And he wasn’t lonely any more because, you see, that was part of his fortune.
But this time he didn’t travel alone very far. For just as he passed a nice, home-like looking thicket, out stepped a bird. “Come along,” he called cheerfully. “The rest of the flock are settled down by this time. I’ll show you the way.” And he went scuttling ahead through the grasses with Nibble hopping at his heels.
They were right near a cluster of comfortable little thorn trees which grew on the edge of the Bluff where it leaned away out over the Sandy Beach below when they heard a startling noise. And the quail that was with Nibble spread his wings and hurried on as fast as he could fly. For the quail weren’t asleep at all. They were just ahead of him, all fluttering and scuttling and crying together.
“Danger!” thought Nibble. For it made his very heart beat fast just to hear them. “Which way shall I run?” Then he remembered the last line of his fortune; so he crept up closer instead. Presently he stopped to listen—a weak little voice from under his very feet called, “Whit, whit!” in the saddest tone.
He sat straight up and demanded: “What’s the trouble?”
“Oh,” mourned Bob White, frantically beating his wings, “my mother ran under the edge of the bank and the earth caved in. And we can’t dig her out again.”
And they couldn’t, either, for the clay was all full of the tough, tangled roots of the thorns.
“I can,” said Nibble Rabbit. “All troubles are mine but my own. Where do I begin?”
So they showed him the little bit of a hole where they had tried it themselves and he settled his strong hindfeet and moved the little clawed spades of his forepaws so fast they fairly twinkled. When he found a root he used his chisel teeth. As soon as he gnawed it through his paws would begin to fly again. And the quail crowded around and whispered to each other. Presently they began to croon a sort of song. “He’s coming, coming, coming soon.” And the little quail deep in the bank would answer.
The earth was loose, so she didn’t quite smother, but she did need a full breath of air. The time seemed very long to her. But it seemed longer still to Nibble Rabbit. Those roots were so tough his jaws ached. He had dug so hard his legs were getting numb. And the birds outside had lost sight of his tufty white tail. But they knew how he was working, for they could see the dirt fly when he kicked his strong hind feet to clear it out of the hole.