The red-headed girl, with the freckles on her nose, and a dimple in her chin, didn't stop until she was on the top floor of the big house where Toby's howls couldn't be heard. She opened the door of a dark room, and went in, slamming and locking the door after her.
"There, now I guess he can't find us!" she exclaimed.
Then to Bumper, she turned and began crooning: "You poor little rabbit! Did Toby hurt you? Don't be frightened now. I won't let him have you again. I'll buy you if it takes all my Christmas money. You're mine now!"
You can never imagine how these words soothed Bumper's ruffled feelings. It was like being rescued from a terrible giant who intended to dash out your brains and eat you for supper. Bumper's heart began to beat slower and slower until pretty soon it wasn't going any faster than the ticking of the clock outside in the hallway.
They sat there in the dark room for a long time, the girl rubbing Bumper's head and back and crooning gently to him. Then a noise outside—the sound of approaching footsteps—alarmed the white rabbit again.
"Edith!" a voice called. "Edith, are you up here?"
It was Mary, her cousin, calling, and the red-haired girl gently pushed open the door, and whispered.
"I'm in here, cousin Mary. Where's Toby?"
"He's looking for you. I think you'd better get out of the house before he finds you. Take Bumper with you, and we'll buy him something else to keep him quiet."
"Then I can keep him?—call him really and truly mine?"
"Yes, if you can get away with him. Toby isn't old enough yet for pets."
"He's old enough," sniffed Edith, "but he's been spoilt, and don't know how to treat them. If he ever lays hands on my rabbit again, I'll box his ears so hard he'll never forget it. That's what I'll do!"
Mary seemed to concur in this, for she smiled, and rubbed Bumper's head before adding. "He'd raise an awful howl, I suppose, if he knew you were here. You'd better go home now. You can get through the backyard without Toby seeing you."
"Let him see me if he likes," retorted Edith, shaking her red curls and tilting her freckled nose upward. "I won't let him have the rabbit. Aunt Helen ought to spank him. That's what he deserves."
Mary walked ahead down the stairs to see if Toby was around, and then when they reached the kitchen Edith climbed through an open window into the backyard. There was a thick hedge around the yard, and back of that another yard which smelt so sweet with flowers and green lawn that Bumper raised his head and sniffed.
My, what a whiff that was! There was a vegetable garden hidden back of the rose bushes, filled with crisp lettuce, golden carrots, emerald-green cabbages, blood-red beets, blanching celery, peas, beans, corn, potatoes, and green grass everywhere. It was a whiff from Rabbit Arcady, and Bumper forgot all the dangers he had been through.
"No, no, you mustn't jump out of my arms!" warned Edith when he struggled to get down and roll around in the green grass. "Toby might be looking."
There was an opening in the thick hedge, and through this the red-haired girl crawled into the second garden. If anything, this was a more wonderful garden than the first. The odors were intoxicating. There were flowers and birds and trees as well as succulent vegetables. A most wonderful elm tree spread out like an umbrella and shaded the whole lawn. Beneath this the girl stopped a moment, and let Bumper nibble at the green grass.
For a city rabbit who had never seen green grass growing, and had only tasted of vegetables several days or a week old, this visit to the garden was like a foretaste of what all rabbits must consider heaven. Nothing Bumper had ever eaten tasted quite so good as that grass, and when the girl picked a fresh, crisp carrot from the garden he couldn't believe it was anything but a magic carrot. It was so sweet and juicy that it made his mouth water.
"Now you must come in the house," Edith said after he had eaten so much that he was in danger of exploding like an over ripe tomato. "I'm going to keep you right in my bedroom to-night. Then daddy will make a house for you in the morning."
Bumper spent the night in a box lined with fresh, green grass at the foot of the little girl's bed, but not until after he had met another person whom he feared and disliked almost as much as the bad boy called Toby. She was a cross old nurse, who looked after Edith, and she didn't like rabbits—not live ones. She admired Bumper's soft, white hair, and remarked:
"Wouldn't it make a handsome fur neck scarf? I wonder how much it would cost."
Edith snatched the rabbit from her hands. "You wicked old thing!" she exclaimed. "I believe you'd kill Bumper just for his fur."
"What a funny little girl you are," the nurse laughed. "What are rabbits for if you can't use their skins for furs."
With that Edith clapped Bumper in the box, and sat on the lid. "I'm going to sit there until you go," she said.
The nurse laughed, and when she finally left the room the red-haired girl jumped up and locked the door. Then she patted Bumper again before slipping in bed for the night.
It was early morning before the rabbit heard another word from her. The moon peeking in through the window made Bumper feel quite at home, and with it came the sweet aroma of that garden, intoxicating smells of roses, green grass and succulent vegetables.
"Are you there, little Bumper?" the girl called just as the sun rose. She was in her thin nightie, with her wonderful braids of red hair streaming down her back. Bumper thumped on the box with both hind feet to express his delight at seeing her again.
