry; and then he could cry no more, for the dreadful snake was squeezing
the breath out of him.
Mother
had been sunning herself only a few feet away, and did not know what was
happening. She forgot her fears of Mr. Man and came as fast as she could
run. She saw poor Bunny and the snake and knew what was happening.
Like
a vixen she sprang on the snake, sank her teeth in its neck, and began
tearing its body with the sharp claws on her strong hind feet. How fast
she did scratch, and how the scales flew off its body!
This
was something the snake had not counted on. Instead of leisurely
strangling its prey, it was being terribly torn and hurt. It could not
stand this much longer. So it uncoiled from Bunny and tried to wrap around
his mother. If it could do this, it would be safe. It could soon crush the
life out of her.
Bunny
was free and he started across the lawn as fast as he could go, coming
straight toward Mr. Man, but he did not know that. He was too frightened
to see him.
Whether
his mother saw Mr. Man and was frightened, or whether, now that her
darling child was free, her fear returned and she could no longer fight
the snake, Mr. Man could not tell, but she left the snake and ran into the
brierpatch.
One
would suppose the snake would have left also, but it did not. It must have
been very hungry, for again it darted after Bunny Longears as fast as it
could go, and poor Bunny could not run as fast as before. He had been hurt
too badly.
The
snake caught him again, much nearer Mr. Man and the children than before.
Again Bunny shrieked, "Mamma, Mamma," and again she came as fast
as she could run. She tore at the snake again with claws and teeth and
soon her baby was free and had fled to his home in the brierpatch.
Mother
rabbit did not leave the snake so soon this time, but in a moment or two
she also ran away. The snake did not attempt to follow. It did not seem
able. Mr. Man and the children ran to where it was and found it torn and
bleeding. Whether it would have died from its wounds no one can tell, for
the children had seen enough. They demanded that Mr. Man kill it, which he
did.
Was
Bunny badly hurt? Evidently he was more scared than hurt, for soon he was
seen in the clover patch eating clover. He lived to become a wise' rabbit
and knew how to take care of himself and how to avoid danger. The last I
knew he was still living in the brierpatch and was sure he had just the
best and safest home in the country.
WHAT'S
NEW? 
