“Who is that can’t keep still five minutes?” demanded a new voice, and there was Billy Mink himself just climbing out on the Big Rock.
“Jerry was speaking of you,” replied Old Mother Nature. “This will be a good chance for you to show him that he is mistaken. I want you to stay here for a while and to stay right on the Big Rock. I may want to ask you a few questions.”
Just then Billy Mink dived into the Smiling Pool, and a second later his brown head popped out of the water and in his mouth was a fat fish. He scrambled back on the Big Rock and looked at Old Mother Nature a bit fearfully as he laid the fish down.
“I—I didn’t mean to disobey,” he mumbled; “I saw that fish and dived for him before I thought. I hope you will forgive me, Mother Nature. I won’t do it again.”
“Acting before thinking gets people into trouble sometimes,” replied Old Mother Nature. “However, I will forgive you this time. The fact is you have just shown your friends here something, I wanted them to see. Now, go ahead and eat that fish and be ready to answer questions.”
As Billy Mink sat there on the Big Rock every one had a good look at him. One glance would tell any one that he was a cousin of Shadow the Weasel. He was much larger than Shadow, but of the same general shape, being long and slender. His coat was a beautiful dark brown, darkest on the back. His chin was white. His tail was round, covered with fairly long hair which was so dark as to be almost black. His face was like that of Shadow the Weasel. His legs were rather short. As he sat eating that fish, his back was arched.
Old Mother Nature waited until he had finished his feast. “Now then, Billy,” said she, “I want you to answer a few questions. Which do you like best, night or day?”
“It doesn’t make any particular difference to me,” replied Billy; “I just sleep when I feel like it, whether it be night or day, and then when I wake up I can hunt. It all depends on how I feel.”
“When you go hunting, what do you hunt?” asked Old Mother Nature.
Billy grinned. “Anything that promises a good meal,” said he. “I’m not very particular. A fat Mouse, a tender young Rabbit, a Chipmunk, a Frog, Tadpoles, Chickens, eggs, birds, fish; whatever happens to be easiest to get suits me. I am rather fond of fish, and that’s one reason that I live along the Laughing Brook and around the Smiling Pool. But I like a change of fare, and so often I go hunting in the Green Forest. Sometimes I go up to Farmer Brown’s for a Chicken. In the spring I hunt for nests of birds on the ground. In winter, if Peter Rabbit should happen along here when I was hungry, I might be tempted to sample Peter.” Billy snapped his bright eyes wickedly and Peter shivered.
“If Jerry Muskrat were not my friend, I am afraid I might be tempted to sample him,” continued Billy Mink.
“Pooh!” exclaimed Peter Rabbit. “You wouldn’t dare tackle Jerry Muskrat.”
“Wouldn’t I?” replied Billy. “Just ask Jerry how he feels about it.”
One look at Jerry’s face showed everybody that Jerry, big as he was, was afraid of Billy Mink.
“How do you hunt when you are on land?” asked Old Mother Nature.
“The way every good hunter should hunt,—with eyes, nose and ears,” replied Billy. “There may be folks with better ears than I’ve got, but I don’t know who they are. I wouldn’t swap noses with anybody. As for my eyes, well, they are plenty good enough for me.”
“In other words, you hunt very much as does your cousin, Shadow the Weasel,” said Old Mother Nature.
Billy nodded. “I suppose I do,” said he, “but there’s one thing he does which I don’t do and that’s hunt just for the love of killing. Once in a while I may kill more than I can eat, but I don’t mean to. I hunt for food, while he hunts just for the love of killing.”
“You all saw how Billy catches fish,” said Old Mother Nature; “now, Billy, I want you to swim over to the farther bank and show us how you run.”
Billy obeyed. He slipped into the water, dived, swam under water for a distance, then swam with just his head out. When he reached the bank he climbed out and started along it. He went by a series of bounds, his back arched sharply between each leap. Then he disappeared before their very eyes, only to reappear as suddenly as he had gone. So quick were his movements that it was impossible for one of the little people watching to keep their eyes on him. It seemed sometimes as though he must have vanished into the air. Of course he didn’t. He was simply showing them his wonderful ability to take advantage of every little stick, stone and bush.
