“All right, then! Don’t grumble because somebody else is having an easier time than you.”
They were approaching the river where it was broad and deep, and some of the animals ahead were squealing and grunting with pleasure. Once across the river, they would be safe from the flames.
“Now we’ll soon be there!” exclaimed Bumper hopefully. “I can smell the water, Billy.”
“I’m glad of it, for I’m nearly dead.”
A little squeaking voice suddenly startled them, and out of a hole in the nearest tree popped the head of Stripe the Chipmunk. “Bumper! Bumper!” he squealed in his high, piping voice. “Is it true the woods are on fire?”
“Yes, Stripe, and you’d better hurry to the river.”
“But I can’t! I broke my leg last week, and I can’t use it. Do you think I’ll be safe in this hole?”
“No, of course not! All the trees will fall down and be burnt up.”
“Then I’ll burn with them. Oh! Oh! What can I do?”
Bumper stopped and looked at him. Stripe was a fat, healthy fellow, and weighed so much that Bumper wondered if he could carry him on his back.