Now in the time of pleasant weather and the plentiful food it was no longer necessary for the pack of wolves to hunt together. They were strong enough to look out for themselves. So the wolves scattered to make their summer homes in the loneliest spots among the mountains.
The weeks passed by, and soon there was many a new family of woolly little cubs frisking about the rocky dens. The fathers and mothers watched them lovingly. The black lips seemed almost smiling and the fierce eyes grew soft. They were gentle and happy there together, though so cruel and hateful to all the world outside.
XI
THE MOLE
“THE ONE THAT DIGS THE BEST”
THE ONE THAT DIGS THE BEST
Deep down in their dark room underground the five mole babies lay fast asleep on a soft bed of leaves and grasses. The bed was not much bigger than a robin’s nest. The little moles cuddled together, with their pointed pink snouts resting on one another’s satiny bodies. Their little hind-feet sprawled behind them, and their big flat hands, with the pink palms turned outward, were spread close to their necks.