This was just the thing that Spotted Tail, crouching and trembling in a corner, dreaded the most. He was so shaken and horrified by the result of his treachery that he had to be pushed forward when they called him.
“Tell us the truth, Spotted Tail,” said Old Blind Rabbit severely. “You’re on trial now.”
There is some good even in the worst of us, and although Spotted Tail had done many wicked things, he still possessed a sense of honor. He could have lied out of it, and declared his innocence, for no one had direct evidence that he had started the wicked stories, except the birds. Yes, he could easily have cleared his skirts by declaring that Shrike had made up the whole story, and that he knew nothing of it.
But he was frightened and repentant. He was no longer defiant. He looked so humiliated that some of the gentler rabbits pitied him.
“I’ll tell the truth,” he stammered finally. “I did start the story, and ask Shrike to spread it. I was jealous of Bumper, and wanted to have him driven from the woods. I am sorry now, but that won’t help what’s happened.”
“No,” replied Old Blind Rabbit severely, “after the milk is spilt it does no good to cry over it. You betrayed your own people, and nearly caused the death of many of them. Now what punishment do you think you deserve?”
Spotted Tail hung his head in fear and humiliation.
“There is only one punishment to suit the case,” Old Blind Rabbit said after a pause, “and that is to be banished from the woods. Never again can you speak to any of your people, nor shall they speak to you. Go, Spotted Tail, go, and never return! Is that not a just punishment?”
“Yes! Yes!” cried many, and the leaders of the burrows shook their heads in assent.
But before he could retire from the burrow in shame and disgrace, Bumper hopped from his corner, and faced the assembly.