“I wonder how he got away,” said Nibble, stamping impatiently. He’d come from eating a dandelion head in the Quail’s Thicket to see what Watch had to say.
“I can tell you,” came the soft whisper of the whippoorwill who had skimmed a drink as he flew across the pond, leaving a wake of tiny, quiet ripples. “There’s still deep water in the ditches. Silvertip splashed along in it to hide his trail and then sneaked into the culvert where it runs under the woods road. The frogs say he almost drowned. But he shivered in there with only his nose out until Trailer circled past. Then he ran back in the ditch on the other side and jumped over to a tree that was broken off by the terrible storm. He climbed up the limbs to the broken stump—it’s ten good wingbeats above the ground—and curled up in a woodduck’s nest. And he ate every egg she’d laid, too. Now he’s coming this way.”
Silvertip hid under the culvert until Trailer circled past.
“My stars, Nibble!” exclaimed the doctor, “you can’t sleep here. Warn Watch and hide somewhere up near the barn!” So off Nibble ran.
CHAPTER XII
HOW LONG EARS HEARD BAD NEWS
The minute the whippoorwill said that Silvertip the Fox was coming right back into the very woods Tommy Peele and his cousin Sandy and the dogs had just driven him out of, they knew he did it for just one reason: he was bound to catch Nibble. So that was no place for a sensible bunny. It was really pretty scary.
But you know Nibble. He can’t stay frightened, because he’s so terribly curious. Before ever he hunted himself a safe place to sleep he had to sneak into the Brushpile and listen to the Bad Little Owls. They were just creeping out from beneath it, where they had hidden away from Chaik Jay and his family.
“Are you all right?” asked Mr. Owl. “I feel better since I slept, but those jays gave us a terrible mauling.”
“My poor wings!” mourned his wife. “I am ashamed to be seen in them.”