“Oh, if I could run up a tree, I shouldn’t be afraid, either,” remarked Fuzzy Wuz. “Even Juggerjook couldn’t frighten me then.”
“Kernels and shucks! Juggerjook!” cried Chatter Chuk, scornfully. “Who cares for him?”
“Don’t you fear him?” asked Fuzzy Wuz, curiously.
“Of course not,” said the squirrel. “My people often go to his den and leave nuts there.”
“Why, if you make presents to Juggerjook, of course he won’t hurt you,” returned the rabbit. “All the beasts carry presents to his den, so he will protect them from their enemies. The bears kill wolves and carry them to Juggerjook to eat; and the wolves kill foxes and carry them to Juggerjook, and the foxes kill rabbits for him. But we rabbits do not kill animals, so we cannot take Juggerjook anything to eat except roots and clover; and he doesn’t care much for those. So we are careful to keep away from his den.”
“Have you ever seen him or the place where he lives?” asked the squirrel.
“No,” replied Fuzzy Wuz.
“Suppose we go there now?”
“Oh, no! Mother said—”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ve looked at the den often from the trees near by,” said Chatter Chuk. “I can lead you to the edge of the bushes close to his den, and he’ll never know we are near.”