Sneaky deposited Washer at the foot of Mother Wolf, and spoke for the first time. “A nice little dinner for you and the children,” he said. “I brought him home alive so you could show the babies how to kill. It will be great sport watching them.”
At the sound of his voice, Washer made a desperate effort to escape, but Sneaky’s paw came down on his back and held him.
“He’s a lively little Raccoon,” Sneaky remarked, grinning so his white teeth showed.
Mother Wolf looked at Washer, turned him over with a paw, and sniffed at him. Then she raised her head and looked at her mate. “He’s only a baby Raccoon,” she said. “Where’d you find the nest? And what did you do with the others? Ate them up, I suppose! That’s why you’re so generous in bringing this one home to us.”
Washer thought there was a look of disgust in the eyes and voice, and Sneaky evidently thought so, too, for he looked a little crestfallen, and then said: “No, I didn’t find his nest. He was floating down the river on a board, and when he landed I caught him.”
Mother Wolf sniffed again, and looked a little incredulous. She turned Washer over again. “He’s a mere baby,” she murmured, “not much older than our dear little ones.”
“Yes, and he’ll be sweet and tender,” added Sneaky, stretching himself. “It won’t hurt our children to eat part of him after they’ve killed him.”
Mother Wolf did not seem anxious to kill Washer, nor was she ready to teach her little ones to kill. “We won’t kill him today,” she said finally. “My little ones are well fed, and they couldn’t eat more without hurting them. We will keep him until tomorrow.”
Sneaky was a little hurt at this remark, for he had planned to help with the feast when the others had eaten all they wanted, and he growled disconsolately: “What’ll we do with him over night? He’ll try to escape from us when we’re asleep.”