"Now you're coming to bed with me," she added. And sure enough, she lifted the white rabbit from the box and carried him to her bed. It was soft and warm under the sheets, and Bumper began playing hide-and-seek with her toes, making her shout and giggle every time his whiskers rubbed against one. It must have been the noise they made that attracted the nurse, for she suddenly knocked on the door and tried to open it.
Edith sprang out of bed, and put the rabbit in his box before she opened the door. "Why was that door locked?" asked the nurse severely.
"Because," replied Edith saucily, "I didn't want you snooping in here in the night to steal bunny."
"Well, of all things! If you ever do that again, I'll tell your mother! Suppose the house took fire with you locked in here."
"I'd know enough to unlock the door, wouldn't I?" retorted the girl.
The nurse went to the bed and threw back the sheets to air them. Then, in angry amazement, she exclaimed: "You've had that dirty beast in the bed! Now don't tell me a story."
"Yes, Nursy, and we had a beautiful time playing hide-and-seek under the bedclothes."
The nurse stared hard at Edith, and then shook her head. "You're a naughty girl, and I'll give the rabbit to Carlo. See if I don't?"
This didn't frighten the girl a bit, and she laughed in the nurse's face; but it gave Bumper such a shock that he missed three heart beats and one of his whiskers, for he knew Carlo was the dog he had heard barking all night long.
The little white rabbit found a home already waiting for him in the prettiest corner of the garden, but before that the red-haired girl harnessed him to a ribbon, and let him eat grass and vegetables to his heart's content wherever he took a fancy to go. Edith lost her appetite apparently in watching her pet eat, for she wouldn't go into breakfast even after the nurse had called her several times; but finally, when her mother came out, and took her by the hand, she obeyed.
"Can't I take the rabbit in with me?" she asked.
"No, dear, put him in the pen over there. He'll be quite content alone."
So Bumper found himself alone in the garden, or rather in a pen shut off from the rest of the garden by stout chicken wire. There was a box in back of the pen, filled with soft grass and straw, and a tin pan filled with fresh water. There was such a variety of things to eat that he kept nibbling first a carrot, then a cabbage, then a blade of grass, then some corn, then a piece of bread, then some crackers, then a red beet, then a spear of grass again, and so on through all the long list of good things.
It was such a mixture that he was never sure just what he had in his mouth. It was just as if a boy or girl had crammed the mouth full of gum drops, chocolates, fudge, lollypops, taffy, peppermint, lemon and wintergreen drops, and a few pieces of fruit cake by way of change. How could he or she tell just what the teeth were munching on?
Bumper tasted them all, and thought that each one was sweeter and better than the other; but when he got around to the end of his circle he had to begin all over again to see if they didn't all taste better the second time. My, it was a feast that made his eyes open and his stomach swell like a toad's trying to swallow a gnat.
Edith came out so soon that Bumper knew right away that she hadn't eaten much breakfast, and half of it was in her hands, and apparently the other half was on her face instead of being in her stomach where it should have been.
"Do you like bread and jam?" she asked, poking the bread she had been eating at Bumper.
Like a well-bred rabbit, Bumper stuck his nose up and sniffed at the dainty proffered him; but when he got some of the jam on his nose he hopped away and sneezed. It was gooseberry jam, and Bumper hated gooseberries, although he had never tasted of them before.
"Oh, you funny bunnie!" exclaimed the girl. "Why don't you like jam?"
Then she caught a reflection of her face smeared with jam in the pan of water, and she laughed happily. "I don't wonder you don't like it on your face, Bumper," she said. "It does look awful, doesn't it? My, I must have nearly a quart on my face."
Then she began cleaning her lips and chin, using Bumper's pan of water for a wash basin. Bumper didn't object to this, but he did hope she'd remember to change it, and give him clean water to drink. Even gooseberry-jam-water wasn't to his liking.
Early in the morning Edith was carried away by the nurse for her lessons, and then her music teacher appeared, and Bumper could hear her fine, small voice singing in accompaniment to the piano. After that she came into the garden again to play with him.
But she was soon called away to lunch, and then she had to go walking with her mother, and it was nearly sundown when she returned. Her first thought was of the rabbit, and she came running pell-mell across the garden to greet him.
"Have you missed me, Bumper?" she asked, squatting down on the grass in her new white dress. "I've been awfully lonely without you. I do hate music lessons and visiting. I wish I could stay here all the time with you, and maybe eat grass and green things, and grow fat and white like you. I wonder how it feels to be a rabbit. Yes, I believe next to being a little girl, I'd rather be a rabbit than anything else. Rabbits don't have to work or study or sing or do anything. Goodness! what an easy time you have of it."
Bumper thought so, too, and he began to swell up with pride. He was a very young rabbit, and he was easily flattered. He wanted to tell her that he would rather be a white rabbit than a girl with red hair, when the nurse called Edith to dinner, and she had to leave him.
