Then Old Mother Nature called each of the little people by name, commanding each to return at once. She spoke sternly, very sternly indeed. One by one they appeared from all sorts of hiding places, glancing fearfully towards Reddy Fox, yet not daring to disobey Old Mother Nature.
When at last all were crowded about her as closely as they could get, Old Mother Nature spoke and this time her voice was soft. “I am ashamed of you,” said she. “Truly I am ashamed of you. How could you think that I would allow any harm to come to you? Reddy Fox is here because I sent for him, but he is going to sit right where he is until I tell him he can go, and not one of you will be harmed by him. To begin with, I am going to tell you one or two facts about Reddy, and then I am going to find out just how much you have learned about him yourselves.
“It may seem queer to you that Reddy Fox belongs to the same family as Bowser the Hound, but it is true. Both are members of the Dog family and thus are quite closely related. Howler the Wolf and Old Man Coyote are also members of the family, so all are cousins. Look closely at Reddy and you will see at once that he looks very much like a small Dog with a beautiful red coat, white waistcoat, black feet and bushy tail. Now, Peter, you probably know as much about Reddy as any one here. At least you should. Tell us what you have learned in your efforts to keep out of his clutches.”
Peter scratched a long ear thoughtfully and glanced sideways at Reddy Fox. “I certainly ought to know something about him,” he began. “He was the very first person my mother warned me to watch for, because she said he was especially fond of young Rabbits and was the slyest, smartest and most to be feared of all my enemies. Since then I have found out that she knew just what she was talking about.” Johnny Chuck, Danny Meadow Mouse and Whitefoot the Wood Mouse nodded as if they quite agreed. Then Peter continued, “Reddy lives chiefly by hunting, and in his turn he is hunted, so he needs to have sharp wits. When he isn't hunting me he is hunting Danny Meadow Mouse or Whitefoot or Striped Chipmunk or Mrs. Grouse, or Bob White, or is trying to steal one of Farmer Brown's Chickens, or is catching Frogs along the edge of the Smiling Pool, or grasshoppers out in the Green Meadows. So far as I can make out, anything Reddy can catch furnishes him with food. I guess he doesn't eat anything but such things as these.”
“Your guess is wrong, Peter,” spoke up Reddy Fox, who had been listening with a grin on his crafty face. “I am rather fond of certain kinds of fruits. You didn't know that, did you, Peter?”
“No, I didn't,” replied Peter. “I'm glad to know it. I think it is dreadful to live entirely by killing others.”
“You might add,” remarked Reddy, “that I like a meal of fish occasionally, and eggs are always welcome. I am not particular what I eat so long as I can get my stomach full.”
“Reddy Fox hunts with ears, eyes and nose,” continued Peter. “Many a time I've watched him listening for the squeak of Danny Meadow Mouse or watching for the grass to move and show where Danny was hiding; and many a time he has found my scent with his wonderful nose and followed me just as Bowser the Hound follows him. I guess there isn't much going on that Reddy's eyes, ears and nose don't tell him. But it is Reddy's quick wits that the rest of us fear most. We never know what new trick he will try. Lots of enemies are easy to fool, but Reddy isn't one of them. Sometimes I think he knows more about me than I know about myself. I guess it is just pure luck that he hasn't caught me with some of those smart tricks of his.
“Reddy hunts both day and night, but I think he prefers night. I guess it all depends on how hungry he is. More than once I've seen him bringing home a Chicken, but I am told that he is smart enough not to steal Chickens near his home, but always to go some distance to get them. Also I've been told that he is too clever to go to the same Chicken yard two nights in succession. So far as I know, he isn't afraid of any one except a hunter with a terrible gun. He doesn't seem to mind being chased by Bowser the Hound at all.”
“I don't,” spoke up Reddy. “I rather enjoy it. It gives me good exercise. Any time I can't fool Bowser by breaking my trail so he can't find it again, I deserve to be caught. I am not even so terribly afraid of a hunter with a gun. You see, usually I can guess what a hunter will do better than he can what I will do.”