Children of the Wild

by Sir Charles G. D. Roberts

"As he was feasting greedily on the carrot the Boy appeared, with the white dog at his heels. He did not look nearly so terrible as the gander. So, angry at being disturbed, and thinking he had come for the carrot, Young Grumpy ran at him at once.

"But the Boy did not run away. Surprised at his courage, Young Grumpy stopped short, at a distance of two or three feet from the Boy's stout shoes, sat upon his haunches with his little skinny black hands over his chest, and began to gurgle and squeak harsh threats. The Boy laughed, and stretched out a hand to touch him. Young Grumpy snapped so savagely, however, that the Boy snatched back his hand and stood observing him with amused interest, waving off the white dog lest the latter should interrupt. Young Grumpy went on blustering with his muffled squeaks for perhaps a minute. Then, seeing that the Boy was neither going to run away nor fight, he dropped on all fours indifferently and returned to his carrot.

"There was nothing pleased the Boy better than seeing the harmless wild creatures get familiar about the place. He went now and fetched a saucer of milk from the dairy, and set it down beside Young Grumpy, who scolded at him, but refused to budge an inch. The yellow cat—an amiable soul, too well fed to hunt even mice with any enthusiasm—followed the Boy, with an interested eye on the saucer. At sight of Young Grumpy her back went up, her tail grew big as a bottle, and she spat disapprovingly. As the stranger paid her no attention, however, she sidled cautiously up to the milk and began to lap it.

"The sound of her lapping caught Young Grumpy's attention. It was a seductive sound. Leaving the remains of his carrot, he came boldly up to the saucer. The yellow cat flattened back her ears, growled, and stood her ground till he was within a foot of her. Then, with an angry 'pf-f-f' she turned tail and fled. The stranger was so calmly sure of himself that she concluded he must be some new kind of skunk—and her respect for all skunks was something tremendous.

"Having finished the milk and the carrot, Young Grumpy felt a pressing need of sleep. Turning his back on the Boy and the dog as if they were not worth noticing, he ambled off along the garden fence, looking for a convenient hole. The one-eyed gander, who had been watching him with disfavor from the distance, saw that he was now no longer under the protection of the white dog, and came stalking up from the other end of the yard to have it out with him—thief of eggs and murderer of goslings as the bird mistook him to be! But Young Grumpy, having found a cool-looking hole under the fence, had whisked into it and vanished.

"As matters stood now, Young Grumpy felt himself quite master of the situation. His heartless mother was forgotten. Farmyard, clover-field, and cool green garden were all his. Had he not routed all presumptuous enemies but the Boy? And the latter seemed very harmless. But a few days the garden occupied all his attention—when he was not busy enlarging and deepening his hole under the fence and digging a second entrance to it. He noticed that the Boy had a foolish habit of standing and watching him; but to this he had no serious objection, the more so as he found that the Boy's presence was often accompanied by a saucer of milk.

"It was not till after several days of garden life that, lured by the memory of the carrot, he again visited the barnyard. At first it seemed to be quite deserted. And there was no sign of a carrot anywhere. Then he caught sight of the yellow cat, and scurried toward her, thinking perhaps it was her fault there were no carrots. She fluffed her tail, gave a yowl of indignation, and raced into the barn. Neither the white dog, nor the Boy, nor the one-eyed gander was anywhere in sight.

"Young Grumpy decided that it was a poor place, the barnyard. He was on the point of turning back to the green abundance of the garden, when a curious clucking sound attracted his attention. At the other side of the yard he saw a red hen in a coop. A lot of very young chickens, little yellow balls of down, were running about outside the coop. Young Grumpy strolled over. The chickens did not concern him in the least. He didn't know what they were, and, as no flesh was in his eyes good to eat, he didn't care. But he hoped they might have such a thing as a carrot about them."

"Oh-h-h! What would they have a carrot for?" protested the Babe.

Uncle Andy scorned to notice this remark. "When Young Grumpy approached the coop," he continued, "the red hen squawked frantically, and the chickens all ran in under her wings. Young Grumpy eyed her with curiosity for a moment, as she screamed at him with open beak and ruffled up all her feathers. But in the coop was a big slice of turnip, at which she had been pecking. He knew at once this would be good, perhaps as good as a carrot, and he flattened himself against the bars trying to get in at it.