It was a beautiful moonlight night, and Bumper wasn't a bit sleepy. What rabbit could be in such a wonderful garden with the moon shining down upon it. Bumper danced around in his small pen, and sat upon his hind legs as if praying to the moon; but in reality he was trying to see how high the wire fence was, and wondering if he could jump over it. He had tried all day to nibble through it, and dig under it, but the wire had only hurt his teeth without giving way a particle. If he was going to get out so he could run around the garden, he would have to do it by jumping clear over the wire fence.
He tried it once, and fell short by several inches. He got a hard jolt in doing it, and rubbed his head where it hit the earth. But the next time he nearly reached the top.
"I can do it with a few more trials," he said, happy at the thought of his freedom. "I'll surprise the little girl when she hunts for me in the morning."
He hopped back a few feet, and then took a flying leap, and landed plump on the top of the fence. The wire caught him in the middle of the stomach, and there he hung for a moment undecided which way to fall. But he kicked with his hind feet, and that seemed to upset his balance, for he plunged headfirst down, and landed on the other side in a wild somersault.
"Well, that wasn't exactly graceful," he said, "but I'm here, and that's where I wanted to be. Now I'll explore the garden by moonlight."
First he ran to the vegetable garden, and nibbled at whatever he could find; but he was really so full he couldn't eat much more. Then he frisked around on the lawn, playing with his tail, and trying to jump as high up in the air as he could. It was great fun, and Bumper panted with joy.
Then suddenly out of the dark shadows of the garden something large, fierce and frightfully noisy came bounding toward him. Bumper stood stock still until a deep baying sound told him that it was Carlo, the big dog, whose barking under the bedroom window had disturbed his sleep the night before.
With a bound Bumper leaped over a rose bush, and started for his pen in the corner, but Carlo took the bush in a powerful leap and made a grab for his neck with his jaws. Bumper squealed with fright, and turned to the left to find shelter under some prickly gooseberry bushes. Carlo yelped with pain when the thorns of the bushes stuck in his nose, and from that moment Bumper began to like gooseberries.
But the chase was not over. Carlo drove him out of the bushes and chased him across the lawn into the garden. Bumper tried to hide behind a cabbage, but Carlo saw his white head, and pounced upon him. He missed by an inch, and Bumper, now terribly frightened, and panting for breath, made a dive for a big, dark hole that suddenly opened directly in his pathway.
He ran in this as fast as he could. Carlo followed a short distance, and then got stuck. The black hole grew smaller at the other end, and Bumper felt that he was safe for the present.
"My, what a narrow escape!" he said, panting for breath. "Now, how am I ever going to get out again! Carlo will pounce on me if I stick my nose out. I guess the best thing I can do is to sleep in here, and in the morning go out when Edith calls me. She'll keep Carlo away."
And with this remark, he rolled up in a ball, and went to sleep.
Bumper was so young and inexperienced that he didn't know a drain-pipe from an ordinary hole in the ground, nor for that matter a tree trunk that was hollow inside from a rabbit's burrow. Bumper was a city-bred rabbit, born in the backyard of a tenement house, and how could you expect him to know much of the things that ordinary wild rabbits learn by heart before their whiskers begin to sprout?
When he opened his eyes the next morning, he stretched himself, and blinked hard at the circular roof over his head, wondering what sort of a house he was in now. It took some time for his brain to recall the events of the previous night. Then he sat up and smiled.
"Ho! Ho!" he laughed. "Carlo must have had a long, cold wait outside for me. I think I'll take a peek at him."
He was really anxious to see if the little girl was up yet, and if she had missed him. He had perfect confidence in her, and knew that she would call off the dog the instant she saw him.
Bumper could see that it was morning, for the bright light shining through the big end of the drain-pipe proved that. He crawled along cautiously, making as little noise as possible. If Carlo was waiting at the entrance to pounce upon him, he wasn't going to be caught napping.
Another thing which drew him toward the mouth of the pipe was the fragrant odor of good things from the garden. In spite of the big feast of the night before, Bumper was hungry again, and he longed to get back in the garden and devour a few more carrots and crisp lettuce leaves.
He was within a few feet of the mouth of the drain-pipe, quite confident that Carlo had grown tired of watching and left, when a shadow came between him and the light. Bumper caught sight of a head and forelegs thrust into the opening, and then, without stopping for further investigation, he turned tail and ran back. There was a wild scampering and scraping behind him, and he knew that Carlo was pursuing him in the hole.
But Carlo couldn't follow him very far. The pipe narrowed so that there was just room for Bumper to squeeze through, and no dog, certainly not a big dog like Carlo, could catch him in there. When he reached the place where he had spent the night, he stopped to look around him.
