Chapter VII: A Test of Wits 51 (2)

But, of course, this didn’t help Bumper any. The water was very deep where he had fallen in, and there wasn’t the sign of anything that could be used as a raft. Could he swim? Not much! By frantic efforts he could keep his head above water. Nearly every wild animal can do this even when a tiny baby. But that wouldn’t get him to the shore until he was exhausted.

But just when he was beginning to feel that he would drown his hind feet touched something. It was a big rock in the middle of the stream which could not be seen from the spring-board or the shore. Bumper found that by standing on his two hind feet on the rock, he could just keep his head and neck above the surface. This gave him sudden courage, and a thought. He stood stock still on the rock, and turned to the one who had thrown him in.

“It is much more dignified for a king to float upright, Spotted Tail,” he said, “than to swim. Can you stand in the water like this?”

Spotted Tail and the others were amazed by the sight of Bumper standing perfectly still in the deep water, with his head and neck just above the surface.

“Come now, Spotted Tail, you have challenged me to everything you could think of,” continued Bumper. “Now it is your turn to accept my challenge. Either show me that you can stand in the deep water, or desist from further attempts to humiliate me. You must do one or the other, or I shall hold your challenges in contempt hereafter.”

Of course, Spotted Tail knew he could never perform this miracle, and he was at a loss to understand how Bumper could do it. “Then,” continued Bumper when he showed no intention of coming in, “you are disgraced before all of your people.”

All the while Bumper had been watching for a way to get ashore. He had been feeling with his hind legs for other rocks in the deep river. To his joy he found one, and quickly stepped to it. There was a series of stepping-stones, which hunters used to cross the river when it was shallow. They were hidden from view now by the flood. Bumper made his way cautiously from one to the other until he reached shallow water, and then he hopped gracefully ashore, much to Spotted Tail’s chagrin.

STORY VIII
SPOTTED TAIL STIRS UP REVOLT

Spotted Tail was in disgrace. Not only had he wickedly thrown Bumper into the deep water in full view of all the others, but he had refused to accept the first challenge made to him. He knew that he could never live down both. One was enough to bring him into contempt, but the two together practically robbed him of all further influence among his people.

But instead of accepting his disgrace in a contrite spirit, he became moody and sullen. When the others, including Fuzzy Wuzz, avoided him, and passed him in silence, he gnashed his teeth in a fine rage.

Then he very naturally laid all the blame to Bumper, excusing himself from any guilt. This did not improve his manners any, and finally, satisfied that he could get no sympathy in his home burrow, he decided to seek revenge outside.

He would spread the tale among all his people in the woods that the white rabbit was a fraud, and that it was his intention to make them all submit to his rule. This would naturally cause general anger, and perhaps stir up a revolt. The coming of Bumper in the woods had not reached far. Rumors spread slowly unless taken up by the birds, and Bumper had made no attempt to interest them in his cause. He was too busy learning the ways of the woods and the duties of a king and leader.

Spotted Tail decided to get ahead of him and spread the news first, distorting it to suit his purpose. He appealed to Rusty the Blackbird first. “Rusty, you’ve always been a friend of mine,” he said, meeting him one day. “Now, will you do me a great favor?”

“Tell me what it is first, Spotted Tail,” was the reply.

“It is this, Rusty. Bumper the White Rabbit has come into the woods from somewhere, and proclaimed himself king of all the rabbits. He is a cruel king, and intends to wage warfare upon all the burrows that do not submit to his rule. I want you to spread the news all over the woods, and warn all leaders of burrows to rise in revolt.”

Rusty looked at the speaker, and flirted his wings. “No, no, Spotted Tail,” he replied. “I’m no carrier of evil messages. Besides, I’ve met Bumper the White Rabbit, and I liked him. He didn’t seem to me cruel or a bad sort of fellow.”

Spotted Tail appealed next to Mr. Woodpecker, who listened to his story in silence, and then tapped the trunk of a tree with his long, hard bill. “No, no, no!” he said, keeping time with his taps. “I don’t believe your story, Spotted Tail. Bumper’s not that kind. Good-bye.”

Spotted Tail looked disappointed. He was very sore and grouchy. It seemed as if the birds as well as the rabbits were all against him. Why did they all like Bumper the White Rabbit so much?

He met Towhee the Chewink next, and approached her with a smile and friendly greeting, but when he had stated his grievance, and made his request, modest little Towhee laughed in his face.

“I’ve got better business than spreading such news,” she replied. “You’ll have to find another messenger.”

In turn Spotted Tail approached Piney the Purple Finch, Mrs. Phœbe Bird and Mr. Crested Flycatcher, and received from each one the same reply. None of them would undertake the work of stirring up a revolt against Bumper.

He was in despair, and was bemoaning his luck when suddenly a voice startled him. “What’s the matter, Spotted Tail? You look black enough to obscure the sun.”

It was Shrike the Butcher Bird, whose very name made him dreaded and hated. Shrike had the unpleasant habit of catching insects, lizards, frogs, and sometimes small birds, and sticking them on thorns until he or his mate was ready to eat them. This disgusting and cruel habit made him an outcast among the birds, and very few would have anything to do with him. Naturally, it soured his disposition, and made him irritable and unfriendly.

Spotted Tail looked up and a gleam of hope entered his eyes. Why not ask the Shrike to spread the message that would stir up trouble? By so doing he would accomplish two things. He would get even with the birds who had refused to listen to his plea, and accomplish the downfall of Bumper.

“I have enough trouble to make me look blue,” Spotted Tail replied. “Even the brightness of the sun doesn’t make me feel happy.”

