The Burgess Animal Book for Children

T >> Thornton W. Burgess >> The Burgess Animal Book for Children

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17

Peter pricked up his long ears. "I know!" he cried. "You're going
to school, Prickly Porky. You're a Rodent, and we are going to
learn all about you this morning."

"I'm not a Rodent; I'm a Porcupine," grunted Prickly Porky indignantly.

"You're a Rodent just the same. You've got big gnawing teeth, and
any one with that kind of teeth is a Rodent," retorted Peter. Then
at a sudden thought a funny look passed over his face. "Why, that
means that you and I are related in a way," he added.

"Don't believe it," grunted Prickly Porky, still shuffling along.
"Don't believe it. Don't want to be related to anybody as
heedless as you. What is this school, anyway? Don't want to go to
school. Know all I want to know. Know how to get all I want to eat
and how to make everybody get out of my way and leave me alone, and
that's enough to know." He rattled the thousand little spears
hidden in his coat, and Peter shivered at the sound. It was a most
unpleasant sound.

"Well, some folks do like to be stupid," snapped Peter and hurried
on, lipperty-lipperty-lip, while Prickly Porky slowly shuffled and
rattled along behind.

All the others were there when Peter arrived. Prickly Porky wasn't
even in sight. Old Mother Nature wasted no time. She has too much
to do ever to waste time. She called the school to order at once.

"Yesterday," she began, "I told you about two little haymakers of
the high mountains of the Far West. Who were they, Peter Rabbit?"

"Little Chief Hare, called the Pika or Cony, and Stubtail the
Mountain Beaver or Sewellel," replied Peter with great promptness.

"Right," said Old Mother Nature. "Now I am going to tell you of
one of my little plowmen who also lives in the Far West but prefers
the great plains to the high mountains, though he is sometimes
found in the latter. He is Grubby the Gopher, a member of the
same order the rest of you belong to, but of a family quite his
own. He is properly called the Pocket Gopher, and way down in
the Southeast, where he is also found, he is called a Salamander,
though what for I haven't the least idea."

"Does he have pockets in his cheeks like mine?" asked Striped
Chipmunk eagerly.

"He has pockets in his cheeks, and that is why he is called Pocket
Gopher," replied Old Mother Nature; "but they are not at all like
yours, Striped Chipmunk. Yours are on the inside of your cheeks,
but his are on the outside."

"How funny!" exclaimed Striped Chipmunk.

"Your pockets are small compared with those of Grubby," continued
Old Mother Nature. "One of his covers almost the whole side of
his head back to his short neck, and it is lined with fur, and
remember he has two of them. Grubby uses these for carrying food
and never for carrying out earth when he is digging a tunnel, as
some folks think he does. He stuffs them full with his front feet
and empties them by pressing them from the back with his feet.
The Gopher family is quite large and the members range in size
from the size of Danny Meadow Mouse to that of Robber the Rat,
only these bigger members are stouter and heavier than Robber.
Some are reddish-brown and some are gray. But whatever his size
and wherever he is found, Grubby's habits are the same."

All this time Peter Rabbit had been fidgeting about. It was quite
clear that Peter had something on his mind. Now as Old Mother
Nature paused, Peter found the chance he had been waiting for.
"If you please, why did you call him a plowman?" he asked eagerly.

"I'm coming to that all in due time," replied Old Mother Nature,
smiling at Peter's eagerness. "Grubby Gopher spends most of his
life underground, very much like Miner the Mole, whom you all
know. He can dig tunnels just about as fast. His legs are short,
and his front legs and feet are very stout and strong. They are
armed with very long, strong claws and it is with these and the
help of his big cutting teeth that Grubby digs. He throws the
earth under him and then kicks it behind him with his hind feet.
When he has quite a pile behind him he turns around, and with his
front feet and head pushes it along to a little side tunnel and
then up to the surface of the ground. As soon as he has it all
out he plugs up the opening and goes back to digging. The loose
earth he has pushed out makes little mounds, and he makes one of
these mounds every few feet.

"Grubby is a great worker. He is very industrious. Since he is
underground, it doesn't make much difference to him whether it be
night or day. In summer, during the hottest part of the day, he
rests. His eyes are small and weak because he has little use for
them, coming out on the surface very seldom and then usually in
the dusk. He has a funny little tail without any hair on it; this
is very sensitive and serves him as a sort of guide when he runs
backward along his tunnel, which he can do quite fast. A funny
thing about those long claws on his front feet is that he folds
them under when he is walking or running. Do any of you know why
Farmer Brown plows his garden?"