THE ARCTIC FOX. His coat is all white in the winter months. See page 187.
THE BLUE FOX. This is really a color phase of the Arctic Fox. See page 188.
“Billy is a great traveler,” said Old Mother Nature. He dearly loves to travel up and down the Laughing Brook, even for long distances. Wherever there is plenty of driftwood and rubbish, Billy is quite at home, being so slender he can slip under all kinds of places and into all sorts of holes. Quick as he is on land, he is not so quick as his Cousin Shadow; and good swimmer as he is, he isn’t so good as his bigger cousin, Little Joe Otter. But being equally at home on land and in water, he has an advantage over his cousins. Billy is much hunted for his fur, and being hunted so much has made him very keen-witted. Mrs. Billy makes her home nest in a hole in the bank or under an old stump or under a pile of driftwood, and you may be sure it is well hidden. There the babies are born, and they stay with their mother all summer. Incidentally, Billy can climb readily. Billy is found all over this great country of ours. When he lives in the Far North his fur is finer and thicker than when he lives in the South. I wish Little Joe Otter were here. I hoped he would be.”
“Here he comes now,” cried Jerry Muskrat. “I rather expected he would be back.” Jerry pointed towards where the Laughing Brook left the Smiling Pool on its way to the Big River. A brown head was moving rapidly towards them. There was no mistaking that head. It could belong to no one but Little Joe Otter. Straight on to the Big Rock he came, and climbed up. He was big, being one of the largest members of his family. He was more than three feet long. But no one looking at him could mistake him for any one but a member of the Weasel family. His legs were short, very short for the length of his body. His tail was fairly long and broad. His coat was a rich brown all over, a little lighter underneath than on the back.
“What’s going on here?” asked Little Joe Otter, his eyes bright with interest.
“We are holding a session of school here to-day,” explained Old Mother Nature. “And we were just hoping that you would appear. Hold up one of your feet and spread the toes, Little Joe.”
Little Joe Otter obeyed, though there was a funny, puzzled look on his face. “Whyee!” exclaimed Peter Rabbit. “His toes are webbed like those of Paddy the Beaver!”
“Of course they’re webbed,” said Little Joe; “I never could swim the way I do if they weren’t webbed.”
“Can you swim better than Paddy the Beaver?” asked Peter.
“I should say I can. If I couldn’t, I guess I would go hungry most of the time,” replied Little Joe.
“Why should you go hungry? Paddy doesn’t,” retorted Peter.
“Paddy doesn’t live on fish,” replied Little Joe. “I do and that’s the difference. I can catch a fish in a tail-end race, and that’s going some.”
“You might show us how you can swim,” suggested Old Mother Nature.
Little Joe slipped into the water. The Smiling Pool was very still and the little people sitting on the bank could look right down and see nearly to the bottom. They saw Little Joe as he entered the water and then saw little more than a brown streak. A second later his head popped out on the other side of the Smiling Pool.
“Phew, I’m glad I’m not a fish!” exclaimed Peter, and everybody laughed.
“You may well be glad,” said Old Mother Nature. “You wouldn’t stand much chance with Little Joe around. Like Billy Mink, Little Joe is a great traveler, especially up and down the Laughing Brook and the Big River. Sometime
s he travels over land, but he is so heavy and his legs are so short that traveling on land is slow work. When he does cross from one stream or pond to another, he always picks out the smoothest going. Sometimes in winter he travels quite a bit. Then when he comes to a smooth hill, he slides down it on his stomach. By the way, Little Joe, haven’t you a slippery slide somewhere around here?”
Little Joe nodded. “I’ve got one down the Laughing Brook where the bank is steep,” said he. “Mrs. Otter and I and our children slide every day.”
“What do you mean by a slippery slide?” asked Happy Jack Squirrel, who was sitting in the Big Hickory-tree which grew on the bank of the Smiling Pool.
