“Do you know, Mr. Beaver,” Bumper replied, “I could get by you very easily and cross the dam? I could jump over your head in one hop and almost reach the other shore. But I won’t do it! If you’re so mean as to send me back, I don’t want anything more to do with you. The sooner I get away the better I’ll like it. But some day, Mr. Beaver, your selfishness will bring you trouble. You will wish for a friend then, and none will come. No, not one!”
“You can’t frighten me!” exclaimed Mr. Beaver. “Nothing’s going to happen to me!”
But even as he said it he felt a little nervous. Bumper’s words had touched the quick. He wished now he hadn’t been so selfish, but he was too old and crusty to acknowledge it. So he stood on guard and watched the white rabbit hop back to the shore, and then he swung around to take a long dive into the water.
Perhaps Mr. Beaver had been on that log a hundred times, and nothing had ever happened; but one end had been balanced on another log for so long that it was rotted away. Suddenly it slipped down and carried Mr. Beaver with it, but not on top. He was wedged in between two logs so that he couldn’t move down or up. Squeeze his body as flat as he could there was no way out.
For a moment he struggled frantically, and then finding he could make no headway he became frightened. What if he were caught there and couldn’t escape! He would starve to death in a few days, and no one would know anything about it until too late.
What a horrible prospect! With a little squeal of fear at the thought of it, he looked up at the sky and across the pond he had made. There was no one to help him. Now he recalled Bumper’s words. When he needed a friend there would be none to come to help him. Oh, how much he would give for a friend just now!
He struggled and struggled, but the two logs were embedded in the mud so he couldn’t budge them. He was caught so he couldn’t get at them with his sharp teeth to gnaw his way out. He was certainly a prisoner for life.
Suddenly there was a tap, tap over his head, and he looked up to see the White Rabbit gazing down at him. “I heard you squeal, Mr. Beaver,” Bumper said, “and I thought something had happened to you. Oh, I see you’re caught between the two logs!”
“Yes, Bumper, and I can’t get out. I’m afraid I’ll starve here unless you can find Buster the Bear and get him to move the logs. And even then he may eat me up.”
“I can do better than that,” said Bumper. “If you keep still I can gnaw away enough from this log so you can squeeze your way out.”