After the young ones learned to hunt for their own food it was not long before they had found and eaten every worm and grub and beetle anywhere near. The old and new tunnels ran in every direction, curving, zigzagging, and criss-crossing through the ground. There was hardly a spot of solid earth under all the grass in that meadow.
Now and then on cool nights the whole hungry family crept outside and prowled about, looking for lizards, snails, or frogs. Once in a while one of them found a dead bird or mouse or small snake. He sprang on it and tore it to pieces in an instant. The moles always ate as if they were starving. Drawing back their heads and hunching their backs they stuffed the food into their mouths with their clawed hands.
As summer passed on the young moles began to grow discontented. They were tired of staying at home. They were too big to crowd upon the nest in the nursery. Whenever two met in any of the narrow tunnels one had to back into a side track to let the other pass. The water was stagnant in the wells. Food was getting more and more scarce. Many a time there was a sound of scratching and fighting in the long dark halls of that underground home.
Soon each little mole began to think of having a home of his own, where there would be nobody else to crowd him, or quarrel with him, or snatch the best of everything to eat. So presently, one by one, they wandered away to find pleasanter places. One prowled into a garden, and tunnelled ridges all over the green lawn. One stumbled into a pond, but he did not drown, for he could swim with his webbed feet. He swam across to a small island and dug his house under a bank where he could catch plenty of frogs.
The three others strolled into a field that had been freshly ploughed. The soil was not wet nor hard nor stony, but just what they liked best. Each one chose a corner, and ran his main tunnel from end to end of the space to be used for his hunting-ground.
The five new homes were much like the old one. Each had a domed underground room with a nest of leaves and grasses in it, and several outlets to allow escape in case of danger. Each had one or more main tunnels, with smooth-pressed sides and many zigzag side tracks leading in all directions. Each one had tiny wells of water, and little storerooms for the winter supply of earthworms.
When winter came, and the ground was frozen hard above, each little mole, alone by himself, dived down into his safe deep nest and stayed there till early spring softened the soil. Then, livelier than ever, he shovelled his way out to the surface to find a mate. Soon in every pleasant little home under the ground there was a new family of soft, round babies, with their specks of eyes deep hidden in their satiny gray fur.