“It must be trouble indeed, then,” laughed the Shrike, “for it’s a beautiful day, and everybody else feels happy. What is it?”

“Alack! And alas!” sighed the rabbit. “I’m afraid you won’t sympathize with me any more than Mr. Woodpecker or Rusty the Blackbird or any of the others. I have told my tale to them, and they only laught at me.”

A wicked gleam flashed from the eyes of Shrike the Butcher Bird. “Rusty and Mr. Woodpecker are self-conceited birds, and what they think don’t amount to much. Little I’d care what they said or did.”

“But they won’t carry my message,” added Spotted Tail. “And if no one will do it how can I save the rabbits of the woods from the terrible thing that is coming to them?”

“What is this terrible thing?” queried the Shrike, growing interested.

“It’s about Bumper the White Rabbit,” continued the dejected rabbit, sighing heavily. “He has come into the woods to rule over all my people, and he is a cruel, selfish king. He intends to make all of us his slaves. He won’t listen to reason, but says he’s appointed to rule, and any one who disputes his right he will drive from the woods.”

The Shrike smiled. “Why don’t you drive him from the woods?” he asked. “I never knew you to be afraid of anything. I’d quickly put an end to his rule.”

“Quite right, Mr. Shrike. I would do it if it was only Bumper I had to fight. But he has come into our burrow, and by tricks and strange ways won over Old Blind Rabbit, Fuzzy Wuzz, Goggle Eyes, and all the others. They’re going to help him to rule in the woods.”

“Ah! Hum!” mused the Shrike. “So that’s the trouble! You’re the only good rabbit in the burrow?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that,” protested Spotted Tail. “I’m no better than the others, but he couldn’t deceive me. I saw through his tricks, and because I opposed him I’m in disfavor.”

“And what is this message you want me to carry to the rest of the rabbits in the woods?”

“I wish to put them on their guard so Bumper cannot deceive them. If they would rise in their might they could overwhelm him even if all my family backed him up. If a revolt isn’t begun right away, he will win them by degrees, and then it will be too late.”

“And Rusty and Mr. Woodpecker refused to carry the message?” queried the Shrike.

“Yes,” sighed Spotted Tail. “I don’t believe they like me. I’ve never been very friendly with the birds.”

Shrike the Butcher Bird hesitated for a moment to impale a worm on a thorn for future use, and then said:

“All right, Spotted Tail. I’ll carry the message to every rabbit burrow in the woods.”

“Oh, Shrike, you’re so kind!” exclaimed Spotted Tail; but the bird interrupted him with a harsh laugh.

“It isn’t because I like you, Spotted Tail,” he said, “that I’m doing this, but just to spite the other birds. I’ll punish them for scorning and disliking me. That’s why I do it. Good-bye! I’ll begin spreading the news right away.”

STORY IX
THE WORK OF SHRIKE THE BUTCHER BIRD

Shrike the Butcher Bird was as good as his word. He was a vindictive bird, and it actually gave him pleasure in spreading Spotted Tail’s message because all the other birds had refused. First he went to White Tail at the far end of the woods, for he knew that White Tail was a big rabbit who, at one time, had had trouble with the Old Blind Rabbit.

“Oh, White Tail,” called the Shrike, “here is news for you! Bumper the White Rabbit has been proclaimed king of the woods by Old Blind Rabbit, and he intends to make all of you his slaves.”

White Tail reared himself on his hind legs, and clicked his teeth. “If you’d come with good news, Shrike, I wouldn’t have believed you; but as the carrier of bad news I think there must be something in it. Who sent you?”

“Spotted Tail.”

“Ah! Spotted Tail! I never did like him, but I never knew him to spread false news. If Bumper comes to interfere with my family, he will—Well,” leering, “I will tell him what I think of him. Good-day, Shrike, and much obliged for your trouble.”

Next, Shrike the Butcher Bird interviewed Brindley the Lame, so named because of a limp he had from infancy. Brindley was a good-natured rabbit, and ruled over his burrow with kindness, and was loved wherever he went.

“Ah, Brindley!” cried Shrike, when he met him in front of his burrow sunning himself. “You look well to-day, and as fat as butter. Too bad to spoil your rest with bad news.”

“Bad news never spoil my rest,” was the grinning reply. “I always sleep over it, and then when I wake up I find it isn’t so bad as it seemed.”

“Well, you’ll think differently when I tell you this. All the rabbits in the woods are rising in revolt against Bumper the White Rabbit that has come here to rule over them as king.”

“Indeed! Who are all the rabbits you speak of?”

“Spotted Tail, White Tail, and many others.”

“Ah! Um!” sighed Brindley. “Then Bumper’d better look out. I wouldn’t want to be wearing his crown.”

“But aren’t you going to join the revolt?” asked the Shrike. “Or are you so good-natured you’d submit to any tyrant who came along?”

“I’m never so good-natured as when I’m thinking seriously, Shrike,” was the retort. “Now, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll sleep over it, and then I won’t do anything hasty.”

There was Crooked Ears, a big rabbit who ruled over a family of twenty in a burrow buried deep under the cliff; Pink Nose, whose family was noted for the remarkably pinkish tinge that decorated the tips of their noses; and Rolly Polly, who was so round and fat that he could roll down a hill faster than he could run. They lived in different parts of the woods, and it took all the morning for the Shrike to find them and spread the news.

They accepted the tale with different degrees of surprise and distrust. Rolly Polly was too fat and pleasant to let it worry him much, and Pink Nose was more interested in what Bumper looked like than his mission in the woods. When the Shrike explained that he was a pure white rabbit, with pink eyes, Pink Nose eagerly asked:

“What’s the color of his nose?”

