Of all the creatures of the woods Killer the Snake had the reputation for sly deception that made him the most distrusted. Perhaps his reputation was not founded upon justice, but at any rate Bumper was not easy in mind when Killer crawled away in the bushes, after the agreement, without a word as to his intentions.
Killer’s favorite pastime was robbing nests of their eggs and young birds, or hunting Hoppy the Toad, which he swallowed whole. When such food was not to be found, he would sometimes raid the burrows of the larger animals. He had been known to run off with the young of Gray Back the Weasel and Stripe the Chipmunk.
Bumper’s fears that Killer might cause trouble seemed unfounded, however, and nothing was heard of Killer for the first day and night. Everybody seemed so busy finding a home that no one gave any attention to his coming and going.
Rusty the Blackbird reported that Killer was in the thick woods, but what he was doing there he could not say. He had kept an eye on him for a time, and then had to fly away to attend to his own business. The rest of the birds had not seen him at all, and his presence was something of a mystery.
On the second day, however, Bumper was returning to a burrow that he and Fuzzy Wuzz had discovered for their future home, when he was startled by the plaintive cries of Hermit the Thrush among the bushes. At first Bumper thought Hermit was talking to her mate, but when the cries increased he hopped in her direction.
“What’s all the noise about, Hermit?” he called. “Can’t you find a place for your new home?”
“Oh, Bumper,” exclaimed Hermit, fluttering toward him, “Killer is trying to rob my nest. I have one egg in it, and he’s going to steal it.”
Bumper gave a big jump through the bushes, and landed close to the place where Killer was coiled. Near him was Hermit’s nest in a small bush just off the ground. A tiny greenish egg was in it.
“Killer, if you break the law of the woods you’ll be punished,” Bumper exclaimed in anger. “The truce between the animals and birds hasn’t ended yet.”
Killer turned defiantly upon the white rabbit, and hissed: “Don’t bother your head, Bumper. This egg doesn’t belong to you. Now run along, and forget it.”
“You remember what I did to you the other day, Killer,” Bumper replied. “Well, this time you won’t get off so easily. If you don’t go away immediately, I’ll call all the birds and animals of the woods to punish you. They will outlaw you, and be your enemy forever.”
“That wouldn’t be anything new, Bumper,” hissed Killer. “They’re my enemies now. I’m going to have this egg for my breakfast. I’m mighty hungry.”
“No, you’re not,” answered Bumper, springing toward him. Killer dodged back and then shot his head forward as if to strike, but Bumper dodged and landed on the other side. His idea was to play the same game on Killer that had been so successful before but they were in a tangled thicket now, and not out in an open space.
He soon found it impossible to run around Killer in a circle until he got him dizzy watching. Indeed, Killer had the advantage of him. He could turn and crawl through the thicket much faster than the rabbit. Once in his effort to escape the darting head of the snake, Bumper stumbled and got caught in the bushes. Killer laughed heartily.
“In another minute I’d had you,” he said. “You can’t play that old trick on me in here. If you don’t look out I’ll get you yet, and choke you to death. If I once coil my body around you it will be the last time you’ll interfere with me.”
Bumper began to realize that he was in real danger, for there was little room in the bushes for him to hop around, and if he got caught once in the thicket Killer could crawl upon him and strangle him to death. So he had to be more cautious. He kept at a greater distance, but made darts at the serpent as if he intended to jump at him. Killer approached nearer, driving him further and further away from the nest.
“Now come on and fight me,” Killer jeered. “What’s the matter? Are you afraid of me?”
“Hermit! Hermit!” Bumper called over his shoulder.
When there was no response, Killer laughed at him.
“Hermit’s left you,” he said. “She’s afraid to stay here. She didn’t think enough of her egg to fight for it, but she let you risk your life to protect it. Now you see how much friendship amounts to!”
Bumper kept on calling, but Killer was apparently right. Hermit had left, and was not within hearing distance. Still for the sake of making Killer observe the truce, Bumper stood his ground, and took every advantage he could to run in and snap his teeth.
In spite of this the snake drove him away, and then crawled back to the nest. He reached the bush and started to climb it. Bumper made a furious rush to frighten him away. Then he stopped. He couldn’t go forward nor backward. He was caught in the thick bushes, with his plump body jammed in between two stout saplings and his neck entangled among briers and bushes.
“Ah! Ha!” exclaimed Killer jubilantly. “You’re caught now, and I’ll make short work of you. After I’ve strangled you to death, I’ll eat the egg at my leisure.”
Bumper struggled frantically to get loose, and Killer approached him, with his forked tongue darting out threateningly. Bumper suddenly felt weak and faint. The sight of Killer drawing nearer frightened him. He could neither run away nor protect himself.
It did seem like the last of Bumper. Killer was certain that he had him, and Bumper thought so too. With his neck caught in the vines, the rabbit couldn’t even turn to face his enemy. But neither one had reckoned with Hermit the Thrush.
It is true she had flown away, but not for the purpose of deserting Bumper. She thought Bumper would keep Killer busy until she could summon help.
And what a lot of helpers she found! When Killer was within a foot of Bumper there was a sudden sound of whirring wings, and the forest was darkened by the flight of birds that swooped down upon them. There were Rusty the Blackbird and his mate, Singer the Mocking Bird, Piney the Purple Finch, Belt the Sapsucker, Yellow Breast the Chat, and goodness knows how many others! It seemed as if all the birds of the North Woods were there, whistling, calling, crying and shrieking.
Killer looked up and caught sight of this great host, and then ducked his head. He tried to crawl away and hide in the bushes, but the birds found him and darted down at him. Their sharp bills caught him in the head, the body, the tail, and wherever he was the most sensitive.
Killer tried to fight back at first, but there were too many for him. They attacked him on all sides, and punished him so that he ached and pained all over. Then he ran, and the birds followed him. Again and again they pecked him. It was like sticking dozens of needles in his body.
Finally he discovered a hole in the ground, and disappeared in it, but not until after he had been wounded so many times that he could not count them. It was a proper punishment for breaking the truce, and the birds were glad they had been in time to save Hermit’s egg. They helped the rabbit to get out of the thicket, and then all talked together and laughed and sang until the woods echoed with the noise. Next story will tell of an adventure with Sneaky and Mr. Fox.