“It wasn’t a fair drawing!” they cried. “Try it over again. Spotted Tail played a trick on Bumper.”
“No,” interrupted Bumper, “we’ll not draw lots again. I’ll cross Swinging Bridge first.”
This decision was accepted with applause, and the rabbits trooped through the woods to Swinging Bridge. Bumper’s first sight of it made him shiver. It was worse than he had imagined. The chasm was at least thirty feet across, and the butt end of the tree was not more than eight inches in diameter, while the smaller end seemed to dwindle away into a mere whip. In fact, the tree could never have remained in its position if it hadn’t been for the vines suspending it.
“I’ll begin on this end,” Bumper said, choosing the butt end of the tree. His quick eye had seen the only possible chance for crossing. Half way across, where the tree grew smaller rapidly, there was a crotch which offered a firm footing. Bumper decided to walk out to this, and then reach the other side in one tremendous hop. That would be crossing the bridge, for nothing in the terms had been said about the manner of going.
While the others held their breath, and Fuzzy Wuzz shook and trembled with fear, Bumper hopped on the tree, and began making his way slowly along. He dared not look below where the river rolled and tossed over the rocks. He kept his eyes on the crotch ahead.
He reached this without accident. Then paused. The rest of the way was too perilous for any rabbit to proceed. Spotted Tail smiled to himself. He knew that it would be the last of the white rabbit if he attempted it.
Bumper crouched low, fastened his hind feet firmly in the crotch, and then, to the surprise of all, leaped into the air in one tremendous spring that carried him clear across to the other side. His heart was beating at a lively rate, but when he realized that he had performed the difficult feat a little glow of triumph spread over his face.
“Wonderful! Good for Bumper!” were the cries from the other side that reached his ears.
“Now Spotted Tail, it’s your turn!” some one said.
But Spotted Tail was white and trembling. He had never expected to be called upon to attempt it. With the death of Bumper in the river below, they would call the test off. It would be suicidal for another to try it. But now all was changed. Bumper was safe on the other side, and they were calling on him to cross. He crouched in abject fear, and seemed ready to ask for mercy when Bumper spoke.