"Well, of course I know that," said the rat.
But Fuzz and Buzz, at any rate, did not want to be eaten by the owl who lived in the hollow tree, and they thanked the water-rat so much for his advice that he was quite pleased.
"Would you like some of our beech-nuts?" said Buzz.
"No, thank you," said the water-rat, whose voice, like the voices of all water-rats, was very gruff and hoarse; "I never eat that sort of thing. But it is very polite of you to ask me to have some, all the same."
Then, swimming sometimes beside them, and sometimes behind them, and sometimes in front of them, the rat went with them down the stream, and they told him where they were going and why they had to go.
"No food at all in your larder!" said the rat. "Dear me, that's bad. That is the worst of living on nuts and things of that sort. Now, I catch my food when I want it, and very good food it is too. Bacon and candle-ends are what I like best, but of course, living in the country as I do, I don't very often find any. In the spring, though, I eat a good many birds' eggs; and that reminds me that I know of an empty wren's nest near the edge of the wood. You might sleep there to-night, and go on to the barn in the morning. I will come with you and show it to you."
Fuzz and Buzz, whose mother had taught them very nice manners, thanked him again, and the three went down the stream together, and the rat talked away so fast that none of them saw that it was growing darker and darker. But soon the low hooting of an owl broke the silence that had fallen over the wood, and Fuzz and Buzz looked at one another in a great fright.
"Let's get into the wood and hide,—quick, quick!" said Buzz.
But the rat, who did not seem to be in the least afraid, laughed at her.
"Look how high the banks are," he said. "Long before we could get to the top of them the owl would swoop down on us. But a little farther on there are some thick bushes, and if we can get under them before he sees us, we shall be quite safe."