Knowing his fondness for pink-nosed rabbits, and fearing that he might claim kinship with Bumper if he said he had a pink nose, Shrike purposely stretched the truth.

“It is all white, the same as his fur—everything white except his pink eyes.”

Pink Nose looked disappointed. “I wish he had a pink nose,” he said sadly. “Then I’d know he was related to me.”

“Pink! Oh! Ho!” laughed the Shrike. “He hates pink-nosed rabbits.”

“Who told you that?” snapped Pink Nose.

“Spotted Tail!” he lied without blinking.

Pink Nose’s eyes turned a dark green, and the Shrike flew away, knowing that he had planted the seeds of discord in the mind of a perfectly good-natured rabbit.

Crooked Ears was a big surly rabbit, whose disposition had been spoilt when very young by an accident which had twisted his ears so they looked more like pretzels than anything else. The Shrike was quick to detect Crooked Ears’ weak point. He was forever trying to hide his crooked ears, and he lay stretched out in the sun with his paws drawn up over them as if ashamed to have any one see them.

The Shrike told him the news, but Crooked Ears said peevishly: “Oh, go away! Don’t disturb me now. I’m very sleepy.”

The Shrike whistled and fluttered his tail feathers in disdain. “All right, Crooked Ears,” he added. “I thought you’d like to know of the revolt, and of Bumper’s threat.”

“What was his threat?” asked Crooked Ears, sleepily.

“That he’d bite and twist the ears of every rabbit that opposed him until they all looked like yours.”

“He said that!” growled Crooked Ears, rising. “He made fun of my ears!”

“Made fun of them! Oh! Ho! What a joke! Listen, Crooked Ears, and I’ll tell you what he said about them.”

Crooked Ears seemed to be all ears now, for his anger was aroused. “He said,” continued the Shrike, “that all rabbits with crooked ears should be run from the woods. They were not fit to live with rabbits that had good, straight ears. Does that interest you?”

“I don’t believe you!” snapped Crooked Ears, but the Shrike only laughed shrilly, and flew away to find another burrow. He knew that he had angered Crooked Ears and poisoned his mind against Bumper.

All the day he flew from burrow to burrow, spreading the evil news, until by night every rabbit in the woods knew of Bumper’s coming, and believed that he was going to declare himself king and make every one of his people a slave. There was a pow-wow that night in every burrow, and the talk of what to do ran high. Some were angry and indignant; others more amused than angry, and a few so belligerent that they wanted to set out on the war path at once.

When the Shrike returned to Spotted Tail, he gleefully told all that he had done, and seemed greatly amused by the latter’s joy. Spotted Tail thanked him over and over again until the Shrike’s amusement was uncontrollable. He laughed and whistled as if it were a very great joke. Then, cocking his head sideways, he added:

“You needn’t thank me, Spotted Tail, for I didn’t do it to please you. It was just to spite the other birds.”

“Just the same you have done me a great favor, and I’m grateful for it,” was the answer.

“Favor! Favor, you call it! Ha! Ha! Ha! Wait and see, Spotted Tail. My mission isn’t done yet.”

“You haven’t told all the rabbits?”

“Yes, and now I’m going to tell all the animals—Buster the Bear, Mr. Fox, Billy the Mink, Washer the Raccoon, and all the others. There’ll be a right merry time when they see you fighting among yourselves. I think Mr. Fox and Buster may take a hand in it. What a chance they’ll have for a good meal!”

And still laughing shrilly, he flew away, leaving Spotted Tail in a very unpleasant frame of mind. Suppose the other animals should take advantage of the revolt to pounce upon the rabbits. How much innocent blood would be spilled because of his trickery!

STORY X
RUSTY WARNS BUMPER

Of course, Bumper knew nothing about the revolt that Spotted Tail had stirred up in the woods against him. After all, he felt a little sympathy for Spotted Tail when all the others began to ignore him and give him the cold shoulder. But really there was nothing he could do, for Spotted Tail had brought the trouble all on himself because of his envy and spite.

“Being a king isn’t all lettuce and carrots,” sighed Bumper. “I’m not sure but I’d rather be just Fuzzy Wuzz, who smiles and laughs all day, or even Goggle Eyes, who eats altogether too much for himself, but seems to enjoy it.”

“Then there’s so much a king has to know,” he added a moment later. “I’m learning all the time new things, but what I don’t know yet frightens me. I wish sometimes I could take a vacation, and just go off and forget everything. I wonder why kings don’t have vacations.”

Such a thing as a vacation for a king was unheard of, although all of the rest could take any day they chose. Bumper couldn’t even steal out of the burrow alone for a little run without somebody going with him. The king had to be watched and accompanied all the time.

Now Old Blind Rabbit, in proclaiming Bumper the White Rabbit king, had thought first of only his own family, for he had no control over the other burrows; but he was so well known for his wisdom and age that the leaders of other burrows would listen to his words. He had wanted to keep Bumper’s coming a secret until he was sure that he had made no mistake in choosing him.

But now he thought was a good time to take him around to his friends—Brindley the Lame, Pink Nose, Rolly Polly and Crooked Ears. He wanted them to meet Bumper and judge for themselves. As leaders of their families, they knew the prophecy of the coming of a white rabbit, who some day would rule over all their people and redeem them from their weak ways.

“Bumper, my days are numbered, but yours are as many as the trees in the woods,” he said to the White Rabbit. “Before I go I want to see you accepted as king by Pink Nose, Rolly Polly, Crooked Ears, Brindley the Lame and White Tail. Then I can die in peace.”

Bumper nodded his head, and asked who all these important people were.

