Billy the Mink was a cousin to Gray Back the Weasel, but being much larger and more ferocious when attacked he was more to be feared. In addition to this he could swim like a duck and dive like a stone. In fact, he preferred the water to the dry land, and was very proud of his fur coat. Sometimes he would sit on the bank of the river in the sun just to admire the beautiful, glossy fur that nature had given him. With the sun sparkling on it when wet or dry, it certainly was something to admire and envy.
Billy the Mink, unlike his namesake Billy the Porcupine, had the bad habit of sometimes raiding rabbit burrows for food, and if there were young bunnies in the nest he made away with some of them in spite of the protests of their fond parents. This habit had caused him to be feared and hated by the rabbits, which was a very natural thing.
Roaming through the woods one day shortly after his adventure with Browny the Muskrat, Bumper discovered Billy the Mink sunning himself near his home. He really didn’t want anything to do with Billy on account of his bad habits, and he was going to pass him without a word; but Billy caught sight of Bumper, and was suddenly envious of the beautiful fur of the white rabbit.
“I never saw a white rabbit before,” he hailed. “Come nearer and let me see your beautiful fur.”
Bumper wished to be polite and hopped closer.
“It really is white,” Billy added, admiring the fur. “I suppose you’re mighty proud of it.”
“I’m very fond of it, and glad I have it,” replied Bumper modestly. “Yes,” honestly, “I’m proud of it. I don’t think there’s any harm in saying that. We have a right to be proud of the dress nature gave us—a little proud, I mean, but not too much as some people are.”
Billy sneered, for he took this as a hint at his own well-known pride. “I suppose you mean by that I’m too proud,” he said.
“I wasn’t thinking of any one in particular,” replied Bumper. “I wouldn’t be so impolite as that.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t! You’re very modest and good today. Well, I know you referred to me.”
Bumper wished to end the conversation, and started to hop away, but Billy suddenly jumped to his feet.
“You’re so proud of your white coat that I’m going to soil it for you,” he exclaimed.
Before Bumper realized what he intended to do, Billy began pelting him with mud, which he dug up with his hind legs. It spattered all over Bumper, and some of it went in his eyes so that he couldn’t see which way to run. This was great fun to Billy, and he set up a shout of laughter.
“Now you’re as spotted as Mr. Turtle and nearly as black. Ho! Ho! What a sight!”
Even this humiliation of Bumper didn’t satisfy him. He wanted to roll him in the mud, and quick as a wink he leaped for him and caught him by the back. Then before Bumper could run away he had him down in the soft mud, which clung to him and turned his beautiful white fur a nasty brown.
“Now look at yourself!” laughed Billy. “You’re about as homely looking as any rabbit in the woods.”
Billy had returned to the place where he had been sunning himself, and flung himself down to rest and laugh. Bumper stood twenty feet away spattered from head to foot with the mud. He was so upset by this unwarranted attack and humiliation that for a moment he could not speak. His one desire was to get even with Billy, and punish him.
Then as if in answer to his wish there came the opportunity. Gliding out of the bushes with stealthy tread, approaching Billy from behind was Sneaky the Wolf. In their struggle neither one had noticed his approach. He had crept almost upon them before Bumper happened to see him.
Sneaky was after Billy the Mink, for he was much the nearest, and was larger and fatter than Bumper. He offered such a tempting dinner that Sneaky was all atremble, crouching for the spring.
Bumper was perfectly safe for two reasons. One was that Sneaky was thinking only of Billy and ignoring Bumper, and another was the distance was too great for Sneaky to reach the white rabbit in a single bound. It seemed like a just punishment for his rough joke in spattering Bumper with the mud. In another minute Sneaky would have him in his jaws, and Billy would never play another joke or raid a rabbit’s burrow.
“He who laughs last laughs the longest,” Bumper said to himself, smiling.
Then there came a sudden change over him. He seemed to see Billy all torn and bloody, and heard his pitiful squeals as Sneaky killed him. Oh, that was too severe a punishment for playing a rough joke! No, he couldn’t stand by in silence and see Billy killed even to satisfy a desire for revenge.
“Billy!” he called suddenly. “Billy, dive in the water! Don’t look around! Sneaky’s behind you! Dive! Dive!”
Billy had a horror of Sneaky the Wolf, and the very mention of his name sent the shivers through him. He didn’t wait to ask questions, not even to turn and look. He took a flying dive for the water just as Sneaky leaped for him.
Billy plunged into the water not a second too soon. It had hardly closed over him before Sneaky was there, snapping and snarling. Then finding that his victim had escaped him, for Sneaky was no diver or swimmer, he turned angrily upon Bumper to punish him for giving the warning.
But Bumper had taken advantage of the interval to escape. When Sneaky sprang to where he had been standing there was no rabbit in sight. Doubly angry at finding both of his victims gone, Sneaky snarled and snapped his teeth, trotting up and down the edge of the river, watching for the return of Billy or Bumper.
But they were wise enough to remain out of sight. Sneaky waited a long time, and then hid in the bushes and waited longer. But nothing happened. Then disgusted, and still very angry, he finally trotted away in the woods.
He hadn’t been gone long before a head popped out of a hole, and Bumper, with the mud all dried and caked on his fur, crawled out. He watched and listened to make sure he was alone, and then hopped to the bank of the stream.
“Oh, dear,” he said, “how will I ever get this mud off of me? It’s all dried on!”
As if in response to his words, a nose appeared out of the water, and Billy the Mink swam ashore. Bumper eyed him suspiciously at first, and stood ready to run; but Billy spoke to relieve his mind.
“Don’t go, Bumper!” he called. “Wait a minute!”
Swimming quickly ashore, Billy climbed up on the embankment. “That was a narrow squeak for me,” he added, panting a little from his exertions. “If it hadn’t been for you, Sneaky would surely have had me. Why did you warn me after I’d treated you so?”
“Because,” stammered Bumper, “I didn’t want to see you killed, Billy, even if you had spattered me with mud. But how am I ever going to get clean again? This mud is all caked on me.”
“I’ll clean you, Bumper. It’s the least I can do to repay you. Now stand by the river while I splash water over you. That will soon wash the mud off.”
It was a strange sight, Billy the Mink cleaning Bumper the White Rabbit by the edge of the river, each laughing and enjoying the work as if it was a new game, and if any one had seen them it would have caused no end of surprise. They were now as close friends as before they were enemies.
And if Bumper gets clean in time, and Billy doesn’t spatter more mud on him, you will hear in the next story of how Bumper met Mr. Beaver.