The white rabbit was quite melancholy over his guest's persistent refusal to eat of his good cheer. "But perhaps," he said, "creatures of your race never eat. I see that your nose does not wiggle when you speak, so perhaps you cannot eat, eh?"

"Oh, yes," said Toto in an off-hand way. "Yes, we _can_; and sometimes we _do_. I have eaten in the course of my life, and I may do it again, but not to-night."

At this moment the guests all came pouring into the supper-room; and Toto began to think that it would be wise for him to slip away quietly, as it must be near his own supper-time, and his grandmother would be wondering where he was. So he took a friendly leave of the master of ceremonies, and nodding to the woodchuck, he left the supper-room, made his way through the ball-room, and dropping once more on his hands and knees, proceeded to wriggle his way as best he might through the underground pa.s.sage.

A very grimy and dusty boy he was when he came out again from behind the juniper-bush. He shook himself as well as he could, laughed a little over the recollection of the unsuccessful rabbit suitor kicking his heels in the air to express his devotion, and started on his way home.

He had spent a much longer time than he had meant to at the rinktum, and it was growing quite dark. He hurried along, for his way lay through a part of the wood where he did not like to go after dark.

The owls lived there, and Toto did not like the owls, because none of his friends liked them. They were surly, growly, ill-tempered birds, and were apt to make themselves very disagreeable if one met them after dark. Indeed, it was said that Mrs. Growler, the old grandmother owl of the family, had once eaten several of Cracker's brothers and sisters. The squirrel did not like to talk about it, but Toto knew that he hated the owls bitterly.

"I hope I shall not meet any of them," said the boy to himself as he entered the wood. "I am not afraid of them, of course,--it would be absurd for a boy to be afraid of an owl,--but I don't like them."

The thought had scarcely crossed his mind, when he heard a sound of flapping wings; and a moment after a huge white owl flew down directly in front of him, and spreading its broad pinions, completely barred his pa.s.sage.

"Who?" said the owl.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'Who?' said the owl. 'Toto,' said the boy."]

"Toto," said the boy shortly. "Let me pa.s.s, please. I'm in a hurry."

"You're late!" said the owl severely.

"I know it," replied Toto. "That's why I asked you to let me pa.s.s. I don't want to talk to you, Mrs. Growler, and I don't suppose you want to talk to me."

"Whit!" cried Mrs. Growler (for it was no other than that redoubtable female). "Don't give me any of your impudence, sir! What do you mean by coming into our wood after dark, and then insulting me? Here, Hoots! Flappy! Horner! Come here, all of you! Here's this imp of a boy who's always making mischief here with that thieving racc.o.o.n. Let us give him a lesson, and teach him to stay where he belongs, and not come spying and prying into our wood!"

Immediately a rushing sound was heard from all sides, and half-a-dozen owls came hooting and screaming around our hero.

Toto held his ground manfully, though he saw that the odds were greatly against him. One owl was all very well; but seven or eight owls, all armed with powerful beaks and claws, and all angry, were quite another matter, especially as the darkness, which exactly suited them, made it difficult for him to tell in which direction he should beat his retreat, supposing he were able to beat it at all.

He set his back against a tree, and faced the hooting, flapping crowd, whose great round eyes glared fiercely at him.

"I've never done any harm to any of you," he said boldly. "I've never thrown stones at you, and I've never taken more than one egg at a time from your nests. You have always hated me, Mother Growler, because I am a friend of c.o.o.n; and you're afraid of c.o.o.n, you know you are.

Come, let me go home quietly, and I'll promise not to come into your part of the wood again.

"I'm sure, there's no inducement for coming," he added in a lower tone. "It's the scraggiest part of the whole forest,--only fit for owls to live in!"

"Hoo! hoo!" cried Mother Growler in a rage. "I'm afraid of c.o.o.n, am I?

A nasty, thieving creature, with an amount of tail that is simply disgusting! And our wood is scraggy, is it? Hoo! Give it to him, children!"

"Peck him!" cried all the owls in chorus; "scratch him! tear him!

hustle him!" and, with wings and claws spread, they came flying at Toto.

Toto put one arm before his face, and prepared to defend himself as well as he could with the other. His blood was up, and he had no thought of trying to escape. If he could only get Mother Growler by the head now, and wring her neck!

But blows were falling like hail on his own head now,--sharp blows from h.o.r.n.y beaks and crooked talons. They were tearing his jacket off.

He was dazed, almost stunned, by the beating of the huge wings in his face. Decidedly, our Toto is in a bad way.

Suddenly a loud crackling noise was heard among the bushes. It came nearer; it grew louder. Toto listened, with his heart in his mouth.

Surely, but one animal there was big enough to make a noise like that.