“They are leaders of big families here in the woods, and very influential. If they accept you all the other rabbits will follow.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then I fear there will be trouble. You cannot rule over a divided people and make them happy.”

This bit of wisdom could not be disputed, and Bumper added sadly: “Neither can the ruler be happy.”

“Well said, Bumper. But the time has come now when we must call on them. I shall take you in person, and explain to White Tail and the others the meaning of our call.”

This idea rather frightened Bumper. To meet so many important leaders, and carry himself as a king should, made him feel like quitting. Just for an instant he thought of the red-headed girl and her wonderful garden, and wished he was back with her. How delightful it would be to do nothing all day long but eat and receive her petting! He even thought he might be happier with the old woman back in the city.

But only for an instant did his thoughts thus play truant. He was a king now, with duties to perform, and he wasn’t going to prove unequal to them. Bumper had very fine qualities, which, after all, fitted him for a ruler more than his pink eyes and white fur. Goodness and wisdom were better than fine clothes.

Bumper had been learning rapidly the ways of his people in the woods, and he was quite familiar with many things that had before startled him. He had learned to know the difference between the good and bad plants, so there was no longer any danger of his poisoning himself. He had met Washer the Raccoon, and had made the acquaintance of Sleepy the Opossum. He was on good speaking terms with Mr. Beaver, and Billy the Mink had put himself out to compare his fur with his own beautiful coat.

He knew every trail in the woods, and could scent Mr. Fox from afar. He had even learned to swim, which he considered necessary for his health. The birds were his friends, and he had learned much from them. Frequently they brought him news which guided him in his work.

A few days after the Old Blind Rabbit had announced his intention of introducing Bumper to White Tail and the others, Rusty the Black Bird appeared near the burrow, and perched himself on the top of the rock until the white rabbit appeared.

“Hello, Bumper!” he called.

“Good-morning, Rusty!” replied Bumper. “It’s a long time since I’ve seen you.”

“If you’d arrange to see me oftener,” was the retort, “you wouldn’t get in so much trouble.”

“Thank you, Rusty, but I didn’t know I was in trouble.”

“Huh!” whistled Rusty. “Some people don’t know when they are in trouble.”

“Then it shouldn’t bother them,” laughed Bumper. “If you don’t know you have any trouble, why worry?”

“That may be good enough for a king, but it would never do for common people. We must be hunting for trouble all the time to avoid it.”

“If you hunt for it you’ll generally find it. No, I don’t believe in looking for what you don’t want.”

Rusty was a little provoked at what he took as a personal rebuke, and was half inclined to fly away; but Bumper’s smile changed his mind.

“Just to show you that trouble comes whether you hunt for it or not, I’m going to tell you something,” he added. “You’re going to be in a peck of trouble soon, Bumper.”

“That’s much better than being in a bushel, isn’t it?” he laughed.

“Oh, stop your joking, and be serious. This is a serious matter for you.”

“All right, I’m listening.”

“Well, then, Spotted Tail has been spreading false rumors about you. He asked me to carry the message, but I refused, and he asked Mr. Woodpecker and Towhee the Chewink. They told me so. But they wouldn’t listen to him.”

“I’m very grateful for that, and you can tell Towhee and Mr. Woodpecker so. But if nobody carried the news how did it get abroad?”

“Mr. Shrike the Butcher Bird carried it just because we wouldn’t. And after telling all the rabbits he told the news to Mr. Fox and Buster the Bear.”

“What is the news he told?” asked Bumper, gravely.

In a few words Rusty told him, and when he was through Bumper was graver than before. It pained him to think that Spotted Tail would betray him, and it made him sad to believe that his words could stir up discord among the rabbits.

“Thank you, Rusty,” he said in conclusion. “I’m glad to know it. Forewarned is forearmed.”

“Oh! Ho!” laughed Rusty. “Now you begin to change your mind about trouble. But you don’t have to hunt for it. It’s coming soon. It’s here now!”

STORY XI
THE RABBITS RISE AGAINST BUMPER

Forewarned by Rusty, Bumper was partly prepared for the trouble that was brewing, but not so Old Blind Rabbit. Bumper had intended to tell him the truth, but he didn’t want to raise unnecessary alarm. Perhaps, after all, Rusty had exaggerated the danger, and nothing would come of Spotted Tail’s work.

So one morning he was greatly disturbed when there was a noise outside the burrow made by the pattering of many little feet. It was Goggle Eyes who brought the information in to Old Blind Rabbit.

“There is something in the wind, Old Blind Rabbit!” he exclaimed in excitement. “All the rabbits of the woods have come to visit us. There’s White Tail, with his huge family; Pink Nose and all his big sons; Crooked Ears, looking surly and angry; Brindley the Lame, Rolly Polly, and—oh!—many, many more!”

Old Blind Rabbit did not get excited. It was the way with him. Instead of always looking for trouble, he expected the best of everything.

“Perhaps it means,” he replied, after a moment’s thought, “that they have heard of Bumper’s coming, and they have come to meet him. I shall go out and see them. They’re all welcome.”

“They don’t look very friendly,” stammered Goggle Eyes. “They look and act positively rude. I don’t believe their coming is for any good.”

“Tut! Tut! You’re always looking for the worst, Goggle Eyes. Now I’ll go out and greet my brother leaders. Lend me a paw, Goggle Eyes.”

“No,” interrupted Bumper, who had heard the conversation. “You must let me go out first. I’ll speak to them, and if there’s trouble—”

“Spoken like a king, Bumper,” interrupted Old Blind Rabbit, “but I should meet White Tail and his friends first. They know me.”

“Listen!” added Bumper. “I have not told you before because I didn’t believe anything would come of it. But there may be trouble outside.”

