<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XXX: The Whitefoots Enjoy Their New Home </h2>
<p>No home is ever mean or poor<br/>
Where love awaits you at the door.<br/>
—Whitefoot.<br/></p>
<p>“There,” said Mrs. Whitefoot, as she worked a strip of white birch bark
into the roof of the new home she and Whitefoot had been building out of
the old home of Melody the Wood Thrush, “this finishes the roof. I don't
think any water will get through it even in the hardest rain.”</p>
<p>“It is wonderful,” declared Whitefoot admiringly. “Wherever did you learn
to build such a house as this?”</p>
<p>“From my mother,” replied Mrs. Whitefoot. “I was born in just such a home.
It makes the finest kind of a home for Wood Mouse babies.”</p>
<p>“You don't think there is danger that the wind will blow it down, do you?”
ventured Whitefoot.</p>
<p>“Of course I don't,” retorted little Mrs. Whitefoot scornfully. “Hasn't
this old nest remained right where it is for over a year? Do you suppose
that if I had thought there was the least bit of danger that it would blow
down, I would have used it? Do credit me with a little sense, my dear.”</p>
<p>“Yes'm, I do,” replied Whitefoot meekly. “You are the most sensible person
in all the Great World. I wasn't finding fault. You see, I have always
lived in a hole in the ground or a hollow stump, or a hole in a tree, and
I have not yet become used to a home that moves about and rocks as this
one does when the wind blows. But if you say it is all right, why of
course it is all right. Probably I will get used to it after awhile.”</p>
<p>Whitefoot did get used to it. After living in it for a few days, it no
longer seemed strange, and he no longer minded its swaying when the wind
blew. The fact is, he rather enjoyed it. So Whitefoot and Mrs. Whitefoot
settled down to enjoy their new home. Now and then they added a bit to it
here and there.</p>
<p>Somehow Whitefoot felt unusually safe, safer than he had ever felt in any
of his other homes. You see, he had seen several feathered folk alight
close to it and not give it a second look. He knew that they had seen that
home, but had mistaken it for what it had once been, the deserted home of
one of their own number.</p>
<p>Whitefoot had chuckled. He had chuckled long and heartily. “If they make
that mistake,” said he to himself, “everybody else is likely to make it.
That home of ours is right in plain sight, yet I do believe it is safer
than the best hidden home I ever had before. Shadow the Weasel never will
think of climbing up this little tree to look at an old nest, and Shadow
is the one I am most afraid of.”</p>
<p>It was only a day or two later that Buster Bear happened along that way.
Now Buster is very fond of tender Wood Mouse. More than once Whitefoot had
had a narrow escape from Buster's big claws as they tore open an old stump
or dug into the ground after him. He saw Buster glance up at the new home
without the slightest interest in those shrewd little eyes of his. Then
Buster shuffled on to roll over an old log and lick up the ants he found
under it. Again Whitefoot chuckled. “Yes, sir,” said he. “It is the safest
home I 've ever had.”</p>
<p>So Whitefoot and little Mrs. Whitefoot were very happy in the home which
they had built, and for once in his life Whitefoot did very little
worrying. Life seemed more beautiful than it had ever been before. And he
almost forgot that there was such a thing as a hungry enemy.</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
1 of 2
2 of 2
Previous
Next
Update Required
To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.