Horror of Horrors! Carlo or some other animal was close behind him, blocking the entire entrance to the hole. Bumper could hear him scraping along, and could almost feel his breath. A shiver of terror went clear through him. In some strange manner the hole had been enlarged over night, or Carlo had shrunk in size, or what seemed more probable, another dog much smaller had taken up the pursuit.
With a little yip of fear, Bumper scrambled onward again, making his way through the drain-pipe as fast as his feet would permit, which, after all, was not so very fast, for he slipped and lost his footing a dozen times, and once fell all in a heap where an elbow in the pipe brought him to an abrupt stop. There were two holes opening before him, one leading to the right and the other to the left.
Bumper chose the one to the right, and so did the animal pursuing him. The race continued until the rabbit came to another branch where there seemed to be three holes leading off into different directions. Bumper chose the middle One blindly, and ran through it for dear life.
It was very dark, and it was impossible for him to tell where he was going. His one great desire was to escape the pursuing dog or other animal close behind him. Consequently, he was unprepared for the sudden climax of his adventure.
The narrow tunnel came to an abrupt ending, and when Bumper shot out of it he landed in a big, circular space that gave him plenty of opportunity to turn around and look at his enemy. He had no more idea what kind of a place he was in now than before. It was all so strange to him.
"Hello!" a voice called to him out of the small hole.
Bumper looked up, and saw a big Sewer Rat grinning at him from the mouth of the drain-pipe.
"I never saw a rabbit run faster in all my days," laughed Mr. Sewer Rat. "I couldn't keep up with you. What did you think was after you?"
Bumper was very angry and indignant now that he realized his flight was all unnecessary. He disliked Mr. Sewer Rat and all his tribe, for they had often made their way into the old woman's backyard to annoy the young bunnies. Besides his bad manners and uncouth ways, the Sewer Rat was disgustingly dirty in his habits. How could he be otherwise when he chose to live in sewers rather than in clean quarters above ground?
"Why were you running so fast?" asked Bumper, not willing to admit the rat had frightened him.
"Just to frighten you," was the retort. "I wanted to give you the scare of your life, and I guess I did."
"Oh, no," replied Bumper, assuming an air of dignity. "I wasn't really frightened so long as I knew you were behind me. Carlo couldn't catch me until he nabbed you."
"Carlo! Who's Carlo!" demanded the Sewer Rat, pretending ignorance.
"Oh! Ho!" laughed Bumper. "Don't pretend that Carlo, the dog, wasn't after you. Didn't I see him chase you in the hole? And how frightened you looked! Why, it nearly made me die with laughter."
Mr. Sewer Rat puffed up his cheeks and gnashed his long, white teeth angrily. Bumper's fling had hit the mark.
"If Carlo ever touches me," he said, "I'll bite his nose so he'll remember it. Who's afraid of an old dog like Carlo?"
"You are, I should say," smiled the white rabbit.
The Sewer Rat started to deny this, and then thought better of it. "Well, I wasn't more frightened than you, Mr. White Rabbit. You're as pale as a ghost this very minute."
"That's a good one," laughed Bumper. "Pale as a ghost! Why, I'm whiter than snow all the time. How could I get paler?"
Mr. Sewer Rat gnashed his teeth again, and swished his long tail. He was plainly angry and discomfitted. So he retorted maliciously:
"You're not white at all. You're so dirty your own mother wouldn't know you. White! Oh! Ho! Ho! I wish you could see yourself."
Bumper did see himself, or, at least, a part of himself. Both front paws were muddy; his long ears were covered with iron rust; his fat cheeks were dusty and cobwebby, and to the ends of his whiskers clung specks of dirt. In his progress through the drain-pipe he had accumulated sufficient dirt to change his color from pure white to a rusty gray.
"I can soon clean myself," he remarked, "and the little girl with the red hair will help me. Is that the hole that leads back to the garden?"
The Sewer Rat suddenly blinked his wicked little eyes. "Yes," he replied, "if you know the right turns to take. If you don't you'll get lost, and never find your way out."
"I think I know my way back," said Bumper, hesitatingly. He hated to ask favors of the Sewer Rat, but when the latter volunteered information he was grateful for it.
"You'll find a better way back to the garden by following the abandoned sewer you're standing in. Keep straight on to the end. It's much better than crawling back through this small drain-pipe."
"Thank you!" replied Bumper. "I believe I'll go back that way!"
"All right, then. I must be going to my family. I haven't had my breakfast yet. Good morning!"
Bumper thanked him again, and turned to follow the sewer back to the garden, not realizing that the Rat had purposely deceived him out of revenge.
The way back to the garden seemed a long one, and Bumper soon began to entertain doubts about the kindness of Mr. Sewer Rat. It was an old abandoned sewer, with plenty of room in it for a whole colony of rabbits, but it was terribly dirty and damp. The musty odor was so different from the pleasant fragrance of the garden he had recently left.
