Green Meadow Stories, Thornton W. Burgess [read people like a book .txt] 📗

Waits for Reddy

Be wise, my friends, and do not fail
To trust a dog who wags his tail.

Bowser the Hound

Just before reaching the farm where the fat hens and Bowser the Hound were, Blacky waited for Reddy Fox to catch up. It was some time before Reddy appeared, for he wasn’t traveling as fast now as when he had started out. You see, that farm really was a very long way from the Old Pasture where Reddy lives and Reddy had run very hard, because, you know, he was so anxious to get one of those fat hens.

As soon as Blacky saw him he hid in the thick branches of a tall pine-tree. Reddy didn’t see him. In fact, Blacky had been so far ahead that Reddy had lost sight of him some time before. Out of the bushes trotted Reddy. His tongue was hanging out just a little, and he was panting. Blacky was just about to speak when Reddy stopped. He stood as still as if he had suddenly been frozen stiff. His sharp black ears were cocked forward, and his head was turned just a little to one side. Reddy was listening. He was listening for the voice of Blacky. You see, he thought Blacky was still far ahead of him.

For several minutes Reddy stood listening with all his might, and Blacky’s sharp eyes twinkled as he looked down, watching Reddy. Suddenly Reddy sat down. There was an expression on his sharp face which Blacky understood perfectly. It was quite plain that Reddy was becoming suspicious. He had begun to suspect that he had been tricked by Blacky and led so far away from home for nothing.

Down inside Blacky chuckled. It was a noiseless chuckle, for Blacky did not intend to give himself away until he had to. But when at last he saw that Reddy was beginning to get uneasy, Blacky spoke. “You seem to be feeling better, Brother Reddy,” said he. “You must excuse me for keeping you waiting, but I did not suppose that anyone so weak and feeble as you appeared to be early this morning could possibly get here so soon.”

At the sound of Blacky’s voice, Reddy was so startled that he jumped quite as if he had sat down on a prickly briar. He was sharp enough to know that it was no longer of any use to pretend. “I’m feeling better,” said he. “The thought of those fat hens has quite restored my strength. Did you say that they are near here?”

“I didn’t say, but⁠—” Blacky didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. From the other side of a little swamp in front of them a rooster crowed. That was answer enough! Reddy’s yellow eyes gleamed. In an instant he was on his feet, the picture of alertness.

“Are you satisfied that I told the truth?” asked Blacky. Reddy nodded.

XXXIII Reddy Watches the Fat Hens

Sooner or later the crookedest trail will straighten.

Bowser the Hound

At the sound of that rooster’s voice on the other side of the little swamp, Reddy became a changed Fox. Could you have been sitting where you could have seen him, as did Blacky the Crow, you never, never would have guessed that Reddy had run a very long distance and was tired. He did not even glance up at Blacky. He did not even say thank you to Blacky for having shown him the way. He looked neither to the right nor to the left, but with eyes fixed eagerly ahead, began to steal forward swiftly.

Making no sound, for Reddy can step very lightly when he chooses to, he trotted quickly through the little swamp until he drew near the other side. Then he crouched close to the snow-covered ground and began to steal from bush to bush until he reached the trunk of a fallen tree on the very edge of the swamp. To this he crawled on his stomach and peeped around the end of it.

Everything was as Blacky the Crow had said. Not far away was a farmyard, and walking about in it was a big rooster, lording it over a large flock of fat hens. They were not shut in by a wire fence as were Farmer Brown’s hens. Some were taking a sun bath just in front of the barn door. Others were scattered about, picking up bits of food which had been thrown out for them. A few were scratching in some straw in the cowyard. In the barn a horse stamped. From the farmhouse sounded the voice of a woman singing. Once the door of the farmhouse opened, and an appetizing odor floated out to tickle the nose of Reddy.

Reddy looked sharply for signs of a dog. Not one could he see. If there was a dog, he must be either in the barn or in the house. It was quite clear to Reddy that no Fox had bothered this flock of fat hens. He was sorely tempted to rush out and grab one of them at once, but he didn’t. He was far too clever to do anything like that until he was absolutely sure that it would be safe.

So Reddy lay flat behind the old tree trunk, with just his nose and his eyes showing around the end of it, and studied what would be best to do. He was sure that he could get one of those fat hens, but he wanted more. Early that morning Reddy would have been quite contented with one, but now that he was sure that he could get one, he wanted more. If he were too bold and frightened those hens while catching one, they would make such a racket that they would be sure to bring someone from the farmhouse. The thing to do was to be patient until he could catch one without alarming the others. Then perhaps he would be able to catch another. Reddy decided to be patient and wait.