Once more there was surprise and curiosity on the faces of the cubs. Washer had unintentionally betrayed a trick of all his ancestors. The raccoons nearly always dipped and washed their food in water before eating it. It was the most natural thing in the world for him to do it, but it was not until he saw the look of wonder in the eyes of his playmates that he realized this little act indicated once more what a wide difference there was between them.
“Do all raccoons wash their food before eating it,” continued one of the cubs.
Washer nodded his head and began daintily chewing the soft root. The cubs bit at the other end of it, but they saw nothing in it to appeal to their taste.
“What funny creatures raccoons must be, Little Brother!”
Washer was a little annoyed and angered by this remark, for he was a raccoon, and he wasn’t going to have his people ridiculed.
“They climb trees,” continued the speaker, “and wash their food before eating it. Isn’t it funny, brothers!”
They all set up a laugh, which increased Washer’s anger. “They’re no funnier than Wolves,” he blurted out suddenly. “You hunt in packs as if afraid, and sneak upon your victims instead of fighting them face to face. I thing that cowardly. Now raccoons don’t do that.”
“We didn’t mean to offend you, Little Brother,” replied the first cub, seeing Washer’s anger. “Next to being a wolf we’d rather be raccoons. Yes, indeed!”
The others repeated this until Washer felt sorry for his show of anger. Still he was quite sad, for he began to realize that he could not always be with his little brothers. The day would come when he would have to leave them. They were growing so big and so rough in their play that many times he had to retire and look on. Then, too, they were beginning to take long hunting trips through the woods, and he could not keep up with them. Sneaky in particular took delight in running him out of breath, and then laughing at him.