"I must have traveled miles and miles," he thought after a while, stopping to clean off some of the dirt that clung to his white fur. "Either that Rat didn't know what he was talking about, or he told a whopping fib. They always were sneaky animals, the Sewer Rats, and I shouldn't have listened to him."
He stopped to consider whether he shouldn't turn around and retrace his steps; but he was disturbed by the fear that he could never recognize the mouth of the drain-pipe he had come through. He had passed a number of these black holes on his way, all looking alike.
"I should have counted them, and then I'd know which one was mine," he reflected.
But there was no good crying over spilt milk. He was in the abandoned sewer, and he had to find his way out somehow. Meanwhile, he was getting desperately hungry. Oh, for a mouthful of the succulent grass that grew in the garden, or a cabbage leaf or a piece of celery—anything, in fact, that would satisfy that gnawing at the stomach!
"Ah, well!" he sighed. "I must keep going until I find something to eat. There must be other gardens, and this sewer must lead somewhere."
In a little while he became so thirsty that a drink of water seemed even more desirable than a bite of food. He tried to lick some of the moisture from the sides of the sewer, but that was only aggravating. It seemed to increase rather than diminish his thirst.
One hopeful feature of his adventure was that the big sewer seemed to grow lighter as he proceeded, and he was sure he was coming near the end. But before this hope was realized he stumbled upon something that gave him a shock.
Just ahead of him something long and black hung from the roof of the sewer, reaching down almost to the bottom. Bumper stopped to gaze critically at it, his little heart beating with apprehension. Was this the shadow of some strange animal, or was it simply an innocent log of wood that had got wedged in the sewer?
As it didn't move, and was perfectly noiseless, Bumper concluded that it was harmless, and so he approached it and after sniffing at it began nibbling the lower part. Suddenly there was a loud squeak, and the big shadow seemed to part in the middle and fly in every direction. It took wings so strangely that Bumper was more astounded than frightened.
The sewer was filled with black shadows that flitted all around him. Then followed a babel of noisy squeaks. Some came so close to his ears that he dodged and ducked in fear. One pair of sharp beaks caught him on the tip of his nose and made him squeal, and another nipped the back of his head. He was too surprised and frightened by this time to run, and he tried to defend himself with his two front paws.
"It's the Sewer Rat! Bite him! Tweak his nose! Snap his tail! Tear out his eyes!"
The air was filled with these faint cries before Bumper began to realize just what he was up against. He had run into a big bunch of bats sleeping in the abandoned sewer, and his nibbling at them had alarmed and angered them. It was apparent from their remarks that they mistook him for Mr. Sewer Rat, who perhaps had annoyed them many times before, and had even threatened to devour some of them.
"I'm not the Sewer Rat!" cried Bumper. "Please don't snap out my eyes! I didn't mean to disturb you! Wait! Wait, until I can explain!"
"Who are you? And what are you, then?" cried the biggest and fiercest of the bats, coming so close that his eyes looked like pin-points of light.
"I'm Bumper, the white rabbit!"
There was a pause, and the flittering wings seemed to stop beating the air.
"Bumper, the white rabbit! Who ever heard of a white rabbit! All rabbits are brown or gray."
It was the big bat speaking for the others, but they all joined him in gnashing their teeth and in whipping the air with their soft, almost noiseless, wings.
"But I assure you I am a white rabbit," replied Bumper. "Come and look at me."
This challenge seemed fair, and some of the smaller bats approached nearer, but the leader warned them back. "Keep away! It's the Sewer Rat in disguise. It's a trick of his to catch you."
"Is the Sewer Rat white?" interrupted Bumper.
"No, not unless he's been whitewashed or been sleeping in a barrel of flour."
Bumper had to smile at this, for he recalled once how a big rat had been caught in a bag of flour by the old woman who kept rabbits, and his hair was as white as that of the whitest rabbit.
"I can assure you, Mr. Bat, I haven't been whitewashed, and I haven't been sleeping in flour. Look at my ears. Does Mr. Sewer Rat have long ears like mine?"
"No, but he could disguise them by using pieces of white paper. I wouldn't trust him a minute."
In desperation, Bumper then added: "But look at my tail! Did a Sewer Rat or any other kind of a Rat have a tail like mine?"
"Where is it?" asked the big Bat. "I don't see any tail at all. All rabbits have white tails, and you haven't any at all."
Bumper wagged the stump of tail that he thought would convince the bats, but for a moment, he wasn't exactly sure that he saw it himself. Instead of a white, fluffy stub of a tail as soft as cotton, he saw the dirtiest, blackest wad of hair waving in the air that had ever disgraced a rabbit. The truth flashed upon his mind in an instant. What he had supposed to be the blindness of the bats was nothing more than a most natural circumstance.