Old Mother Nature smiled. “Little Joe Otter and his family are quite as fond of play as any of my children,” said she. “They get a lot of fun out of life. One of their ways of playing is to make a slippery slide where the bank is steep and the water deep. In winter it is made of snow, but in summer it is made of mud. There they slide down, splash into the water, then climb up the bank and do it all over again. In winter they make their slippery slide where the water doesn’t freeze, and they get just as much fun in winter as they do in summer.”
“I suppose that means that Little Joe doesn’t sleep in winter as Johnny Chuck does,” said Peter.
“I should say not,” exclaimed Little Joe. “I like the winter, too. I have such a warm coat that I never get cold. There are always places where the water doesn’t freeze. I can swim for long distances under ice and so I can always get plenty of food.”
“Do you eat anything but fish?” asked Peter Rabbit.
“Oh, sometimes,” replied Little Joe. “Once in a while I like a little fresh meat for a change, and sometimes when fish are scarce I eat Frogs, but I prefer fish, especially Salmon and Trout.”
“How many babies do you have at a time?” asked Happy Jack Squirrel.
“Usually one to three,” replied Little Joe, “and only one family a year. They are born in my comfortable house, which is a burrow in the bank. There Mrs. Otter makes a large, soft nest of leaves and grass. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I will go on up the Laughing Brook. Mrs. Otter is waiting for me up there.”
Old Mother Nature told Little Joe to go ahead. As he disappeared, she sighed. “I’m very fond of Little Joe Otter,” said she, “and it distresses me greatly that he is hunted by man as he is. That fur coat of his is valuable, and man is forever hunting him for it. The Otters were once numerous all over this great country, but now they are very scarce, and I am afraid that the day isn’t far away when there will be no Little Joe Otter. I think this will do for to-day. There are two other members of the Weasel family and these, like Little Joe and Billy Mink, are continually being hunted for their fur coats. I will tell you about them to-morrow.”
26. Spite the Marten and Pekan the Fisher
“THE two remaining members of the Weasel family none of you have ever seen,” began Old Mother Nature, when she opened school at the old meeting place in the Green Forest the morning after their visit to the Smiling Pool. “You have never seen them because they live in the deep forests of the Far North. But were you living up there, you would know them, and the dread of them would seldom be out of your mind. One is called Spite the Marten and the other Pekan the Fisher.
“Spite the Marten is also called the Pine Marten and the American Sable, and he is one of the handsomest members of the Weasel family. Shadow the Weasel can climb, but he spends most of his time on the ground. Jimmy Skunk and Digger the Badger are not climbers at all. Little Joe Otter spends most of his time in the water. But Spite the Marten is a lover of the tree tops, and is quite as much at home there as Chatterer the Red Squirrel.
“When he is moving about in the trees, he looks much like a very large Squirrel, while on the ground he might be mistaken for a young Fox. His coat is a rich, dark, yellowish-brown, becoming almost black on the tail and legs. His throat usually is yellow, though sometimes it is almost white. The sides of his face are grayish, and his good-sized ears are grayish-white on the inside. His tail is about half as long as his body and is covered with long hair, but isn’t bushy like a Squirrel’s. While his general shape is that of Shadow the Weasel, his body is much heavier in proportion to his size.
“Chatterer, you and your Cousin Happy Jack may well be thankful that Spite the Marten doesn’t live about here, for he is very fond of Squirrels and delights to hunt them. He can leap from tree to tree quite as easily as either of you, and the only possible means of escape for a Squirrel he is hunting is a hole too small for Spite to get into. No Squirrel is more graceful in the trees than is Spite.
“But he by no means confines himself to the trees. He is quite at home on the ground, and there he moves with much of the quickness of Shadow the Weasel. He delights to hunt Rabbits and he covers great distances, being even more of a traveler than Billy Mink. He doesn’t kill for the love of killing, but merely for food. If he kills more than he can eat at a meal he buries it, and when he is hungry again he returns to it. Like all the other members of his family, he is a great hunter of Mice. Also he catches many birds, especially those birds which nest on the ground. Birds, eggs, Frogs, Toads, some insects and fish vary his bill of fare. But unlike his smaller cousins, he eats some other things besides flesh, including certain nuts, berries and honey.