“What trouble, Bumper? You mustn’t follow the ways of Goggle Eyes, and look for evil in everything.”

Bumper knew that he ought to tell, and straightway, without hesitation, he related all that Rusty had told him. Old Blind Rabbit listened in silence, but not without surprise and trembling.

“Where is Spotted Tail?” he asked in a voice of thunder when Bumper had finished.

Spotted Tail was nowhere around. Nobody knew where he was.

“He has betrayed us!” added Old Blind Rabbit, solemnly. “He has spread false news to our friends, and used Shrike the Butcher Bird as his messenger. Alack! And alas! that I should live to see this day!”

For a moment Old Blind Rabbit dropped back on his haunches and looked very sad and depressed. His age told on him, and his breath came slow and hard. Finally arousing himself, he continued:

“If Spotted Tail has stirred up a revolt, the truth must be told. I will see the leaders. They will listen to me.”

“No, let me go!” interrupted Bumper again. “If there’s any danger on my account, I must face it, and not you, Old Blind Rabbit.”

“They will not harm me, but in their passion they might do something to you, Bumper. It is the part of wisdom that I should see them first. Isn’t it so?”

All the others agreed to this, and much against his will Bumper stayed in the burrow, while Old Blind Rabbit was led outside by Goggle Eyes.

And what a sight it was outside the burrow! All the wild rabbits of the woods were assembled there. White Tail, Pink Nose, Crooked Ears, Brindley the Lame, Rolly Polly and a lot of other leaders were there with all their followers. The woods around the rock were literally alive with rabbits.

They were packed ten deep around the big rock, and scattered in groups all through the surrounding bushes. And on every face there was an angry, defiant look, and in every eye sullen discontent. Old Blind Rabbit could not see all these sights, but he sensed them before any one spoke. Then a babel of sounds greeted his ears. They were so many, and so confusing, that nobody could understand anybody else.

Finally Old Blind Rabbit reared himself on his haunches, and raised a paw for silence. “Listen,” he called. “There’s no sense in jabbering like silly babies. What is the trouble? Don’t all speak at once, but—”

“Where’s Bumper the White Rabbit!” they shouted back in unison.

Once more the senseless chatter made the air ring until Brindley the Lame took a tree stump and signalled for silence. “This isn’t a tea party,” he said, smiling, “and we shouldn’t waste time talking like a lot of magpies. Let some of the leaders speak for all.”

There was instant silence, and hundreds of heads were nodded. Brindley then continued:

“As for my part, I’m not sure but we’re all here on a fool’s errand. I never knew the Shrike to carry news that did any one good. However, we’re here, and a big crowd we are. We’ve brought all of our families with us, big and little, and I’m glad to see them—Mrs. White Tail with her children, and Mrs. Pink Nose—”

Brindley’s jollying pleased the younger rabbits, and they began to laugh and applaud; but not so the leaders. Crooked Ears rose up, and interrupted.

“Come to the point, Brindley! We’re here to drive Bumper the White Rabbit from the woods. That’s the long and short of it. Am I not right?”

A terrifying shout greeted these words, and for a moment it seemed as if bedlam had broken loose. Even Old Blind Rabbit was frightened, and he trembled so that Goggle Eyes was afraid he would fall down.

“What has Bumper done that you should want to drive him from the woods?” was all that Old Blind Rabbit could say.

“It’s not what he’s done,” roared White Tail, leaping to the top of a fallen tree. “It’s what he’s going to do. He’ll not be king of the woods!”

“NO! No!” shouted a hundred voices. “We’ll not be his slaves! We’ll not follow him!”

“Listen, friends!” Old Blind Rabbit called back. “You have been deceived. Spotted Tail has spread false rumors. He knew they were false, and he couldn’t get Rusty or Mr. Woodpecker or Towhee or any of the birds, who were his friends, to carry the message to you. Then when they all failed him he appealed to Shrike the Butcher Bird.”

He paused, and looked with his sightless eyes over the big assemble. Then, raising his voice, he continued: “Since when have you come to believe what Shrike tells! When has he ever spread anything but lies in the woods? He has no friends among the birds—”

Suddenly there was a commotion on the outskirts of the crowd. Shrike flew in their midst and whistled sharply. Then out of the bushes crashed Buster the Bear, followed by Mr. Fox. Screams and shouts went up from all sides as every rabbit scurried for cover. They ran pell-mell hither and thither, with Mr. Fox and Buster after them, laughing in their glee at the fright they had caused.

It was a miracle that some were not killed, for it hardly seemed there were enough hiding-places in the woods to conceal them. Old Blind Rabbit stumbled back in his burrow, and invited as many to follow him as the place would hold.

STORY XII
SPOTTED TAIL RECEIVES HIS PUNISHMENT

Yes, it was certainly a miracle that there wasn’t a great slaughter of rabbits in the woods when Buster and Mr. Fox broke up the huge assemble! To this day they marvel at it. The only explanation the leaders could give was that Mr. Fox and Buster the Bear were more interested in frightening them than in killing. So they bowled over as many as they could, and didn’t stop to bite any of them.

What a crowded house Old Blind Rabbit had, though! Every rabbit who could squeeze through the doorway had followed him in the burrow. It was the most mixed audience ever gathered in one burrow.

There were followers of Pink Nose huddling alongside of Rolly Polly’s family, and Brindley the Lame was crowded next to White Tail. They were packed in so tight that it was difficult for any one to move.

Bumper was crowded way in back alongside Fuzzy Wuzz. Not understanding the great noise, Bumper had at first stood by the entrance to fight back any intruders that followed Old Blind Rabbit. He thought they were crowding in the burrow to get him.

