“What’s that?” asked Doctor Muskrat.
Nibble peered along the ground. And he could see Louie Thomson’s boots moving very fast. “It’s that Man,” he exclaimed. “He’s running like Silvertip the Fox did when the Red Cow took after him.”
“Fine!” chuckled Doctor Muskrat. “He’ll never bring his wicked jaws back here again. And we can thank Tommy Peele for that.”
Then there was another sound. “What’s that?” asked Nibble. And Doctor Muskrat laughed. For it was Tommy Peele squealing with surprise because he’d found the secret that belonged to the Red Cow. “A calf! Oh, the cute little thing!”
The Red Cow walked around and around the trunk of that big tree roaring at him.
So Nibble and Doctor Muskrat both crept back down the tunnel to watch what was going on. The calf raised his head and looked at Tommy; then he got up on his shaky legs and sniffed at him. Because Tommy was a strange Beast with a strange smell and even a baby knows enough to be careful about strange things. But when he touched his little turned-up nose to the hand Tommy held out to him he smelled his mother. You know Tommy had been stroking her. So the foolish little rascal put out his little pink tongue, trying to lick Tommy’s fingers. And wasn’t his mother pleased because they were friends the very first thing!
Watch led the way, and Tommy walked beside the Red Cow and helped to steer her wobbly-legged calf all the way up to the barn. And the baby kept trying to kick up his silly little heels the way Nibble used to when he felt playful. And he just would run splash into all the puddles, and bunt and wriggle when they caught him. The Red Cow kept getting prouder and prouder every step, but even she was glad when they got safely home with him.
Nibble went with them as far as the Pasture. Doctor Muskrat was enjoying a nice sweet flag-root (the first one he’d dug that spring) when Nibble came loping back again. And he was the messiest rabbit you ever heard of. And so cross and disgusted!
“That bad baby!” he complained, beginning to clean the mud spots off his white shirt front. “He wouldn’t do anything I told him to. And then, the very first time I wasn’t looking, he danced in a puddle and splashed it all over me. From whiskers to—” he craned his neck about to look—“to tail! He all but drowned me!”