As she asked this, Old Mother Nature looked from one to another,
and each in turn shook his head. "It is to mix the dead vegetable
matter thoroughly with the earth so that the roots of the plants
may get it easily," explained Old Mother Nature. "By making those
tunnels in every direction and bringing up the earth below to the
surface, Grubby Gopher does the same thing. That is why I call
him my little plowman. He loosens up the hard, packed earth and
mixes the vegetable matter with it and so makes it easy for seeds
to sprout and plants to grow."

"Then he must be one of the farmer's best friends," spoke up
Happy Jack Squirrel.

Old Mother Nature shook her head. "He has been in the past," said
she. "He has done a wonderful work in helping make the land fit
for farming. But where land is being farmed he is a dreadful
pest, I am sorry to say. You see he eats the crops the farmer
tries to raise, and the new mounds he is all the time throwing up
bury a lot of the young plants, and in the meadows make it very
hard to use a mowing machine for cutting hay. Then Grubby gets
into young orchards and cuts off all the tender roots of young
trees. This kills them. You see he is fond of tender roots,
seeds, stems of grass and grain, and is never happier than when
he can find a field of potatoes.

"Being such a worker, he has to have a great deal to eat. Then,
too, he stores away a great deal for winter, for he doesn't sleep
in winter as Johnny Chuck does. He even tunnels about under the
snow. Sometimes he fills these little snow tunnels with the earth
he brings up from below, and when the snow melts it leaves queer
little earth ridges to show where the tunnels were.

"Grubby is very neat in his habits and keeps his home and himself
very clean. During the day he leaves one of his mounds open for
a little while to let in fresh air. But it is only for a little
while. Then he closes it again. He doesn't dare leave it open
very long, for fear Shadow the Weasel or a certain big Snake called
the Gopher Snake will find it and come in after him. Digger the
Badger is the only one of his enemies who can dig fast enough to
dig him out, but at night, when he likes to come out for a little
air or to cut grain and grass, he must always watch for Hooty the
Owl. Old Man Coyote and members of the Hawk family are always
looking for him by day, so you see he has plenty of enemies, like
the rest of you.

"He got the name Gopher because that comes from a word meaning
honeycomb, and Grubby's tunnels go in every direction until the
ground is like honeycomb. He isn't a bit social and has rather
a mean disposition. He is always ready to fight. On the plains
he has done a great deal to make the soil fine and rich, as I have
already told you, but on hillsides he does a great deal of harm.
The water runs down his tunnels and washes away the soil. Because
of this and the damage he does to crops, man is his greatest
enemy. But man has furnished him with new and splendid foods easy
to get, and so Grubby's family increases faster than it used to,
in spite of traps and poison. Hello! See who's here! It is
about time."

There was a shuffling and rattling and grunting, and Prickly
Porky climbed up on an old stump, looking very peevish and much
out of sorts. He had come to school much against his will.

CHAPTER XI A Fellow With a Thousand Spears

"There," said Old Mother Nature, pointing to Prickly Porky the
Porcupine, "is next to the largest member of your order, which is?"

"Order of Rodents," piped up Striped Chipmunk.

"He is not only next to the largest, but is the stupidest," continued
Old Mother Nature. "At least that is what people say of him, though
I suspect he isn't as stupid as he sometimes seems. Anyway, he
manages to keep well fed and escape his enemies, which is more than
can be said for some others who are supposed to have quick wits."

"Escaping his enemies is no credit to him. They are only too glad
to keep out of his way; he doesn't have to fear anybody," said
Chatterer the Red Squirrel to his cousin, Happy Jack.

His remark didn't escape the keen ears of Old Mother Nature. "Are
you sure about that?" she demanded. "Now there's Pekan the Fisher-"

She was interrupted by a great rattling on the old stump. Everybody
turned to look. There was Prickly Porky backing down as fast as he
could, which wasn't fast at all, and rattling his thousand little
spears as he did so. It was really very funny. Everybody had to
laugh, even Old Mother Nature. You see, it was plain that he was
in a great hurry, yet every movement was slow and clumsy.

"Well, Prickly Porky, what does this mean? Where are you going?"
demanded Old Mother Nature.

Prickly Porky turned his dull-looking eyes towards her, and in them
was a troubled, worried look. "Where's Pekan the Fisher?" he asked,
and his voice shook a little with something very much like fear.

