see it clearly

Whitefoot Grows Suspicious

By Thornton W. Burgess

Whitefoot the Wood Mouse sat thoughtfully pulling his whiskers. Once or twice he looked behind him uneasily. Very carefully he studied the little wee, wee path that led up to the hollow log where he was making his home at present. Someone had been over that path since he went out for his usual morning walk. He was sure of it. He peeped in at his doorway and sniffed. Someone had been in there too.

"Hello, Whitefoot!" shouted Striped Chipmunk, coming up behind him on tiptoe.

Whitefoot jumped so that he lost his balance and toppled off his doorstep. "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Striped Chipmunk. "You must have been asleep. Supposing that I had been Shadow the Weasel, what would have happened to you then?"

Whitefoot grew pale at the very thought. "You -- you don't suppose that Shadow the Weasel is anywhere around, do you?" he whispered.

"Don't know," replied Striped Chipmunk, "And I don't care. No, Sir, I don't care, for he doesn't know where my house is. I tell you what it is, Whitefoot, there is nothing like feeling safe. It gives one a good appetite. It certainly does. You take my advice and the next time you build a house you build it where no one will suspect it is. Well, I must skip along now. Look out for Shadow the Weasel."

Whitefoot was more uneasy than ever. He trotted along the wee, wee path which he had made just for his own use and looked for footprints. By and by he found one and for just a second his heart stopped beating. It was -- yes, there could be no mistake, it was the footprint of Shadow the Weasel.

Whitefoot was sure now that Shadow the Weasel had visited his house, and if he had been there once and found no one at home he certainly would come again. You see Shadow the Weasel is a robber and worse. He is feared by all the little people of the Green Meadows and Green Forest and hated by all those who are big enough not to fear him. He is so slim and short of legs that he can slip into almost any hole that little people like Striped Chipmunk or Danny Meadow Mouse or Whitefoot can.

Whitefoot was thinking of this as he sat with his hands folded and wondered what he had best do. It certainly wouldn't do to stay there. Shadow the Weasel might catch him asleep. With a sigh Whitefoot arose and went into his house in the hollow log. He filled his pockets with food and then he started out to look for a new home. And as he slowly traveled he kept thinking of Striped Chipmunk's advice. But how could he build a home so that no one would find it? A sudden noise behind him made him stop to listen. Then he ran up to the branch of a pine tree from which he could look back to his old home. Someone was just coming out of his doorway. It was -- yes, it was Shadow the Weasel!

Whitefoot waited to see no more, but ran as fast as his legs would take him.