“He is found all over the West, from the mountains to the deserts, in thick forests and on sandy wastes. He is also found in parts of the East and in the Sunny South. He is a great climber and is perfectly at home in trees or among rocks. He eats seeds, grain, many kinds of nuts, leaves and other parts of plants. In the colder sections he lays up stores for winter.”
“What kind of a home does he have?” asked Happy Jack.
“His home usually is a very remarkable affair,” replied Old Mother Nature. “It depends largely on where he is. When he is living in rocky country, he makes it amongst the rocks. In some places he burrows in the ground. But more often it is on the surface of the ground,—a huge pile of sticks and thorns in the very middle of which is his snug, soft nest. The sticks and thorns are to protect it from enemies. When he lives down where cactus grow, those queer plants with long sharp spines, he uses these, and there are few enemies who will try to pull one of these houses apart to get at him.
“When he is alarmed or disturbed, he has a funny habit of drumming on the ground with his hind feet in much the same way that Peter Rabbit and Jumper the Hare thump, only he does it rapidly. Sometimes he builds his house in a tree. When he finds a cabin in the woods he at once takes possession, carrying in a great mass of sticks and trash. He is chiefly active at night, and a very busy fellow he is, trading and collecting. He has none of the mean disposition of Robber the Brown Rat. Mrs. Trader has two to five babies at a time and raises several families in a year. As I said before, Trader is one of the most interesting little people I know of, and he does very, very funny things.
“Now we come to the handsomest member of the family, Longfoot the Kangaroo Rat, so called because of his long hind legs and tail and the way in which he sits up and jumps. Really he is not a member of the Rat branch of the family, but closely related to the Pocket Mice. You see, he has pockets in his cheeks.”
“Like mine?” asked Striped Chipmunk quickly.
“No, they are on the outside instead of on the inside of his cheeks. Yours are inside.”
“I think mine must be a lot handier,” asserted Striped Chipmunk, nodding his head in a very decided way.
“Longfoot seems to think his are quite satisfactory,” replied Old Mother Nature. “He really is handsome, but he isn’t a bit vain and is very gentle. He never tries to bite when caught and taken in a man’s hand.”
“But you haven’t told us how big he is or what he looks like,” protested impatient Peter.
“When he sits up or jumps, he looks like a tiny Kangaroo. But that doesn’t mean anything to you, and you are no wiser than before, for you never have seen a Kangaroo,” replied Old Mother Nature. “In the first place he is about the size of Striped Chipmunk. That is, his body is about the size of Striped Chipmunk’s; but his tail is longer than his head and body together.”
“My, it must be some tail!” exclaimed Peter Rabbit admiringly.
Old Mother Nature smiled. “It is,” said she. “You would like that tail, Peter. His front legs are short and the feet small, but his hind legs are long and the feet big. Of course you have seen Nimbleheels the Jumping Mouse, Peter.”
Peter nodded. “Of course,” he replied. “My, how that fellow can jump!”
“Well, Longfoot is built on the same plan as Nimbleheels and for the same purpose,” continued Old Mother Nature. “He is a jumper.”
“Then I know what that long tail is for,” cried Peter. “It is to keep him balanced when he is in the air so that he can jump straight.”
“Right again, Peter,” laughed Old Mother Nature. “That is just what it is for. Without it, he never would know where he was going to land when he jumped. As I told you, he is a handsome little fellow. His fur is very soft and silky. Above, it is a pretty yellowish-brown, but underneath it is pure white. His cheeks are brown, he is white around the ears, and a white stripe crosses his hips and keeps right on along the sides of his tail. The upper and under parts of his tail are almost or quite black, and the tail ends in a tuft of long hair which is pure white. His feet are also white. His head is rather large for his size, and long. He has a long nose. Longfoot has a number of cousins, some of them much smaller than he, but they all look very much alike.”
“Where do they live?” asked Johnny Chuck, for Johnny had been unable to stay away from school another day.
“In the dry, sandy parts of the Southwest, places so dry that it seldom rains, and water is to be found only long distances apart,” replied Old Mother Nature.
