And more than the humans came to call on him. For the minute they turned their backs a great big beast, much bigger than Silvertip, put his forepaws up on the front of the cage and sniffed at him. He was nearly the same colour as Silvertip, only his back was more grizzled and he had a white collar as well as a white shirtfront like most wild things wear. But this beast didn’t have a hungry look; he was only curious—like Nibble is himself when he isn’t scared. All the same, Nibble was afraid of him.
Just about sundown all these visitors went away. This was the chance Chirp Sparrow was looking for. He flew down and perched on the cage. Then he cheeped very softly, to make Nibble look at him.
Nibble pricked up an ear. Then he jumped so hard that he hit the front of the cage and bounced back again, but he picked himself up and thumped and wriggled his puffy tail trying to show Chirp how glad he was to see him. “Mr. Chirp, Mr. Chirp!” he exclaimed. “You’ll know how to help me. You know everything!”
“Well, not everything,” answered Chirp. But he preened the feathers on his shoulders and cocked his head on one side the way birds do when they’re pleased about anything. For he was immensely flattered. “I don’t know everything,” he repeated, “but I’ll call a sparrow council, and we’ll see what can be done about it.” And something’s pretty apt to happen when the sparrows put their minds to anything.
“Now you listen to me,” he went on. “You eat what they feed you and keep strong. You aren’t in any danger right away. And you try to make friends with that Dog.”
“What Dog?” asked Nibble. He was puzzled.
“He was here just a minute ago,” said Chirp. “That big foxy-looking beast. He’s a great friend of ours. He has a big dish by the back door that’s always full of delicious things. And he pretends to go to sleep while we pick up the crumbs. You be just as polite as you can to him. I’ll be back in the morning.” And Chirp flitted off to the sparrow roost, leaving Nibble almost cheerful again. He couldn’t help feeling that all this excitement was rather interesting.
CHAPTER III
HOW NIBBLE TRICKED A FOE—AND MADE A FRIEND
Tommy Peele had tried to make his cage a comfortable one for Nibble to sleep in. But he didn’t know that a proper rabbit hole has fresh air blowing into it from above. The cage had only one dark, stuffy corner to hide in, or the open part behind a wire front. And there Nibble crouched in the hay Tommy had given him. But he kept cheerful. Chirp had said, “We’ll see what can be done about it,” and Nibble knew the clever Sparrow. So he just made a little song of the words until he sang himself to sleep with them.
Way ’long late toward the morning he woke up. His furry feet were tickling. So were his ears. And presently his shoulders tickled, too, where the fur stood straight up on them. Something was gnawing the floor of his cage.