There was a noise in the branches overhead, and the raccoon crawled down a few feet. Washer looked at him, and then retreated a step or two. It was not a little raccoon, but a big one, with sharp claws and fine, white teeth. He was so much bigger than Washer that he felt a little awe of him.
“Why do you call the wolves your brothers?” the raccoon asked. “You’re a raccoon, aren’t you? Then the wolves can’t be your brothers. They’re the enemies of my people.”
Washer looked a little embarrassed. “Yes, I’m a raccoon,” he replied, “but the wolves saved me, and Mother Wolf brought me up as one of her own. I’ve always lived with her in her den. She’s been kind to me, and I love her.”
The big raccoon showed his teeth and crawled down another branch. “You love a wolf!” he said angrily. “Then you’re a traitor to your own people!”
Washer was greatly surprised and distressed by this remark. “No, I’m not a traitor. Because I love Mother Wolf for what she’s done for me isn’t any reason why I shouldn’t love my own people.”
“I hear them coming back!” snapped the raccoon in the tree. “I must be off or they’ll catch me. This tree is too small. I’ll find a bigger one.”
“Yes, do hurry! I hear them howling now. They’ll be here soon.”
The big raccoon dropped to the ground and stood by the side of Washer. He was so much bigger that Washer felt like a baby alongside of him. He was a fierce old creature, too, for he kept gnashing his teeth and switching his tail.
“Well, aren’t you coming with me?” he asked. “If you know the woods you might lead me to a good hiding place.”
“No, I can’t go with you,” replied Washer a little sadly. “I must wait for my brothers and Mother Wolf. They’re all the friends I have.”