Uncle Elias angrily tossed his club on the wood pile and went to bed. Meanwhile Winkie, waiting until his tramping feet had gone away, came out of her hiding place.
“Now for something good to eat!” thought the little woodchuck.
She was always ready to eat, and, somehow or other, the grass she now nibbled tasted sweeter than any she had ever chewed in her pen. It was almost as good as carrots. Perhaps it was because Winkie was free.
On through the night wandered the little ground-hog girl. She did not know which way she was going—she did not care as long as no dogs, wolves or foxes chased her. She ate some more, and then, finding a hollow log, she curled up in it and went to sleep.
Winkie awakened before daylight, and crawled out. She felt that she must be on her way again.
“I want to find my folks,” she said wistfully. She was getting tired of going about by herself, and even when she had been with Larry and Alice she had longed for a game of tag with Blinkie and Blunk.
Wandering on, Winkie came to a farmhouse. Though she did not know it, this was the place where Uncle Elias lived. But the cross man was asleep now, and so was Buster, curled up in the straw of his kennel.
“I smell something very good!” suddenly whispered Winkie to herself. “It smells like carrots and turnips and other good things!”
She sat up on her haunches, as Larry had taught her to do, a trick she would have learned by herself, anyhow, and again she sniffed. The good smell came from a side porch of the farmhouse, and, going softly up the steps, Winkie saw and smelled some baskets of vegetables.
“Oh!” thought the little woodchuck. “Some one must have known I was coming and they left these here for me! Oh, how good they are!”