Bumper the White Rabbit in the Woods

by George Ethelbert Walsh

No one had been more surprised than Bumper at this sudden welcome. At first he was for telling them he was no leader, and not fit to be their king; but, as he was very lonely and without a home, the fear they might drive him out of the burrow if he protested and explained he was just an ordinary timid white rabbit that had strayed from the city decided him to keep quiet and accept the situation.

Playing king was not an agreeable rôle for Bumper. In the first place, he felt unequal to it; and, in the second, he felt a good deal like an impostor. How Jimsy and Wheedles, his two brothers in the city, would laugh at the idea! They didn’t think he possessed any kingly qualities. They would even dispute his leadership in their own family.

But one thing gave Bumper considerable self-confidence. He was the only white rabbit in the woods. None of the wild animals, except Buster the Bear, who had spent a few years in a city Zoo, had ever seen a white rabbit. They didn’t believe such a creature lived. And the pink eyes! Why, they alone were enough to distinguish him from his country cousins, and set him apart as one to be admired.

There was no question about the admiration all the rabbits felt for him. Respect amounting almost to awe for his wonderful fur of white, and his eyes of a delicate shade of pink, made them feel that he was a real king of their tribe.

Bumper, after a while, grew accustomed to this admiration, and he began to feel pardonable pride in his beautiful fur. Perhaps, after all, there was something to the story the Old Blind Rabbit told. If looks made one a king then certainly Bumper was entitled to the position. He recalled the words of his mother, when she told him he was the handsomest of her children, with the purest white fur and the pinkest of pink eyes. Was that another indication that he was designed by nature to rule over his wild people?

But on one point Bumper entertained no illusions. He was conscious of his ignorance of the woods and the ways of the wild creatures. Why, he hardly knew one from another! He had failed to recognize Mr. Crow on their first meeting, and it is doubtful if he would have known Mr. Fox immediately if Mr. Bull-Frog hadn’t pointed him out. Buster the Bear he had recognized, for he had seen bears in the city Zoo, and the Bats and Mr. Sewer Rat were old city friends of his.

But the woods were full of other strange animals. He heard Spotted Tail, a big gray rabbit, and Fuzzy Wuzz, a demure little maiden of a rabbit with soft brown eyes, refer repeatedly to Billy the Mink, Mr. Beaver, Sleepy the Opossum, Browny the Muskrat, Washer the Raccoon and Curly the Skunk. Now to Bumper all these names meant nothing, for he had never met the owners of them.

Were they friends or enemies of the rabbits? If by chance he should meet one what would he do? Run away as from a great danger, or greet him pleasantly? Which were the dangerous animals, and which were the harmless ones?

Unable to answer this question, and dreading lest he make a mistake that might cause him embarrassment if he went out hunting with the pack, he pleaded weariness from his travels, and remained in the burrow for three whole days.

During this time he made it a point to ply the Old Blind Rabbit with questions, storing up in his mind for future use any words of wisdom that dropped from the shrunken lips of the former leader. His attention flattered the Old Blind Rabbit, who told Bumper many tales and stories of his people, and of the troubles they experienced in the woods.