“He isn’t in the least social with his own kind, but prefers to live alone and is always ready to fight if he meets another Marten. Being so great a traveler he has several dens. Mrs. Spite makes her nest of grass and moss in a hollow tree as a rule, occasionally in a hole in the ground. She has from one to five babies in the spring. Spite is not a good father, for he has nothing to do with his family.
“As I told you in the beginning he is found only in the great forests of the North. The darker and deeper they are, the better it suits him. His own cousin, Pekan the Fisher, and Tufty the Lynx, are probably the only natural enemies he has much cause to fear. His one great enemy is man. His coat is one of the most highly prized of all furs and he is persistently hunted and trapped. In fact, his coat is one of the chief prizes of the fur trappers.
“In this same deep, dark forest clear across the northern part of the country lives Pekan the Fisher, also called the Pennant Marten and Blackcat. He is larger and heavier than Spite the Marten and his coat is a brownish-black, light on the sides, and browner below. His nose, ears, feet and tail are black. He gets his name of Blackcat from his resemblance to a Cat with a bushy tail, though on the ground he looks more like a black Fox. Like his cousin, Spite the Marten, he lives in the pine and spruce forests and prefers to be near swamps. He is a splendid climber but spends quite as much time on the ground. However, he is even livelier in the trees than is Spite the Marten. Spite can catch a Squirrel in the tree tops, but Pekan can catch Spite, and often does. He isn’t afraid of leaping to the ground from high up in a tree, and often when coming down a tree he comes down head-first. He is very fond of hunting the cousins of Jumper the Hare and is so tireless that he can run them down. He is very clever and, like his cousin, Glutton the Wolverine, makes no end of trouble for trappers by stealing the baits from their traps.
OLD MAN COYOTE. The Prairie Wolf who is as clever as Reddy Fox. See page 190.
HOWLER THE WOLF. The Timber or Gray Wolf, so long dreaded by man. See page 191.
“You all remember how frightened Prickly Porky was when I merely mentioned Pekan the Fisher. It was because Pekan is almost the only one Prickly Porky has reason to fear. If Pekan is hungry he doesn’t hesitate to dine on Porcupine. He has learned how to turn a Porcupine on his back, and, as you have already found out, the under part of the Porcupine is unprotected.
“Just why Pekan should be called Fisher, I don’t know. True, he eats fish when he can get them, but he isn’t a water animal and doesn’t go fishing as do Billy Mink and Little Joe Otter. His food is much the same as that of Spite the Marten. He is especially fond of Rabbit and Hare. He is so strong and savage that he can kill a Fo
x and often does. Bobby Coon is a good fighter and much bigger and heavier than Pekan, but he is no match for Pekan.
“Probably all of you have guessed that being a true Marten, Pekan’s coat is highly prized by the fur trappers. He hates the presence of man and with good cause.
“Now this ends the Weasel family, but that’s only one family of the order of Carnivora, or flesh eaters. There is one family you all know so well that I think we will take that up next. It is the family to which Reddy Fox and Old Man Coyote belong, and it is called the Dog family.
“To-morrow morning when you get here, I may have a surprise for you.”
27. Reddy Fox Joins the School
WHEN school was called to order the following morning not one was missing. You see, with the exception of Jimmy Skunk and Prickly Porky, there was not one in whose life Reddy Fox did not have a most important part. Even Happy Jack the Gray Squirrel and Chatterer the Red Squirrel, tree folk though they were, had many times narrowly missed furnishing Reddy with a dinner. As for Johnny Chuck and Peter Rabbit and Jumper the Hare and Striped Chipmunk and Danny Meadow Mouse and Whitefoot the Wood Mouse, there were few hours of day or night when they did not have Reddy in mind, knowing that to forget him even for a few minutes might mean the end of them.
Just imagine the feelings of these little people when, just as they had comfortably seated themselves for the morning lesson, Reddy himself stepped out from behind a tree. Never before was a school so quickly broken up. In the winking of an eye Old Mother Nature was alone, save for Reddy Fox, Jimmy Skunk, and in the trees Prickly Porky the Porcupine and Happy Jack and Chatterer.
The Burgess Animal Book for Children Page 15