“Then how does Longfoot get water to drink?” demanded Chatterer the Red Squirrel.
“He gets along without drinking,” replied Old Mother Nature. “Such moisture as he needs he gets from his food. He eats seeds, leaves of certain plants and tender young plants just coming up. He burrows in the ground and throws up large mounds of earth. These have several entrances. One of these is the main entrance, and during the day this is often kept closed with earth. Under the mound he has little tunnels in all directions, a snug little bedroom and storerooms for food. He is very industrious and dearly loves to dig.
“Longfoot likes to visit his relatives sometimes, and where there are several families living near together, little paths lead from mound to mound. He comes out mostly at night, probably because he feels it to be safer then. Then, too, in that hot country it is cooler at night. The dusk of early evening is his favorite playtime. If Longfoot has a quarrel with one of his relatives they fight, hopping about each other, watching for a chance to leap and kick with those long, strong hind feet. Longfoot sometimes drums with his hind feet after the manner of Trader the Wood Rat.
“Now I think this will do for this morning. If any of you should meet Whitefoot the Wood Mouse, tell him to come to school to-morrow morning. And you might tell Danny Meadow Mouse to come also, Peter. That is, of course, if you little folks want school to continue.”
NIMBLEHEELS THE JUMPING MOUSE. Look for this pretty little fellow in old weedy fields. See page 109.
DANNY MEADOW MOUSE. He kills young trees by gnawing off the bark under the snow. See page 101.
“We do!” cried Peter Rabbit and Jumper the Hare and Happy Jack Squirrel and Chatterer the Red Squirrel and Striped Chipmunk and Johnny Chuck as one.
15. Two Unlike Little Cousins
WHITEFOOT the Wood Mouse is one of the smallest of the little people who live in the Green Forest. Being so small he is one of the most timid. You see, by day and by night sharp eyes are watching for Whitefoot and he knows it. Never one single instant, while he is outside where sharp eyes of hungry enemies may see him, does he forget that they are watching for him. To forget even for one little minute might mean,—well, it might mean the end of little Whitefoot, but a dinner for some one with a liking for tender Mouse.
So Whitefoot the Wood Mouse rarely ventures more than a few feet from a hiding place and safety. At the tiniest sound he starts nervously and often darts back into hiding without waiting to find out if there really is any danger. If he waited to make sure he might wait too long, and it is better to be safe than sorry. If you and I had as many real frights in a year, not to mention false frights, as Whitefoot has in a day, we would, I suspect, lose our minds. Certainly we would be the most unhappy people in all the Great World.
But Whitefoot isn’t unhappy. Not a bit of it. He is a very happy little fellow. There is a great deal of wisdom in that pretty little head of his. There is more real sense in it than in some very big heads. When some of his neighbors make fun of him for being so very, very timid he doesn’t try to pretend that he isn’t afraid. He doesn’t get angry. He simply says:
“Of course I’m timid, very timid indeed. I’m afraid of almost everything. I would be foolish not to be. It is because I am afraid that I am alive and happy right now. I hope I shall never be less timid than I am now, for it would mean that sooner or later I would fail to run in time and would be gobbled up. It isn’t cowardly to be timid when there is danger all around. Nor is it bravery to take a foolish
and needless risk. So I seldom go far from home. It isn’t safe for me, and I know it.”
This being the way Whitefoot looked at matters, you can guess how he felt when Chatterer the Red Squirrel caught sight of him and gave him Old Mother Nature’s message.
“Hi there, Mr. Fraidy!” shouted Chatterer, as he caught sight of Whitefoot darting under a log. “Hi there! I’ve got a message for you!”
Slowly, cautiously, Whitefoot poked his head out from beneath the old log and looked up at Chatterer. “What kind of a message?” he demanded suspiciously.
“A message you’ll do well to heed. It is from Old Mother Nature,” replied Chatterer.
“A message from Old Mother Nature!” cried Whitefoot, and came out a bit more from beneath the old log.