But Goggle Eyes and Fuzzy Wuzz understood his mistake, and they took him by the paws and forced him to the back part of the burrow. “It’s Mr. Fox and Buster the Bear!” cried Fuzzy Wuzz in his ears.

Bumper understood immediately, and his wrath turned to kindness. He helped to make room for all the strangers that came pell-mell in the burrow. The excitement didn’t quiet down at once. Shivering with terror at their narrow escape, every one squealed, and tried to talk at once.

There was danger of the little ones being trampled upon and hurt until the leaders began to get their senses back. “Stop crowding!” shouted White Tail. “We’re safe in here! Now every one keep quiet while we think.”

It was so quiet that one could almost hear their thoughts, but they were so confused that it wouldn’t have done much good. No one could have made head or tail out of them. It was Old Blind Rabbit who first got over his scare, and came to his senses.

“How many are here?” he asked, turning to the others for an answer to his question.

“So many we can’t count them,” replied Goggle Eyes. “My, I was never in such a crowd before in all my life!”

“Is White Tail here?” continued Old Blind Rabbit.

“Yes, I squeezed in at the last minute, and lost a handful of fur in doing it.”

“And Pink Nose?”

“Here!” came the answer from a corner.

“And Brindley the Lame?” continued Old Blind Rabbit, as if calling the roll of all his friends.

“Here!”

“Rolly Polly?”

“Here!”

“Crooked Ears?”

“Here!”

Old Blind Rabbit stopped for a moment.

“Now, as there is no danger of further interruption by Mr. Fox or Buster,” he added finally, “we might proceed with our business. We were talking about Shrike the Butcher Bird when we were interrupted. I asked you then when had Shrike carried other than lies and evil news.”

“Never!” shouted some one, and others started up with various cries. “He deceived us! He summoned Mr. Fox and Buster the Bear to kill us! I shall never believe him again!”

A faint smile spread over Old Blind Rabbit’s face.

“Then, if that’s true,” he continued, “how can you believe the rumors he spread in the woods about Bumper the White Rabbit? Were they not lies too?”

This question caused a sudden sensation. No one had quite thought of this. If Shrike had betrayed them to Mr. Fox and Buster, why could it not be true that the whole story was part of a trick made up by him?

“But Spotted Tail sent the news by him,” said White Tail suddenly.

“Shrike said so, but did you see Spotted Tail himself?” asked Old Blind Rabbit.

“Why, no, I didn’t see him,” replied White Tail.

“Nor I! Nor I!” spoke up Pink Nose, Rolly Polly, and all the others in turn.

“Then,” resumed Old Blind Rabbit, “how do we know that the whole story wasn’t invented by Shrike to stir up trouble?”

“That’s so,” laughed Brindley. “I never thought of that. But where’s Spotted Tail? Let him speak for himself.”

This was just the thing that Spotted Tail, crouching and trembling in a corner, dreaded the most. He was so shaken and horrified by the result of his treachery that he had to be pushed forward when they called him.

“Tell us the truth, Spotted Tail,” said Old Blind Rabbit severely. “You’re on trial now.”

There is some good even in the worst of us, and although Spotted Tail had done many wicked things, he still possessed a sense of honor. He could have lied out of it, and declared his innocence, for no one had direct evidence that he had started the wicked stories, except the birds. Yes, he could easily have cleared his skirts by declaring that Shrike had made up the whole story, and that he knew nothing of it.

But he was frightened and repentant. He was no longer defiant. He looked so humiliated that some of the gentler rabbits pitied him.

“I’ll tell the truth,” he stammered finally. “I did start the story, and ask Shrike to spread it. I was jealous of Bumper, and wanted to have him driven from the woods. I am sorry now, but that won’t help what’s happened.”

“No,” replied Old Blind Rabbit severely, “after the milk is spilt it does no good to cry over it. You betrayed your own people, and nearly caused the death of many of them. Now what punishment do you think you deserve?”

Spotted Tail hung his head in fear and humiliation.

“There is only one punishment to suit the case,” Old Blind Rabbit said after a pause, “and that is to be banished from the woods. Never again can you speak to any of your people, nor shall they speak to you. Go, Spotted Tail, go, and never return! Is that not a just punishment?”

“Yes! Yes!” cried many, and the leaders of the burrows shook their heads in assent.

But before he could retire from the burrow in shame and disgrace, Bumper hopped from his corner, and faced the assembly.

“One minute, Old Blind Rabbit,” he said. “Let me speak a word for Spotted Tail. His sinning was against me most, and I should be heard. He is repentant now, and we should give him another chance. I ask you to take back that sentence.”

Old Blind Rabbit looked hard and severe, as he shook his head. “Sentence has been passed,” he said sternly, “and justice demands that Spotted Tail be banished from the woods.”

“But justice tempered with mercy is what I’m asking for,” replied Bumper.

Again Old Blind Rabbit shook his head, and White Tail, Crooked Ears and the others agreed with him.

“Then,” resumed Bumper sadly, “I shall go with him. If you banish Spotted Tail from the woods you banish me too.”

The consternation that followed this remark was so great you could have heard a pin drop. Every one was looking at the white rabbit, and, as if fascinated by his pink eyes and white fur, they remained mute and awed. Finally Old Blind Rabbit, seeing his opportunity, said: “What the king says must be obeyed!”

“Yes, what the king says must be obeyed!” cried many as if they were hypnotized, and even White Tail and the other leaders offered no opposition.

“Long live Bumper the White Rabbit as our king!” quavered Old Blind Rabbit, his voice cracking.

And every one took up the cry. “Long live Bumper the White Rabbit as our king!”

