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Sins of Silvertip the Fox

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<h2 id='ch13' title="HOW THE GREAT HUNT ENDED">CHAPTER XIII HOW THE GREAT HUNT ENDED</h2> Nibble Rabbit cuddled down comfortably in the bottom of the haystack. Pretty soon he heard Trailer bark. “Aough! Here, Watch! Quick! Catch him!” “They didn’t get him that time, either,” thought Nibble as Trailer’s voice settled down to the hunting call. “But I guess Silvertip’s too busy to hurt me, and I must tell Doctor Muskrat to keep away from that flat stone.” So off he went to the woods as fast as ever his paddy-feet would carry him. But he didn’t go straight to Doctor Muskrat’s Pool. He ran around the lower end of the Prickly Ash Thicket, where his hole was, and jumped across the brook. Then he came up on the far side of the pool and hid in a clump of willows. Deep in the woods he could hear Trailer, still baying. Everything else was very still. He thumped softly. “M—m! Eh? Is that you, Nibble?” came the startled voice of the old doctor. “Watch sent me over here and I fell asleep. We sat up all night watching Silvertip, Whippoorwill and I. He slept curled up on that rotten log just behind your hole.” “Then the little owls did find a fieldmouse,” said Nibble. “They said they’d make one show it to them and then eat him so he couldn’t tell me.” “Well, that’s just what they tried to do,” and the doctor’s eyes twinkled, “but he managed to wriggle away when he got there and pop right into it. And he dug along the big root that runs up into the mouse tunnels and was down here for me to put a moss-seed poultice on his claw wounds while they were still watching your doorway. A doctor knows pretty much everything that goes on, I can tell you.” “And Silvertip?” asked Nibble. “Oh, that hound all but caught him!” the doctor exclaimed. “He came sneaking out when Watch called me, and he was so busy trying to hear what one dog had to say that he forgot all about the other. He squeaked like a frightened mouse.” “How exciting!” Nibble flicked his tufty little tail at the thought of it. “I had Watch tell you not to go back to that flat stone because the little owls know about it. Those bad little birds will do anything to help Silvertip. They bargained with Foul Fang the Rattlesnake, and they bargained with the grandson of Ouphe the Rat. They might bargain with Slyfoot the Mink to watch it.” “There’s someone watching it this very minute that the little owls didn’t bargain with,” answered Doctor Muskrat. “It’s Grandpop Snapping Turtle. He moves just a little closer every day, and then he settles down in the mud so exactly like a stone himself, that even I can hardly tell the difference. He’s very polite—but we’ll keep a safe distance away from him. What’s that?” For a shadow was floating over the old doctor’s pool. Nibble and Doctor Muskrat crouched very low among the willow stems as it sailed silently above them. It was just daybreak, when mice scuttle down to drink and crayfish are stiff with the night’s chill—the best hunting time of the day for the marsh hawk. The woods were very still; they couldn’t hear even the distant barking of the dogs. Pretty soon Nibble put up his head. “It’s the whippoorwill,” he whispered, flashing a signal to the bird. “He’s got news of Silvertip! Do you suppose they’ve caught him?” He was so excited that he squirmed inside his furry skin. “We’ll know in a minute,” said Doctor Muskrat, as the whippoorwill dropped quietly to the ground. But he fluttered in surprise when he saw the doctor. “Great beetles!” he exclaimed. “I just saw your nose poking out of the water by the flat stone.” “Not his,” said Nibble. “We can’t go there, because the Bad Little Owls who help Silvertip are watching it.” “Yes,” put in the doctor, “and so is Grandpop Snapping Turtle, who helps himself.” “O—ho!” said the whippoorwill. “I thought it was you, hiding from the little owls. They’re in the Quail’s Thicket.” “And Silvertip?” asked Nibble. “Silvertip’s too clever for those dogs. He’s got away,” said the whippoorwill, sadly. “I know just how you feel. It’s awful to know he’s always after you. But you did me a good turn when you found that rattlesnake and showed it to Tommy Peele. And Tommy did me a good turn when he shot it. I’ll help you all I can. Only when a fox is smart enough to run along the top of a fence to hide his trail, what dog will ever catch him?” “There’s just one thing sure,” said Doctor Muskrat, “he’ll catch himself with his own cleverness one of these days.” “Listen!” breathed the whippoorwill. “He’s come back to the brook on his own trail. Now he’s walking in the water to hide his footsteps while he crosses to the Quail’s Thicket to see if the little owls have found Nibble. Isn’t that smart?” Ka-splash, ka-splash, ka-splash, ka-splash, went the cautious feet of the fox. He was wading up the other side of the pond, nearer and nearer to the flat stone. Ka-splash—he was right beside it. Ka-splash. “Yah!” he screamed. “A trap! Urr—waur-r-r! Leggo, leggo!” he snarled, biting the thing that gripped his leg. Then slowly, surely, they saw him dragged deeper and deeper into the pool. “Oh!” gasped Nibble. “How awful! That was—Grandpop Snapping Turtle!” “Lip, lip, lip,” sang the ripples against the shore. They broke in rings about the poor fox’s nose as it disappeared. They travelled clear across to the farthest shore where Nibble Rabbit and Doctor Muskrat were crouching in the willows, and they whispered “Silvertip’s gone.” “Poor Silvertip,” gasped Nibble. “I wouldn’t have minded a bit if the dogs had caught him—but to be drowned—Ugh!” And he shivered. “That’s all in the way you look at it,” answered the doctor. “You’re used to the idea of having something run you down and kill you. But we muskrats are quite used to the idea of being eaten by snapping turtles. If I’m not clever enough to get away it doesn’t matter to me which gets me in the end.” “But he’s terribly dangerous,” Nibble insisted. “I should think you’d be afraid to dive into the same pond with him. We must catch him. We can get Tommy to help us.” “There’s no need of that,” argued the wise old beast calmly. “I’ve grown up in this pond. And Grandpop Snapping Turtle has been paddling around in it every summer since I was born. He’s never troubled me because so far I’m smarter than he is. When I get old and stupid perhaps he will.” “But why should there be anything to catch us?” persisted Nibble. “Why can’t we make a compact with them, like the cows made with the dogs, or why can’t we make a compact with Man to help us kill them? Then it would be like Mother Nature meant to have it in the First-Off Beginning.” “You forget that they both were Mother Nature’s own children to start with. Even she can’t make a compact with the Things-that-came-from-under-the-earth like Grandpop. And those are the worst enemies we have. Besides, I think even Mother Nature has changed her mind about that first plan. Now she’s growing something she never thought of.” “What’s that?” asked Nibble, trying hard to guess. “Brains! we’re learning to think. You’re safe enough if you know all your enemy knows and then think for yourself besides. It’s only when he’s cleverer than you are that he can catch you. If we had no enemies we’d still be as stupid as plants—no, stupider—because they had to learn to take care of themselves, too.” “I see,” said Nibble, slowly. “Silvertip was safe on land because he was smarter than any one else. He got caught when he took to the water because Grandpop Snapping Turtle knew more about that than he did.” “Exactly,” agreed Doctor Muskrat. “It was perfectly fair. Look at Man. He had the most enemies and the least help from Mother Nature. Now no one can hurt him but himself—he still has that much to learn. But he’s wiser and safer than any one else in all the world. And his enemies taught him.” <div class='tac mt07'> THE END</div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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