He was so black with the dust and mud of the drain-pipe that it was misleading to call himself a white rabbit. He was far from it. He was as dark as any wild rabbit of the woods—darker, in fact, for there was no white fur under his stomach or around his stubby tail.
He was so confused by this discovery that he could not find his tongue to make reply. The Bats, accepting his silence as proof that his deception had been found out, suddenly beat their wings and set up a terrible uproar.
"It's the Sewer Rat in disguise!" shouted the big leader of the Bats. "Now we'll punish him! Drive him out of the sewer! Peck out his eyes!"
Bumper stopped just long enough to realize that he had no chance in a fight against all those whirring wings and little gnashing teeth. If he was to escape at all, he had to get a start on the bats. Even though flight seemed to confirm the suspicions of the Bats, he turned and fled as fast as his four legs would carry him.
There was plenty of room in the sewer, and Bumper made such tremendous strides that he outdistanced all but a few of the leaders. They tried to land on his back and claw him, but he shook them off, and dodged this way and that, until the light ahead suddenly became so strong and blinding that the bats gave up the chase.
When Bumper finally came to the mouth of the sewer, he was all out of breath, but the view ahead compensated for a lot of his troubles. He could see the blue sky; green fields and waving trees, and near-by the rippling surface of a lake or river. It looked like Paradise after the darkness of the sewer; but all things that glitter, he found out, are not gold, and every earthly Paradise seems to have its serpent lurking somewhere around in the grass.
Bumper took a long time to rest and get back some of his breath before he ventured to the very mouth of the open sewer. As soon as he was sure that the bats had abandoned the chase, he threw himself down and closed his eyes from sheer weariness and exhaustion. Then, with returning strength and hope, he raised himself on his two hind legs, and looked around him.
There was water at the mouth of the sewer, and he hopped toward it eagerly. After lapping enough to satisfy his thirst, he began bathing himself. He had never been so dirty before in all his life. He was thankful the red-haired girl wasn't there to see him. She would perhaps disown him.
This thought soothed his feelings a little, and he splashed around in the water until most of the dust and dirt was washed off. Then finding a sunny spot near the entrance, he hopped to it, and sprawled himself out to dry.
Meanwhile, he began examining his surroundings very carefully, and a little anxiously. The sewer dipped down into the river and disappeared from view, and on either side of it, and above it, were very steep walls. No rabbit could climb them. The only other possible way out of the sewer was by swimming.
Now Bumper had never learned to swim. Perhaps he could do it without learning, but he felt afraid. None of his family had been swimmers, and the river was certainly deep. From his place in the sun he could not see bottom.
Once more the thought of returning to the garden by the way he had come occurred to him; but memory of the fierce bats and the Sewer Rat immediately banished all ideas of this kind from his mind. "I'd never go through that dark sewer again for anything," he said, shuddering. "I must go on until I find another way back to the little girl."
Bumper's one desire was to return to Edith. He was sorry now that he had ever jumped out of his pen. If he had been contented and stayed where the red-haired girl had put him, he would be eating delicious grass and vegetables now instead of lying there alone, hungry and afraid to go on or go back.
His hunger came back to him, and gave him a sharp pain in the stomach. "I must have something to eat," he said. "I'm nearly famished."
But there was really nothing in sight that he could eat—not a spear of grass nor a leaf. Then, just as if to prove to him that manna sometimes falls from heaven to feed even poor, destitute rabbits, a big leaf came floating down on the wind and fell almost at his feet. Bumper grabbed it, and began chewing it greedily.
"Oh, you mean, horrid thing!" chirped a voice. "That leaf belonged to me. It was for my nest, and the wind blew it out of my bill."
Bumper looked up, and saw a small sparrow perched on the top of the embankment over his head.
"I didn't know it was yours, Mrs. Sparrow," Bumper replied. "I thought the wind just blew it to me."
"Well, you know it now. Please give it to me."
Bumper held the leaf in his mouth, with half of it already chewed up. It tasted so good that the thought of abandoning it was more than he could stand.
"If you need it more than I do, Mrs. Sparrow," he said, "I'll give it to you. But you must prove it."
"Why, of course I do. I need it for my nest."
"And I need it to keep me from starving."
Mrs. Sparrow cocked her head sideways and looked queerly at him. "You don't look as if you were starving," she observed. "You're as plump and sleek as any rabbit I ever saw."
"Maybe. But I haven't had any breakfast, and I'm not used to it. This leaf tastes so good I wish I had a hundred more of them."
"Then why don't you go and get them? There are plenty in the park and woods."
"But how am I going to get them?" asked Bumper. "Don't you see I'm caught here in the mouth of the sewer. I can't get out without swimming."
Mrs. Sparrow looked surprised at this information, and flew from her perch on the embankment to a stone below. She cocked her head sideways, and looked all around her.
"What puzzles me," she said finally, "is how you ever got in there without swimming. You can't fly."