Old Mother Nature understood instantly. When she had said, "Now
there's Pekan the Fisher," Prickly Porky had waited to hear no
more. He had instantly thought that she meant that Pekan was
right there somewhere. "It's all right, Prickly Porky," said she.
Pekan isn't anywhere around here, so climb back on that stump and
don't worry. Had you waited for me to finish, you would have saved
yourself a fright. Chatterer had just said that you didn't have
to fear anybody and I was starting to explain that he was wrong,
that despite your thousand little spears you have reason to fear
Pekan the Fisher."

Prickly Porky shivered and this made the thousand little spears in
his coat rattle. It was such a surprising thing to see Prickly Porky
actually afraid that the other little folks almost doubted their own
eyes. "Are you quite sure that Pekan isn't anywhere around?" asked
Prickly Porky, and his voice still shook.

"Quite sure," replied Old Mother Nature. "If he were I wouldn't
allow him to hurt you. You ought to know that. Now sit up so
that every one can get a good look at you."

Prickly Porky sat up, and the others gathered around the foot of
the stump to look at him. "He certainly is no beauty," murmured
Happy Jack Squirrel.

Happy Jack was quite right. He was anything but handsome. The
truth is he was the homeliest, clumsiest-looking fellow in all
the Green Forest. He was a little bigger than Bobby Coon and his
body was thick and heavy-looking. His back humped up like an
arch. His head was rather small for the size of his body, short
and rather round. His neck was even shorter. His eyes were small
and very dull. It was plain that he couldn't see far, or clearly
unless what he was looking at was close at hand. His ears were
small and nearly hidden in hair. His front teeth, the gnawing
teeth which showed him to be a Rodent, were very large and bright
orange. His legs were short and stout. He had four toes on each
front foot and five on each hind foot, and these were armed with
quite long, stout claws.

But the queerest thing and the most interesting thing about Prickly
Porky was his coat. Not one among the other little people of the
Green Forest has a coat anything like his. Most of them have a
soft, short under fur protected and more or less hidden by longer,
coarser hair. Prickly Porky had the long coarse hair and on his
back it was very long and coarse, brownish-black in color up to
the tips, which were white. Under this long hair was some soft
woolly fur, but what that long hair hid chiefly was an array of
wicked-looking little spears called quills. They were white to the
tips, which were dark and very, very sharply pointed. All down the
sides were tiny barbs, so small as hardly to be seen, but there
just the same. On his head the quills were about an inch long,
but on his back they were four inches long, becoming shorter
towards the tail. The latter was rather short, stout, and covered
with short quills.

As he sat there on that old stump some of Prickly Porky's little
spears could be seen peeping out from the long hair on his back,
but they didn't look particularly dangerous. Peter Rabbit
suddenly made a discovery. "Why!" he exclaimed. "He hasn't any
little spears on the under side of him!"

"I wondered who would be the first to notice that," said Old Mother
Nature. "No, Prickly Porky hasn't any little spears underneath,
and Pekan the Fisher has found that out. He knows that if he can
turn Prickly Porky on his back he can kill him without much danger
from those little spears, and he has learned how to do that very
thing. That is why Prickly Porky is afraid of him. Now, Prickly
Porky, climb down off that stump and show these little folks what
you do when an enemy comes near."

Grumbling and growling, Prickly Porky climbed down to the ground.
Then he tucked his head down between his front paws and suddenly
the thousand little spears appeared all over him, pointing in
every direction until he looked like a giant chestnut burr. Then
he began to thrash his tail from side to side.

"What is he doing that for?" asked Johnny Chuck, looking
rather puzzled.

"Go near enough to be hit by it, and you'll understand," said Old
Mother Nature dryly. "That is his one weapon. Whoever is hit by
that tail will find himself full of those little spears and will
take care never to go near Prickly Porky again. Once those little
spears have entered the skin, they keep working in deeper and
deeper, and more than one of his enemies has been killed by them.
On account of those tiny barbs they are hard to pull out, and
pulling them out hurts dreadfully. Just try one and see."

But no one was anxious to try, so Old Mother Nature paused only a
moment. "You will notice that he moves that tail quickly," she
continued. "It is the only thing about him which is quick. When
he has a chance, in time of danger, he likes to get his head
under a log or rock, instead of putting it between his paws as he
is doing now. Then he plants his feet firmly and waits for a
chance to use that tail."

"Is it true that he can throw those little spears at folks?"
asked Peter.

Old Mother Nature shook her head. "There isn't a word of truth in
it," she declared. "That story probably was started by some one
who was hit by his tail, and it was done so quickly that the victim
didn't see the tail move and so thought the little spears were
thrown at him."

