He has a funny
little squeaking voice, and he uses it a great deal. It is a funny
voice because it is hard to tell just where it comes from. It seems
to come from nowhere in particular. Sometimes he can be heard
squeaking way down in his home under the rocks. Like Johnny Chuck,
he prefers to sleep at night and be abroad during the day. Because
he is so small he must always be on the lookout for enemies. At the
first hint of danger he scampers to safety in among the rocks, and
there he scolds whoever has frightened him. There is no more
loveable little person in all my great family than this little
haymaker of the mountains of the Great West."
"That haymaking is a pretty good idea of Little Chief's," remarked
Peter Rabbit, scratching a long ear with a long hind foot. "I've
a great mind to try it myself."
Everybody laughed right out, for everybody knew just how easy-going
and thriftless Peter was. Peter himself grinned. He couldn't
help it.
"That would be a very good idea, Peter," said Old Mother Nature.
"By the way, there is another haymaker out in those same great
mountains of the Far West."
"Who?" demanded Peter and Johnny Chuck and Happy Jack Squirrel,
all in the same breath.
"Stubtail the Mountain Beaver," declared Peter promptly. "I
suppose Stubtail is his cousin."
Old Mother Nature shook her head.
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