Bumper smiled, and shook his head. "No, but I wish I could. I wouldn't stay here arguing with you about this leaf but fly away and get a good breakfast of a lot of them."
"Are you really so hungry, Mr. White Rabbit?"
"Indeed, I am nearly famished."
And then he told Mrs. Sparrow of his adventures in the drain-pipe of the garden and the big abandoned sewer. Mrs. Sparrow was evidently affected by his recital, for she immediately flew away and soon returned with another green leaf.
"Now eat that, and I'll get you another," she said. "I know what it is to go without breakfast and dinner. I've had to do it many times. Now eat your full."
Bumper devoured the leaf so quickly that it seemed as if he must have swallowed it without chewing it. "You see, Mrs. Sparrow," he remarked, "you couldn't feed me enough. I have a very big appetite. Why, I could eat leaves much faster than you could bring them to me."
"So it seems," murmured the sparrow in a little surprised voice. "I never realized how much some animals can eat at once. I don't think I can do more than just take the edge of your appetite off."
"That's very kind of you. And I shall be grateful to you! If you'll bring me just a few more leaves, I will then ask you to direct me back to the little girl's garden."
"I'm sure I'd like to, but there are so many gardens around, and they all look alike."
"But there's only one with a red-haired girl in it," replied Bumper. "Can't you fly away, and find her?"
"I'll try," said Mrs. Sparrow.
So after feeding Bumper a few more green leaves, she flew away to find the garden. She was gone so long that Bumper got very restless and discouraged. The few leaves hadn't satisfied his hunger; they had merely stimulated his desire for more. It was past noon when Mrs. Sparrow finally reappeared at the entrance to the sewer.
"What news?" asked Bumper, eagerly.
"Nothing that's good, Mr. White Rabbit. I flew into garden after garden—and all of them pretty, and full of fruits and vegetables—but there was no red-headed girl in any of them. I saw dogs, too—many of them—but I couldn't tell whether any of them answered to the name of Carlo."
"Then it looks to me," remarked Bumper, "that I'm in for a long swim. Where does this river go to?"
"Way out into the country through beautiful fields and woods," replied Mrs. Sparrow.
"Could I reach them, I wonder! I might drown before I could get ashore."
"Wait!" exclaimed Mrs. Sparrow. "Why not escape on a raft? Here comes a big board down the river. You could hop on it, and not even get wet. Yes, you could do it. It's floating close to the shore."
"Where is it?" exclaimed Bumper, eagerly.
"Right here! Now get ready for a long jump."
Bumper was not only ready, but very anxious, and when the floating board appeared a yard or more from the mouth of the sewer he crouched for a spring. It was a long jump, and Bumper had some doubts about making it; but he put all his strength in it, and hopped high in the air, and landed safely on the raft.
"Hi! How was that for a jump!" he exclaimed, when he stood upright on the board.
"Fine!" said Mrs. Sparrow. "I wish you a good voyage! Good-bye!"
Bumper wagged his ears in reply, and shouted back a hearty farewell. Then he turned to look down the river. He had escaped from the sewer, but evidently he had adventures still ahead, for the river was broad and long, and very swift in places.
When Bumper floated away from the mouth of the sewer on his raft, he felt quite jubilant, and a little proud of his achievement. He had escaped the bats successfully, and now he had found a way out of the sewer itself. He was so puffed up by these exploits that he wasn't a bit afraid of what might happen to him on the river.
"This is really much better than being cooped up in the old woman's backyard," he reflected. "Not even Jimsy or Wheedles ever dreamed of such adventures as I've had. My! I feel like a great traveler already."
But when the current of the river began to draw his raft away from the shore into the middle, his enthusiasm was not quite so great. The stream grew rougher, and little white caps appeared ahead. His raft began to bob up and down, and pretty soon a wave washed over it and wet Bumper's feet.
This made him very uncomfortable, for a rabbit doesn't like wet feet any more than a cat does. He tried to sit up on his hind legs and dry his front paws, but other waves washed over the raft and wet his haunches. He couldn't very well stand on his front paws, and dry his hind ones, so he had to endure the wet and cold.
The river passed through a beautiful field all aglow with flowers and green grass, but the shore was too far away for Bumper to swim to it. "I'll leave well enough alone," he said, "and stick to my raft."
Then he came to a woods through which the river flowed. It was swampy here, and twigs and tree trunks seemed to grow out of the water long distances from the shore.
"If I can find a tree fallen in the river, I'll hop on it and escape," Bumper reasoned.
He was so absorbed in watching for a chance to escape that he hardly noticed a black shadow hovering over him. Not until it approached very close did he duck his head and look up.
"Caw! Caw!"
It was a big, black crow. Now Bumper had never seen a crow. In fact, he had never seen any of the wild animals of the woods, for it must be remembered that he was born in the city. Of course, he had seen plenty of sparrows, for they live in the cities, and also sewer rats. A few bats had also flown over the old woman's backyard on warm nights hunting insects, and Bumper was more or less acquainted with them.