"How does he make all those little spears stand up that way?"
asked Jumper the Hare.

"He has a special set of muscles for just that purpose," explained
Old Mother Nature.

"When those quills stick into some one they must pull out of
Prickly Porky's own skin; I should think that would hurt him,"
spoke up Striped Chipmunk.

"Not at all," replied Old Mother Nature. "They are very loosely
fastened in his skin and come out at the least little pull. New
Ones grow to take the place of those he loses. Notice that he
puts his whole foot flat on the ground just as Buster Bear and
Bobby Coon do, and just as those two-legged creatures called men
do. Very few animals do this, and those that do are said to be
plantigrade. Now, Prickly Porky, tell us what you eat and where
you make your home, and that will end today's lesson."

"I eat bark, twigs and leaves mostly," grunted Prickly Porky
ungraciously. "I like hemlock best of all, but also eat poplar,
pine and other trees for a change. Sometimes I stay in a tree for
days until I have stripped it of all its bark and leaves. I don't
see any sense in moving about any more than is necessary."

"But that must kill the tree!" exclaimed Peter Rabbit.

"Well, what of it?" demanded Prickly Porky crossly. "There are
plenty of trees. In summer I like lily pads and always get them
when I can."

"Can you swim?" asked Peter eagerly.

"Of course," grunted Prickly Porky.

"I never see you out on the Green Meadows," said Peter.

"And you never will," retorted Prickly Porky. "The Green Forest
for me every time. Summer or winter, I'm at home there."

"Don't you sleep through the cold weather the way Buster Bear and
I do?" asked Johnny Chuck.

"What should I sleep for?" grumbled Prickly Porky. "Cold weather
doesn't bother me. I like it. I have the Green Forest pretty much
to myself then. I like to be alone. And as long as there are trees,
there is plenty to eat. I sleep a great deal in the daytime because
I like night best."

"What about your home?" asked Happy Jack.

"Home is wherever I happen to be, most of the time, but Mrs. Porky
has a home in a hollow log or a cave or under the roots of a tree
where the babies are born. I guess that's all I've got to tell you."

"You might add that those babies are big for the size of their
mother and have a full supply of quills when they are born," said
Old Mother Nature. "And you forgot to say how fond of salt you
are, and how often this fondness gets you into trouble around the
camps of men. Your fear of Pekan the Fisher we all saw. I might
add that Puma the Panther is to be feared at times, and when he
is very hungry Buster Bear will take a chance on turning you on
your back. By the way, don't any of you call Prickly Porky a
Hedgehog. He isn't any thing of the kind. He is sometimes called
a Quill Pig, but his real name, Porcupine, is best. He has no
near relatives. Tomorrow morning, instead of meeting here, we'll
hold school on the shore of the pond Paddy the Beaver has made.
School is dismissed."

CHAPTER XII A Lumberman and Engineer

Johnny Chuck and Striped Chipmunk were the only ones who were not
on hand at the pond of Paddy the Beaver deep in the Green Forest
at sun-up the next morning. Johnny and Striped Chipmunk were
afraid to go so far from home. To the surprise of everybody,
Prickly Porky was there.

"He must have traveled all night to get here he is such a slow-poke,"
said Peter Rabbit to his cousin, Jumper the Hare.

Peter wasn't far from the truth. But how ever he got there, there
he was, reaching for lily pads from an old log which lay half in
the water, and appearing very well satisfied with life. You know
there is nothing like a good meal of things you like, to make
everything seem just as it should.

Old Mother Nature seated herself on one end of Paddy's dam and
called the school to order. Just as she did so a brown head
popped out of the water close by and a pair of anxious eyes looked
up at Old Mother Nature.

"It is quite all right, Paddy," said she softly. "These little
folks are trying to gain a little knowledge of themselves and
other folks, and we are going to have this morning's lesson right
here because it is to be about you."

Paddy the Beaver no longer looked anxious. There was a sparkle in
his eyes. "May I stay?" he asked eagerly. "If there is a chance
to learn anything I don't want to miss it."

Before Old Mother Nature could reply Peter Rabbit spoke up. "But
the lesson is to be about you and your family. Do you expect to
learn anything about yourself?" he demanded, and chuckled as if he
thought that a great joke.

"It seems to me that some one named Peter learned a great deal about
his own family when he first came to school to me," said Old Mother
Nature. Peter had grace enough to hang his head and look ashamed.
"Of course you may stay, Paddy. In fact, I want you to. There are
some things I shall want you to explain. That is why we are holding
school over here this morning. Just come up here on your dam where
we can all get a good look at you."

