“It wasn’t the field-mice, Smarty! They never said a word. It was your own scaly tail that told on you.” Chirp spread his wings, opened his beak and stuck out his tongue at the wicked old beast. And Ouphe lashed his own tattling tail in an awful rage.
“It wasn’t the field-mice, was it?” he snarled. “Then who were you talking to? I’ll slit your gossiping throat for you!”
Tommy held Nibble up by his long ears
And right about then Nibble decided it was time to move. But he didn’t try to run. You see, Ouphe would have pounced on him. He turned softly around and slipped into the stack behind him.
And a queer place he found himself in. For the whole bottom of the hay was tunneled with holes. They went this way and that, twisting and turning until he lost himself entirely. And they were a tight fit for even a little rabbit to creep through. And dark! My, but that place was dark and scary—it was the darkest place Nibble had ever seen, darker even than a night when there isn’t any moon! And stuffy! For besides the sweet smell of the clover there was a horrible smothery weaselly one.
Pretty soon something caught his foot and he was so scared he gave a little “Ow!” But it was only a piece of wire and he soon got free again. All the same he heard a tiny scratch beside him which scared him more than ever.
Right then a voice, even tinier than the scratch, whispered, “Who’s there!”
“Nibble Rabbit!” he whispered back.
“A rabbit!” exclaimed the voice, “I knew I smelled one. Whatever are you doing here? This is where Ouphe the Rat lives when he’s at home.”