But a crow! He didn't know what it was. So when the loud, raucous cry assailed his ears, he squatted down on his raft, expecting every minute to be attacked by the black shadow above.
"Caw! Caw!" screamed the big bird.
"Mr. Caw! Mr. Caw!" cried Bumper, supposing that was the bird's name. "Good morning! How do you do?"
Now, the crow is very sensitive about his inability to sing. He used to think that cawing was singing until the birds all laughed at him. After that he kept by himself, and very rarely joined the other birds in the woods or fields.
Bumper's calling him by that name very naturally angered him. It was a slight, a slur upon his voice, and he resented it at once. It must be remembered also that the crow had never seen a white rabbit before, and Bumper's appearance floating on the plank had excited the bird's curiosity. White rabbits don't run wild in the woods, and Bumper was almost as much a mystery to the crow as the latter was to the former. All the rabbits Mr. Crow knew were gray or brown, with a white belly and tail, and none of them had pink eyes. So it was quite natural that the black bird should be curious and surprised at the sight of a pure white rabbit, with pink eyes, floating down the river on a raft.
"Caw! Caw!" screamed the crow, flapping his wings so that the wind made by them ruffled Bumper's hair.
"Yes, yes, Mr. Caw. I understand," replied Bumper, getting excited by the nearness of this big, black thing.
"How dare you make fun of me!" cried Mr. Crow, striking the tip of Bumper's ears with his wings. "I'll teach you to laugh at my voice."
With that he struck out with both wings, and nearly upset Bumper from his raft. Frightened by this exhibition of anger, Bumper's teeth chattered, and his voice shook.
"I wasn't making fun of your voice, Mr. Caw," he said. "I think it's a very sweet and pleasant voice. Please don't upset my raft."
The crow, a little mollified by this flattery, circled around the raft, and surveyed the scene below with eyes filled with curiosity.
"What are you, anyway?" he called down at last. "You look like Mr. Rabbit, but I never saw one so white before. What's your name? And what are you doing on that raft?"
"I'm Bumper, the White Rabbit, and—"
"Rabbits are never white," interrupted the crow.
"But I assure you I am."
"Then you're not a rabbit. You're something else."
Bumper smiled and tried to look pleased. "Would you be something else if you were white?" he asked.
Now this reference to an old fable of the crows touched a sensitive spot. There were white crows, or at least there were rumors of them, and every crow liked to believe the story was true. If one white crow, then why not more? Why shouldn't all crows be white?
"Did you ever see a white crow?" the bird asked.
"Crow! Crow!" stammered Bumper. "Is that your name? I'm sorry, Mr. Crow, I made a mistake. You see, I'm from the city, and crows don't live there."
"No, I should say not—unless the white ones do." He came nearer and showed excitement. "Answer me. Did you ever see a white crow? If all rabbits from the city are white, then maybe that's where the white crows come from."
Now Bumper was learning shrewdness, and he saw right away through the vanity of the bird that had him at his mercy. So, instead of answering directly, he pretended that he knew a great deal more than he did.
"I'm surprised, Mr. Crow," he said, "that you've never been in the city to see for yourself. You really mean to tell me you've never been in the city?"
"Why, no, it's not a place for crows."
"Maybe not for black ones, but white crows are perfectly safe there, the same as white rabbits. I never saw one hurt there."
"Don't men shoot them?"
"No. People don't shoot birds and animals in the city. They're not allowed to carry guns at all. You're really safer than out here in the country."
"But there's nothing to eat in the city—not for crows. Is there?"
"All the white crows I knew were well fed. And the sparrows get plenty. People feed them sometimes in the park. Why, there are squirrels that have all the nuts they can eat, and they don't have to hunt for them."
"White squirrels?" interrupted Mr. Crow, eagerly.
"Did you ever see a white squirrel, Mr. Crow?" asked Bumper, instead of answering this question.
"No, I never did."
"Then," sighing, "I'm afraid there are none."
Mr. Crow wasn't so much interested in white squirrels as in white crows, and he dismissed the matter from his mind. After a pause, he added: "I believe I'll take a trip to the city, if there's no danger. I'd like to visit some of the white crows. It may be if I stay with them in the city, I'll turn white, too."
Bumper didn't want to deceive him, but he was still afraid of him. Instead of answering directly, he asked: "Before you go, Mr. Crow, can't you help me to get ashore? I'm very tired of this raft. You make so much wind with your beautiful wings, I'm sure you could blow me inshore with them."
"Yes, I suppose I could," was the reply. "Well, since you were kind enough to tell me about my relatives in the city, I'll help you."
He began beating his wings violently, and the wind from them nearly blew Bumper off the raft, but the board floated closer and closer to the shore until the rabbit with a hop landed on it, and bade the crow good-bye.