STORY XIII
BUMPER WINS SPOTTED TAIL’S FRIENDSHIP

So Bumper became king of all the rabbits in the woods, and all his people vowed they would stand loyally by him, and the big leaders—White Tail, Pink Nose, Crooked Ears, Brindley the Lame and Rolly Polly—promised to obey him, and teach their children and their children’s children to love and follow him.

“A king who is merciful to those who hurt him is a good and wise king,” said White Tail, as he came forward to pay homage.

“Wisdom is greater than courage,” said Brindley, “but greater than either is mercy.”

“I believed pink noses were the signs of royalty in rabbits,” remarked Pink Nose, when his turn came next, “but pink eyes are more to be desired, and I shall teach my children the truth of this.”

“Surely,” said Rolly Polly, his eyes twinkling, “this is a great day for the rabbits of the North Woods, and anything I can say will never be remembered. But I hope my next dinner will disagree with me if I ever speak an ill word of our king.”

Brindley was smiling and chuckling too, when he walked up. The sudden happy turn of affairs was much to his liking. “O Bumper, our white king!” he exclaimed. “The winter’s snow is not whiter than your coat, and your soul is whiter than either. May neither ever fade or grow tarnished in the use.”

Crooked Ears, who had come to the assembly with a grouch, which he intended to vent upon Bumper, stood hesitating a moment before he bowed and took the king’s paw. Then he looked up and smiled. “Ears, O Bumper, are given to hear, and whether they are crooked or straight they should gather in the truth and not the lies. Mine have heard the truth to-day, and may they grow more crooked if they ever listen to the untruth again.”

Now, when the leaders had finished swearing their allegiance to Bumper, the others crowded forward, and for half an hour poor Bumper had a hard time of it. They wanted to shake his paw and feel of his soft fur, and gaze into his pink eyes, until it seemed as if their curiosity would never be satisfied. And Bumper was in more danger of being spoilt by flattery than ever before in his life! From a secret corner Fuzzy Wuzz watched him through her mild brown eyes, and at times she frowned. If her eyes could have spoken they would have said something like this: “Can he stand all that flattery and admiration? I’m afraid for him.”

But Bumper did stand it, for when the visitors began to leave, one by one, and the burrow became emptied once more, he drew a heavy sigh of relief. He turned to Fuzzy Wuzz, who was still watching him, and said:

“It’s been an exciting day, Fuzzy Wuzz, hasn’t it? And I for one am glad it’s over, but gladder because all’s ended well. There’ll be no more trouble in the woods among our own people.”

Not a word about the remarkable tribute to his looks and wisdom, or anything about the high position they had placed him in. He was still plain Bumper when with his own family.

“O Bumper,” exclaimed Fuzzy Wuzz, “I was so afraid—afraid—”

“Afraid! Afraid of what, Fuzzy Wuzz?” he asked in surprise when she stopped.

Instead of answering directly, she laughed, and said:

“Oh, nothing! I meant I’m so happy!”

“Then I am too. Whatever makes you happy I like.”

But while he smiled into her meek brown eyes, he happened to catch a glimpse of Spotted Tail crouching in a corner, looking so miserable and forlorn that his heart smote him.

He left Fuzzy Wuzz, and hopped directly over to him. “Spotted Tail,” he said, “will you be my friend?”

A look of surprise and wonder came into the sad eyes of the other, and for a moment he could not understand just what Bumper was asking.

“I don’t understand,” he stammered in confusion. “Oh, you mean will I promise never to betray you again? Yes, yes, I promise that, Bumper—promise never to speak ill of you again.”

“I didn’t mean that,” replied Bumper. “I asked if you would be my friend. You know what friendship means?—trust, faith, loyalty, and all that?”

“Yes, I trust you,” stammered Spotted Tail. “How could it be otherwise after what you’ve done for me? And faith, yes, I have faith in you. I believe you’re a just and upright leader. As for loyalty, Bumper, you can ask for my life, and I’ll give it to you.”

Bumper smiled happily at these declarations of friendship, but still Spotted Tail hadn’t quite understood his meaning. How to make him believe that he forgave everything, and wanted to be his friend, troubled him.

“Come with me, Spotted Tail,” he said finally, extending a paw. “I want every one to see that we have forgiven and forgotten, and that we’re friends now.”

Then, to Spotted Tail’s surprise, Bumper led him up to Fuzzy Wuzz, and said: “Spotted Tail and I have made up all of our differences, and are going to be fast friends hereafter. Congratulate both of us, Fuzzy Wuzz.”

Fuzzy Wuzz was as wise and quick as she was good. She understood immediately, and, extending a paw, grasped one of Spotted Tail’s. “Let the past be as if it never were, Spotted Tail,” she said sweetly. “Bumper’s friends are my friends, and that makes us friends, doesn’t it?”

Spotted Tail nodded in embarrassment. He was so stupefied with surprise that he hardly knew what to say. Then to Goggle Eyes and the others, Bumper took him in turn, and gave them to understand that anything they said against Spotted Tail they would be saying against him.

The Old Blind Rabbit was the last one they came to. Bumper repeated his words, but remained a little uncertain just how the stern old leader would accept the change. Old Blind Rabbit had a stern sense of justice, and this sudden forgiveness of Spotted Tail might not suit him. But finally a kindly smile spread over his face, and he laid a paw on the breast of each.

“I have lived to see justice interpreted, O Bumper,” he said. “There will be joy in all the North Woods now that we have a king who is as merciful as he is wise and just. May Spotted Tail learn wisdom from you. The past is forgotten. We live now only for the future.”