“That’s what I said, a message from Old Mother Nature, and if you will take my advice you will heed it,” retorted Chatterer. “She says you are to come to school with the rest of us at sun-up to-morrow morning.”
Then Chatterer explained about the school and where it was held each morning and what a lot he and his friends had already learned there. Whitefoot listened with something very like dismay in his heart. That place where school was held was a long way off. That is, it was a long way for him, though to Peter Rabbit or Jumper the Hare it wouldn’t have seemed long at all. It meant that he would have to leave all his hiding places and the thought made him shiver.
But Old Mother Nature had sent for him and not once did he even think of disobeying. “Did you say that school begins at sun-up?” he asked, and when Chatterer nodded Whitefoot sighed. It was a sigh of relief. “I’m glad of that,” said he. “I can travel in the night, which will be much safer. I’ll be there. That is, I will if I am not caught on the way.”
Meanwhile over on the Green Meadows Peter Rabbit was looking for Danny Meadow Mouse. Danny’s home was not far from the dear Old Briar-patch, and he and Peter were and still are very good friends. So Peter knew just about where to look for Danny and it didn’t take him long to find him.
“Hello, Peter! You look as if you have something very important on your mind,” was the greeting of Danny Meadow Mouse as Peter came hurrying up.
“I have,” said Peter. “It is a message for you. Old Mother Nature says for you to be on hand at sun-up to-morrow when school opens over in the Green Forest. Of course you will be there.”
“Of course,” replied Danny in the most matter-of-fact tone. “Of course. If Old Mother Nature really sent me that message——”
“She really did,” interrupted Peter.
“There isn’t anything for me to do but obey,” finished Danny. Then his face became very sober. “That is a long way for me to go, Peter,” said he. “I wouldn’t take such a long journey for anything or for anybody else. Old Mother Nature knows, and if she sent for me she must be sure I can make the trip safely. What time did you say I must be there?”
“At sun-up,” replied Peter. “Shall I call for you on my way there?”
Danny shook his head. Then he began to laugh. “What are you laughing at?” demanded Peter.
“At the very idea of me with my short legs trying to keep up with you,” replied Danny. “I wish you would sit up and take a good look all around to make sure that Old Man Coyote and Reddy Fox and Redtail the Hawk and Black Pussy, that pesky Cat from Farmer Brown’s, are nowhere about.”
Peter obligingly sat up and looked this way and looked that way and looked the other way. No one of whom he or Danny Meadow Mouse need be afraid was to be seen. He said as much, then asked, “Why did you want to know, Danny?”
“Because I am going to start at once,” replied Danny.
“Start for where?” asked Peter, looking much puzzled.
“Start for school of course,” replied Danny rather shortly.
“But school doesn’t begin until sun-up to-morrow,” protested Peter.
“Which is just the reason I am going to start now,” retorted Danny. “If I should put off starting until the last minute I might not get there at all. I would have to hurry, and it is difficult to hurry and watch for danger at the same time. I’ve noticed that people who put things off to the last minute and then have to hurry are quite apt to rush headlong into trouble. The way is clear now, so I am going to start. I can take my time and keep a proper watch for danger. I’ll see you over there in the morning, Peter.”
Danny turned and disappeared in one of his private little paths through the tall grass. Peter noticed that he was headed towards the Green Forest.
When Peter and the others arrived for school the next morning they found Whitefoot the Wood Mouse and Danny Meadow Mouse waiting with Old Mother Nature. Safe in her presence, they seemed to have lost much of their usual timidity. Whitefoot was sitting on the end of a log and Danny was on the ground just beneath him.
“I want all the rest of you to look well at these two little cousins and notice how unlike two cousins can be,” said Old Mother Nature. “Whitefoot, who is quite as often called Deer Mouse as Wood Mouse, is one of the prettiest of the entire Mouse family. I suspect he is called Deer Mouse because the upper part of his coat is such a beautiful fawn color. Notice that the upper side of his long slim tail is of the same color, while the under side is white, as is the whole under part of Whitefoot. Also those dainty feet are white, hence his name. See what big, soft black eyes he has, and notice that those delicate ears are of good size.
