"I wish I'd never gone a-traveling!"
Nearer and nearer the board, with Master Meadow Mouse upon it, drifted around the bend of the creek toward Mr. Great Blue Heron. And at last Mr. Heron noticed it. And he noticed its passenger, too.
"Ahem!" he said softly to himself. Except for swallowing once or twice, he never made a move, but stood there in the water and waited. He waited for Master Meadow Mouse's raft to drift closer; for it was plain to him—as to Master Meadow Mouse—that the current of Black Creek was slowly bearing the board straight down upon him. "When it gets near enough I'll just reach out and pluck that fellow off," Mr. Heron promised himself with a sort of silent chuckle.
Meanwhile Master Meadow Mouse was having a very bad quarter of an hour. Slowly though his craft moved, to him it seemed to travel with lightning speed.
"I'll pass him soon," Master Meadow Mouse thought. "If I crouch down and make myself as small as possible perhaps he won't see me."
So he hugged the board tight. But the closer he came to Mr. Heron the bigger and fiercer that gentleman looked.