And when they had retired to a corner from the rest, Spotted Tail found his voice. It was low and husky.

“O Bumper, you have heaped coals of fire on my head!” he exclaimed. “You have made me ashamed of myself. I wronged you because I was envious and jealous of your power. I told Shrike to spread the news that you were a king come to make all the rabbits in the North Woods your slaves. Now they’re all your friends. But you have one slave. I, Bumper, am your slave. Ask anything of me, and I will do it.”

“Then I ask one thing, Spotted Tail,” was the reply, “and you’ve promised to grant it.”

“Yes, I have promised, not knowing what it is.”

“It is very simple, Spotted Tail. Never let me hear you call yourself my slave again. Instead, speak of me as your friend, and if you wish to gain my favors call yourself my friend. Is that too much to promise?”

“It’s not enough, O Bumper. But as you say. I’m your friend—now and forevermore. You believe me?”

“Yes, I know you speak the truth.”

STORY XIV
SPOTTED TAIL PROVES HIS LOYALTY

Old Blind Rabbit was so pleased with the result of the revolt, and especially with Bumper’s forgiveness of Spotted Tail, that he immediately proclaimed a great feast to celebrate it. All the younger rabbits were sent forth in the woods to gather food for the banquet, and they came back laden with the most delicious roots and succulent leaves until their mouths watered. The burrow was piled high with them, as if it was being stocked against a ten-day siege by Mr. Fox and Buster the Bear.

“Now we will eat and be merry,” Old Blind Rabbit said when they were all gathered around the festive board. “May no more trouble come to my family or to any of the other rabbits of the woods!”

Bumper was called upon to make a speech, which he did, and Spotted Tail led the others in clapping his paws at the conclusion. While the excitement was running high, Old Blind Rabbit whispered in Bumper’s ear:

“When you make a friend of your enemy, you have made a friend indeed. Watch Spotted Tail’s enthusiasm.”

Bumper had already been watching him, and a little glow of pleasure was in his heart. Even greater than being made king, he thought, was the winning of Spotted Tail’s loyalty.

“All’s well that ends well,” he murmured.

Of course, Rusty the Blackbird might have doubted the genuineness of Spotted Tail’s friendship, and so would have Shrike the Butcher Bird, but that was because they didn’t understand the nature and habits of the rabbits as Bumper and Old Blind Rabbit did. They knew that Spotted Tail had changed, and all the envy and hatred had left his heart.

As if to prove this, something happened in the woods a few days later, which dispelled any doubts that either may have had. Bumper and Spotted Tail had gone off together in the thickest part of the woods when they came to an old gravel pit.

This was a deep hole in the ground which had nearly been covered up with thick weeds and briers. Bumper and Spotted Tail had been hopping along without thought of danger. Around and over the gravel pit a thick clump of bushes was growing.

“I think I can take that clump with a big hop,” Bumper remarked, preparing for a spring.

Spotted Tail glanced up to follow, and then shouted in alarm: “Don’t do it, Bumper! The gravel pit!”

Spotted Tail had recognized the danger if Bumper should fall short of his jump, but his warning was too late. Bumper had sprung into the air, and, just as Spotted Tail had feared, the tops of the bushes interfered with his leap. Instead of clearing the place, Bumper fell plump through the mass of weeds into the deep pit.

Down, down he went, scratching his face and body as he fell. Instead of landing on all four feet as he expected to do, he dropped heavily on one foot and wrenched his leg.

Spotted Tail heard his groans with alarm. What had happened to Bumper? He called aloud, and received only groans in reply.

Now perhaps it would have been wiser for Spotted Tail to have run back to the burrow, and summon help; but he was so worried over the result of the accident that only one thing occurred to him. He deliberately leaped into the gravel pit after Bumper. This required a good deal of courage, for he knew the danger. He recalled stories of how more than one rabbit in the past had been caught in this natural trap and held there for days and weeks until nearly famished.

When he landed by the side of Bumper at the bottom of the pit, he found the king huddled up in a heap, groaning with pain.

“What is it, Bumper?” he asked anxiously.

“I’ve broken my leg or sprained it,” was the reply. “And it pains so that even a king cannot help moaning.”

“Let me see it,” replied Spotted Tail.

For a long time Spotted Tail rubbed it, and tried to ease the pain. After a while it grew better, but it was still too lame for Bumper to stand much weight on it.

“How am I ever going to get out of this hole?” he asked, looking up. “I can’t jump out of it with this sprained leg.”

“No,” replied Spotted Tail. “No rabbit has ever yet been able to hop out of the gravel pit. I’m afraid we’re trapped here until the others find us.”

“Is it so bad as that?”

“Yes, and worse.”

Then Spotted Tail told him the stories of the gravel pit, and of the many times young rabbits had been caught there.

“It should have been filled in, then, before this,” said Bumper. “When I get home I’ll give orders to have it filled up.”

“That would be a good idea. But the important question now is, How are you going to get out?”

“How are you going to get out?” asked Bumper, smiling.

“That doesn’t matter so much if I can get you out.”

“You couldn’t jump to the top?”

“No, no rabbit could—not even you, Bumper.”

“And if we stay here we’ll starve?”

“Unless Mr. Fox happens to discover us, and eats us up. He’s big enough to scramble down here and out again.”

“It’s a pretty serious position we’re in, then,” mused Bumper.

“I have it!” Spotted Tail exclaimed suddenly. “See that bush fallen in the hole. The wind must have blown it in here. Now, I’ll climb on it, and then you climb on my back. I think by standing on my shoulders then you’ll be able to reach the top and scramble out.”

“But you? How’ll you get out?”

“Oh, I’ll manage it some way.”