"
"He is the most awful fellow in all the Great World," declared
Whitefoot the Wood Mouse.
Jimmy Skunk chuckled right out. "A lot you know about the Great
World," he said. "Why, you are farther from home now than you've
ever been in your life before, yet I could walk to it in a few
minutes. How do you know Shadow is the most awful fellow in the
Great World?"
"I just know, that's all," retorted Whitefoot in a very positive
though squeaky voice. "He hunts and kills just for the love of
it, and no one, no matter how big he is, can do anything more
awful than that. I have a lot of enemies. Sometimes it seems as
if almost every one of my neighbors is looking for a Mouse dinner.
But all but Shadow the Weasel hunt me when they are hungry and
need food. I can forgive them for that. Every one must eat to
live. But Shadow hunts me even when his stomach is so full he
cannot eat another mouthful. That fellow just loves to kill.
He takes pleasure in it. That is what makes him so awful."
"Whitefoot is right," declared Old Mother Nature, and she spoke
sadly. "If Shadow was as big as Buster Bear or Puma the Panther
or even Tufty the Lynx, he would be the most terrible creature in
all the Great World because of this awful desire to kill which
fills him. He is hot-blooded, quick-tempered and fearless. Even
when cornered by an enemy against whom he has no chance he will
fight to the last gasp.
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