NIBBLER THE HOUSE MOUSE. [top] ROBBER THE BROWN RAT. [bottom] Here are two of the worst pests in the world. Neither is native to America. See pages 88 and 125.
“His tail is covered with short fine hairs, instead of being naked as is the tail of Nibbler the House Mouse, of whom I will tell you later. Whitefoot loves the Green Forest, but out in parts of the Far West where there is no Green Forest he lives on the brushy plains. He is a good climber and quite at home in the trees. There he seems almost like a tiny Squirrel. Tell us, Whitefoot, where you make your home and what you eat.”
“My home just now,” replied Whitefoot, “is in a certain hollow in a certain dead limb of a certain tree. I suspect that a member of the Woodpecker family made that hollow, but no one was living there when I found it. Mrs. Whitefoot and I have made a soft, warm nest there and wouldn’t trade homes with any one. We have had our home in a hollow log on the ground, in an old stump, in a hole we dug in the ground under a rock, and in an old nest of some bird. That was in a tall bush. We roofed that nest over and made a little round doorway on the under side. Once we raised a family in a box in a dark corner of Farmer Brown’s sugar camp.
“I eat all sorts of things,—seeds, nuts, insects and meat when I can get it. I store up food for winter, as all wise and thrifty people do.”
“I suppose that means that you do not sleep as Johnny Chuck does in winter,” remarked Peter Rabbit.
“I should say not!” exclaimed Whitefoot. “I like winter. It is fun to run about on the snow. Haven’t you ever seen my tracks, Peter?”
“I have, lots of times,” spoke up Jumper the Hare. “Also I’ve seen you skipping about after dark. I guess you don’t care much for sunlight.”
“I don’t,” replied Whitefoot. “I sleep most of the time during the day, and work and play at night. I feel safer then. But on dull days I often come out. It is the bright sunlight I don’t like. That is one reason I stick to the Green Forest. I don’t see how Cousin Danny stands it out there on the Green Meadows. Now I guess it is his turn.”
Every one looked at Danny Meadow Mouse. In appearance he was as unlike Whitefoot as it was possible to be and still be a Mouse. There was nothing pretty or graceful about Danny. He wasn’t dainty at all. His body was rather stout, looking stouter than it really was because his fur was quite long. His head was blunt, and he seemed to have no neck at all, though of course he did have one. His eyes were small, like little black beads. His ears were almost hidden in his hair. His legs were short and his tail was quite short, as if it had been cut off when half grown. No, those two cousins didn
’t look a bit alike. Danny felt most uncomfortable as the others compared him with pretty Whitefoot. He knew he was homely, but never before had he felt it quite so keenly. Old Mother Nature saw and understood.
“It isn’t how we look, but what we are and what we do and how we fit into our particular places in life that count,” said she. “Now, Danny is a homely little fellow, but I know, and I know that he knows, that he is just fitted for the life he lives, and he lives it more successfully for being just as he is.
“Danny is a lover of the fields and meadows where there is little else but grass in which to hide. Everything about him is just suited for living there. Isn’t that so, Danny?”
“Yes’m, I guess so,” replied Danny. “Sometimes my tail does seem dreadfully short to look well.”
Everybody laughed, even Danny himself. Then he remembered how once Reddy Fox had so nearly caught him that one of Reddy’s black paws had touched the tip of his tail. Had that tail been any longer Reddy would have caught him by it. Danny’s face cleared and he hastened to declare, “After all, my tail suits me just as it is.”
“Wisely spoken, Danny,” said Old Mother Nature. “Now it is your turn to tell how you live and what you eat and anything else of interest about yourself.”
“I guess there isn’t much interesting about me,” began Danny modestly. “I’m just one of the plain, common little folks. I guess everybody knows me so well there is nothing for me to tell.”
“Some of them may know all about you, but I don’t,” declared Jumper the Hare. “I never go out on the Green Meadows where you live. How do you get about in all that tall grass?”
“Oh, that’s easy enough,” replied Danny. “I cut little paths in all directions.”
The Burgess Animal Book for Children Page 9