"_Bruin!_" he cried, with all the breath he could gather, panting and struggling as he was. "Bruin! help! help!"

A portentous growl answered his cry. The boughs crackled and burst right and left, and the next instant the bear sprang through the bushes.

"What is it?" he cried. "Toto, that was your voice. Where are you, boy? What is the matter?"

"Here!" cried Toto faintly. "Here, Bruin! The owls--" But at that moment the little fellow's voice failed, and he sank bleeding and exhausted on the ground.

"How-grrrrr-wow-_wurra_-WURRA-WURRA-WOW!!!"

In two minutes more there were no owls in that part of the wood.

Hoots, Horner, and the rest, when they saw the fiery eyes and glittering teeth of the bear, and heard his terrible roar, as he rushed upon them, loosed their hold of the boy, and flew for their lives. As for Mother Growler--

"I _did_ say," remarked Bruin, taking some feathers out of his mouth, "that I never would eat another owl unless it was plucked. Feathers are certainly a most inferior article of food; but in a case of this kind it is really the only thing to do. As c.o.o.n says, it settles the matter, and there is no further trouble about it. And now," continued the good bear, "how is my dear boy? Why, Toto! look up, boy. They are all gone, and you are c.o.c.k of the whole wood. Come, my Toto! I'll eat them all, if they have hurt the boy!" he added in an undertone.

But Toto made no reply. He had, in point of fact, fainted from exhaustion and excitement.

Bruin sniffed at him, and poked him from head to foot; then, finding that no bones were broken, he lifted the boy gently by the waistband of his breeches, and shambled off in the direction of the cottage.

CHAPTER XII.

The grandmother all this time was wondering very much where her Toto was. "What can have become of the boy?" she said to herself for the twentieth time. "He is always punctual at supper-time; and now it is more than an hour past. It must be quite dark, too, in the wood. Where _can_ he be?" And she went to the door and listened, as she had been listening ever since six o'clock. "Toto!" she said aloud. "Toto, do you hear me?" But no sound came in reply, save the distant hoot of an owl; and reluctantly the good woman closed the door again, and went back to her knitting. She felt very anxious, very much troubled; but what could she do? Blind and alone, she was quite helpless. Suppose the boy should have wandered off into some distant part of the forest, and lost his way? Suppose he should have encountered some fierce wild beast, unlike the friendly creatures with whom he played every day?

Suppose--But here the current of her anxious thoughts was interrupted by a sound; a curious sound,--a soft _thud_ against the door, followed by a scratching noise, and a sound of heavy breathing.

The poor grandmother turned cold with fear; she did not dare to move for some minutes; but the thud was repeated several times, as if somebody were trying to knock. She tottered towards the door, and said in a tremulous voice, "Who is there?"

"Only Bruin, ma'am," was the reply, in a meek growl.

Oh, how relieved the grandmother was! With hands that still trembled she unfastened the door. "Oh, Mr. Bruin!" she cried. "Dear Mr. Bruin, I am so glad you have come! Can you tell me anything about Toto? He has not come home, and I am very anxious indeed. I fear he may have met some wild creature, and--"

"Well, ma'am," said the bear slowly, "as for being wild--well, yes; perhaps you _would_ call her wild. And I don't say she was amiable, and she was certainly very free in the matter of claws; very free, indeed, she was!"

"What _do_ you mean, Mr. Bruin?" cried the poor old lady. "Claws? Oh!

then I know he _has_ been attacked, and you know all about it, and have come to break it to me. My boy! my boy! Tell me quickly where he is, and what has happened to him!"

"Don't be alarmed, ma'am," said Bruin. "Pray don't be alarmed! there are no bones broken, I a.s.sure you; and as for _her_, you need have no further anxiety. I--I saw to the matter myself, and I have no reason to think--no, I really have _no_ reason to think that you will have any further trouble with her."

"_Her!_" said the bewildered old grandmother. "I don't--I _can't_ understand you, Mr. Bruin. I want to know what has become of Toto, my boy."

"Certainly, certainly," said the bear hastily. "Very natural, I'm sure; don't mention it, I beg of you. As for a little blood, you know," he added apologetically, "that couldn't be helped, you see. I didn't come up quite soon enough; but we know the blood is _there_, after all; and a little of it outside instead of inside,--why, what difference does it make? He has plenty left, you know."

"Bruin, Bruin!" cried a faint voice, "do stop! You will frighten her to death with your explanations. Here I am, Granny dear, safe and sound, barring a few scratches." And Toto, who had been gradually recovering his senses during the last few minutes, raised himself from the doorstep on which the bear had laid him, and flung his arms round his grandmother's neck.

The poor old woman gave a cry of joy, and then burst into tears, being quite overcome by the sudden change from grief and anxiety to security and delight.