Bumper's calling him by that name very naturally angered him. It was a slight, a slur upon his voice, and he resented it at once. It must be remembered also that the crow had never seen a white rabbit before, and Bumper's appearance floating on the plank had excited the bird's curiosity. White rabbits don't run wild in the woods, and Bumper was almost as much a mystery to the crow as the latter was to the former. All the rabbits Mr. Crow knew were gray or brown, with a white belly and tail, and none of them had pink eyes. So it was quite natural that the black bird should be curious and surprised at the sight of a pure white rabbit, with pink eyes, floating down the river on a raft.
"Caw! Caw!" screamed the crow, flapping his wings so that the wind made by them ruffled Bumper's hair.
"Yes, yes, Mr. Caw. I understand," replied Bumper, getting excited by the nearness of this big, black thing.
"How dare you make fun of me!" cried Mr. Crow, striking the tip of Bumper's ears with his wings. "I'll teach you to laugh at my voice."
With that he struck out with both wings, and nearly upset Bumper from his raft. Frightened by this exhibition of anger, Bumper's teeth chattered, and his voice shook.
"I wasn't making fun of your voice, Mr. Caw," he said. "I think it's a very sweet and pleasant voice. Please don't upset my raft."
The crow, a little mollified by this flattery, circled around the raft, and surveyed the scene below with eyes filled with curiosity.
"What are you, anyway?" he called down at last. "You look like Mr. Rabbit, but I never saw one so white before. What's your name? And what are you doing on that raft?"
"I'm Bumper, the White Rabbit, and—"