Ant ventures

Now in the morning, as we know, things look very different. What people make up their minds in the night to do the next day, they sometimes do not carry out at all. But with Anthony Ant this was not so. He was more than ever sure the right thing to do was to go back home. The more he thought of it, the surer he was.

“I’d better not be in too much of a hurry to start, after all,” he thought. “Mercy, me! Here I was, nearly running off without eating a mouthful or taking any of this good food to help me along!”

He found that some one must have been there after all while he was yet dreaming. He must have slept very late, indeed. So he had, for before the sun had wakened him that mischievous, nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee came to Clover Lodge and played a trick—a fine, good trick. He packed Anthony Ant’s lunch basket full of the most nourishing food there was to be had at Clover Lodge, and the little jar that had held the Wild-Rose Tea House cheese was now full to the brim with the sweetest Clover Lodge honey. Then, someway or other, there was a steaming pot of Clover coffee and clover pancakes piping hot, ready to be eaten with some of the Clover Lodge honey on them.

The reason for all this was that, out of curiosity, the nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee had come back. By the teardrops on the cheeks of Anthony Ant, who did not know himself that he had cried in his sleep, and by the way the little Ant looked, the wise, nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee knew what Anthony Ant had made up his mind to do. So he flew about doing the fine, good trick hard and fast, and then went about his business, knowing right well that it would not be long before Ant-Hill Manor would be having back again one of its very best workers.

You know how hard it is to eat your breakfast Christmas morning when your presents are waiting to be opened? Well, sir, that’s just the way it was with Anthony Ant trying to eat his breakfast this morning. As good as the breakfast was, it seemed as though it was the hardest work to swallow a mouthful, he was so crazy to be off to the left on his journey home. But he made himself eat the cakes and honey and drink the steaming, good clover coffee. Then he reached for his basket to pack, and how surprised he was to find it packed! He never would have known who had played this fine, good trick on him if it had not been for something scrawled on a leaf in a sort of buzzling handwriting, and the something said, in the slang language sometimes used by such a person as the wise, nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee, “Go to it!” And it was signed just “B.”

Whether that meant go to the eating of the lunch or to the carrying out of the home trip, Anthony Ant did not stop to figure out. He just gave a gulp of joy at the thought of such a kind, thoughtful friend as the nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee had been in his deeds, and, after a look about to see that hat, case, and basket were gathered together, he took them and started on the homeward way.

It was pleasant going too. The roughnesses were not so rough, and the smoothnesses were smoother. Why, he did not even have to think which way was right and which was left! It was as though a magnet kept drawing him but one way, and he knew that pulling feeling he had was the Ant-Hill Manor direction drawing him home.

Anthony Ant steered clear of the spot where he knew the jumpy Spider had nearly caught him for keeps. Not once did he take his eye off the track ahead to be sure no other jumpy Spider was ready to pounce upon him.

No jumpy Spider pounced upon him, but there was one very exciting Ant Venture yet. It happened at the top of the tallest thistle in the field. Anthony Ant had climbed it to get a good view of the land before he traveled too far over what might be the hardest part of the field. Sometimes it saves time, you know, to take time. So sometimes it saves time, in traveling, to take time to go a bit out of your way to have a look at the general path ahead as far as you can see.

Up went the Ant along the thistle stem, and he did not mind the thorns the least bit. He went around them and between them, and had no trouble getting to the top at last. He climbed over the top of the cluster of blossom heads. There were a few buds not yet opened, and a few blossoms quite opened, and a very few that had grown so old that their hair had turned white and was ready to fly away.

He was sitting on one of the fat little buds, where he could see over the heads of the grasses and low weeds, when all at once something flew down so near Anthony that the whirring of the wings nearly made him lose his balance. He dodged back between this bud and the next one where the something with wings could not get him. My, what an exciting world this was!

The thing with whirring wings that came to a stop near him was a little Yellowbird with black on his tail and wings. He was not after Ants at all, but after the seeds he knew were under the whiteheaded old blossoms. He busily pulled off the fluff which flew away into the summer air, and then he dug out the small seeds which were young and juicy and sweet, as they were not yet ripe and too hard.

Anthony thought it safe to speak to the bird, so he said, “O sir, would you mind telling me if there are any jumpy Spiders in this way to the left I am taking toward the brook?”

“Yes,” answered the Yellowbird. “There are lots of them.”

“Oh, my!” said poor Anthony Ant. “I was caught by one once, and nearly lost my life. What shall I do to escape them?”

“Ho!” replied the Yellowbird. “I should not mind them if I were you. I never do.”

“Yes, but you are big and can eat them up if you want to, and they are afraid of you,” said Anthony. “But, you see, I am so small they can eat me without a bit of trouble, and what to do, I cannot tell.”

“Where are you going?” asked the Yellowbird. “Are you running away from home? All the other Ants I have met this morning were busy at work. You are the only one I have seen doing nothing but sitting still.”

Anthony told him all about things, and the Yellowbird said, “Oh, well, then, I’ll help you. First of all, be on the watch for the webs, of course, and then steer clear of them. But if a jumpy Spider darts out at you from behind something where he has been hiding, just say my name three times to him in a loud voice, and he will run and hide. For if he thinks I am around he will hide himself, and if he knows you are my friend he won’t meddle with you. Now, good luck to you, and go home at once. You will find a straight-ahead road or course through this field. Keeping always to the left, as you now are, will bring you to the brook in time, and then you will know where you are.”

“Thank you so much!” said Anthony Ant, and took off his hat to bow politely.

You know little Yellowbirds like this one say something every time they dip their wings in flying across a field. Well, this little Yellowbird flew away soon, and as he flew he said out of real joy at finding Anthony Ant going back to Ant-Hill Manor: “Back home again! Back home again! Back home again!” every time he dipped his wings.