“Patience, patience, my young friend,” said the old crow gravely. “I shall come to that presently.”
Wongo felt very comfortable and lazy now. He stretched himself out on a warm rock in the sun and waited good-naturedly for what his friend had to say. He grunted with satisfaction and contentment as he fuzzed out his hairy coat and felt the rays of the sun sink down to his skin. When Wongo had eaten his fill he always was sleepy.
“As you evidently haven’t anything to do this morning,” continued the crow, “I’ll go on with what I was going to say.”
“Go on,” grunted Wongo, and his eyes were nearly closed.
“For goodness sake don’t go to sleep!” called Kaw, suddenly alert. “There are things to do, and to do now if we expect to see another winter in Timbertangle—Here! Wake up!”
“What’s the matter?” grunted Wongo. “Who’s going to sleep? I was never more awake in my life.” With a great effort, he opened his eyes wide to prove what he said. “What is there to do and who is going to do it?”
“Well, that sounds more like it,” said Kaw. “If you really are awake, come on over to Cho-gay’s cave and we will talk there.”
The little bear got up very slowly, and shook himself carefully all over, beginning with first one leg and then the other and ending with the little flap he called a tail.
“All right, I’m ready,” he said, “only it seems to me the really sensible thing to do would be to take a nap.”
Kaw chuckled. “It’s plain to me the nap will soon take you if you don’t take it, if we wait here one minute longer. This is no time for naps, my friend. You and I have work to do. I have a plan, you see.”