Paddy the Beaver climbed out on his dam. It was the first time
Happy Jack Squirrel ever had seen him out of water, and Happy Jack
gave a little gasp of surprise. "I had no idea he is so big!"
he exclaimed.

"He is the biggest of all the Rodents in this country, and one of
the biggest in all the Great World. Also he is the smartest
member of the whole order," said Old Mother Nature.

"He doesn't look it," said Chatterer the Squirrel with a saucy
jerk of his tail.

"Which means, I suppose, that you haven't the least doubt that you
are quite as smart as he," said Old Mother Nature quietly, and
Chatterer looked both guilty and a little bit ashamed. "I'll admit
that you are smart, Chatterer, but often it is in a wrong way.
Paddy is smart in the very best way. He is a lumberman, builder
and engineer. A lot of my little people are workers, but they are
destructive workers. The busier they are, the more they destroy.
Paddy the Beaver is a constructive worker. That means that he is a
builder instead of a destroyer."

"How about all those trees he cuts down? If that isn't destroying,
I don't know what is!" said Chatterer, and with each word jerked
his tail as if somehow his tongue and tail were connected.

"So it is," replied Old Mother Nature good-naturedly. "But just
think of the number of trees you destroy."

"I never have destroyed a tree in my life!" declared
Chatterer indignantly.

"Yes, you have," retorted Old Mother Nature.

"I never have!" contradicted Chatterer, quite forgetting to whom
he was speaking.

But Old Mother Nature overlooked this. "I don't suppose you ever
ate a chestnut or a fat hickory nut or a sweet beechnut," said
she softly.

"Of course," retorted Chatterer sharply. "I've eaten ever and
ever and ever so many of them. What of it?"

In the heart of each one was a little tree, explained Old Mother
Nature. "But for you very many of those little trees would have
sprung up and some day would have made big trees. So you see for
every tree Paddy has destroyed you probably have destroyed a
hundred. You eat the nuts that you may live. Paddy cuts down the
trees that he may live, for the bark of those trees is his food.
Like Prickly Porky he lives chiefly on bark. But, unlike Prickly
Porky, he doesn't destroy a tree for the bark alone. He wastes
nothing. He makes use of every bit of that tree. He does something
for the Green Forest in return for the trees he takes."

Chatterer looked at Happy Jack and blinked in a puzzled way.
Happy Jack looked at Peter Rabbit and blinked. Peter looked at
Jumper the Hare and blinked. Jumper looked at Prickly Porky and
blinked. Then all looked at Paddy the Beaver and finally at Old
Mother Nature, and all blinked. Old Mother Nature chuckled.

"Don't you think the Green Forest is more beautiful because of
this little pond?" she asked. Everybody nodded. "Of course," she
continued. "But there wouldn't be any little pond here were it
not for Paddy and the trees he has cut. He destroyed the trees in
order to make the pond. That is what I meant when I called him a
constructive worker. Now I want you all to take a good look at
Paddy. Then he will show us just how as a lumberman he cuts
trees, as a builder he constructs houses and dams, and as an
engineer he digs canals."

As Paddy sat there on his dam, he looked rather like a giant member
of the Rat family, though his head was more like that of a Squirrel
than a Rat. His body was very thick and heavy, and in color he
was dark brown, lighter underneath than above. Squatting there
on the dam his back was rounded. All together, he was a very
clumsy-looking fellow.

Peter Rabbit appeared to be interested in just one thing, Paddy's
tail. He couldn't keep his eyes off it.

Old Mother Nature noticed this. "Well, Peter," said she, "what
have you on your mind now?"

"That tail," replied Peter. "That's the queerest tail I've ever
seen. I should think it would be heavy and dreadfully in the way."

Old Mother Nature laughed. "If you ask him Paddy will tell you
that that tail is the handiest tail in the Green Forest," said she.
"There isn't another like it in all the Great World, and if you'll
be patient you will see just how handy it is."

It was a queer-looking tail. It was broad and thick and flat, oval
in shape, and covered with scales instead of hair. Just then Jumper
the Hare made a discovery. "Why!" he exclaimed, "Paddy has feet
like Honker the Goose!"

"Only my hind feet," said Paddy. "They have webs between the toes
just as Honker's have. That is for swimming. But there are no
webs between my fingers." He held up a hand for all to see. Sure
enough, the fingers were free.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17