IV
WHERE YELLOW-WING GOT HIS LIKING FOR THE GROUND
Peter Rabbit was hopping along on the edge of the Green Meadows, lookingfor a new patch of sweet clover. It was very beautiful that morning, andPeter was in the best of spirits. It was good just to be alive. Everyonce in a while Peter would jump up and kick his long heels togetherjust from pure happiness. He was so happy that he didn't pay particularattention to where he was going or what was about him. The result wasthat Peter got a fright. Right from under his very nose something sprangout of the grass so suddenly and so wholly unexpectedly that Peter verynearly tumbled over backward. He made two long jumps off to one side andthen turned to see what had startled him so. But all he saw was an oldfeathered acquaintance headed towards the Old Orchard. He seemed tobound along through the air much as Peter bounds along over the groundwhen he is in a hurry. It was Yellow-Wing the Flicker.
Peter grinned and looked a little foolish. He felt a little foolish. Youknow it always makes you feel foolish to be frightened when there isnothing to be afraid of. Peter watched Yellow-Wing until he disappearedamong the trees of the Old Orchard, from which presently his voicesounded clear and loud, and in it there was a mocking note as ifYellow-Wing were laughing at him. Peter suspected that he was. ButPeter was feeling too happy to mind being laughed at. In fact, hechuckled himself. It was something of a joke to be frightened by one whowas so wholly harmless. Peter recalled how many times he had frightenedother people and thought it the best of jokes.
Peter went on until he found a new patch of sweet clover. Then he forgotall about Yellow-Wing. He was too busy filling that big stomach of histo think of anything else. When he couldn't find room for another leafof clover he went home to the dear Old Briar-patch, and there in hisfavorite spot he settled himself to rest and think or dream as the casemight be. Presently his thoughts returned to Yellow-Wing, and hechuckled again at the memory of his fright that morning. And then forthe first time it struck Peter as queer that Yellow-Wing should havebeen out there on the Green Meadows on the ground. He often had seenYellow-Wing on the ground, but until that moment there never had seemedanything queer about that. Now, however, it suddenly came to Peter thatYellow-Wing belonged in trees, not on the ground.
Peter scratched his long left ear with his long left hind foot, whichwas a sign that he was thinking of something that puzzled him. "Hebelongs to the Woodpecker family," thought Peter, "and never have I seenany of his relatives on the ground. They get all their food in thetrees. Now why is Yellow-Wing so different from his relatives?"
The more Peter thought about it, the queerer it seemed that a Woodpeckershould spend so much time on the ground, or visit the ground at all,for that matter. But just wondering about it didn't get him anywhere,and at last Peter decided that the only way to find out would be to askquestions. So Peter made up his mind to watch for Yellow-Wing and askhim all about it the first chance he got.
The chance came the very next day in the very same place where Peter hadbeen so startled. This time he was on the watch and saw Yellow-Wing verybusy about something. Peter stole up within speaking distance.
"Good morning, Yellow-Wing," said he. "I wonder if you will tell mesomething."
It was Yellow-Wing's turn to be startled, for he had not seen Peterapproaching. He half lifted his wings to fly, but when he saw who itwas, he changed his mind.
"It all depends on what it is you want me to tell you," he repliedrather shortly.
"It is just this," replied Peter. "Why do you spend so much time on theground?"
"That's easily answered," laughed Fellow-Wing. "I do it because it isthe easiest way to get enough to eat."
Peter looked as surprised as he felt. "I thought that all your familygot their living in the trees!" he exclaimed.
"All do but me," replied Yellow-Wing a wee bit testily. "But I don'thave to do what they do just because they do it. No, Siree, I'mindependent! Do you like ants, Peter?"
"What?" exclaimed Peter.
"I asked if you like ants," repeated Yellow-Wing.
"I've never tried them," Peter replied, "but I've heard Old Mr. Toadsay they are very nice."
"They are," said Yellow-Wing. "They are more than nice--they arede-li-cious. It is because of them that I spend so much time on theground. Ants changed the habits of the Flicker branch of the Woodpeckerfamily. I wouldn't be surprised if we became regular ground birds one ofthese days."
Peter looked puzzled. He kept turning it over in his mind as he watchedYellow-Wing plunge his long stout bill into an ant hill and then gobbleup the ants as they came rushing out to see what the trouble was.
"I don't see how ants could change the habits of anybody," he venturedafter a while.
Yellow-Wing's eyes twinkled. "Why don't you learn to eat them?" hedemanded. "If you would, they might change _your_ habits. The beginningof the change in the habits of my folks began a long time ago."
"Way back in the beginning of things, when the world was young?" askedPeter.
"No, not quite so far back as that," replied Yellow-Wing."Great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather, who was the first Flicker, was,of course, a member of the Woodpecker family, and he got his living inregular Woodpecker fashion. It never entered his head to look for foodanywhere but in the trees, and I don't suppose that it ever entered hishead to set foot on the ground. It was the same with his children andhis children's children for a long time.
"But though they lived as true Woodpeckers should, the Flickers alwayswere a bit sharper-witted and more independent than most of theirrelatives. For one thing they had discovered that ants were fine eatingand that great numbers of them were to be found running up and down thetrunks of certain trees. So the Flickers used to look for these treesand feast on the ants. It saved a lot of labor. A stomachful of antscould be picked from the trunk of a tree in the time it would take todig out one worm in the wood, to say nothing of the saving of hard work.
"One day a few years ago my great-great-great-grandfather, so the storygoes, had stuffed himself with ants from the trunk of a tree and hadsettled himself for a rest. From where he sat he could see a processionof ants going up and down the tree, and he got to wondering where theyall came from and where they all went to. So he watched and presentlydiscovered that that double line of ants led out along the ground fromthe foot of the tree. This made him still more curious and he followedit, flying along just over it. He had gone but a short distance when hecame to a little mound of sand, and there the line of ants ended.Grandfather Flicker flew up in a tree from which he could look rightdown on that mound, and it didn't take him long to discover that thoseants were going in and out of little holes in that mound.
"'As I live, that must be their home!' exclaimed he. 'That place isalive with them. What a place to fill one's stomach! I never was on theground in my life, but the next time I'm hungry, I'm going to see whatthe ground is like. I won't have to stay on it long to get my dinnerhere.'
"Grandfather Flicker was as good as his word. When he was ready foranother meal, he flew down to that ant hill. He found that when heplunged his bill into it, the ants fairly poured out to see what washappening, and all he had to do was to thrust out his long sticky tongueand lick them up. Never in all his life before had he filled his stomachso easily. After that, instead of wasting time hunting for worms andinsects in the trees where he could find only one at a time, GrandfatherFlicker kept his eyes open for ant hills on the ground. He taught hischildren to do the same thing. That was the beginning of the change ofhabits with the Flickers. Ever since we have spent more and more time onthe ground, so that now we feel quite at home there. We still get someof our food in the trees by way of variety, and we make our homes there,but a good big part of our food we get just as I am doing now."
With this Yellow-Wing once more plunged his bill into the ant hill andlicked up a dozen ants who had come rushing out to see what was goingon. And so once more the curiosity of Peter Rabbit was satisfied, and hehad learned something.
Mother West Wind Where Stories Page 4
