"You wouldn't dare tackle Jerry Muskrat."
"Wouldn't I?" replied Billy. "Just ask Jerry how he feels about it."
One look at Jerry's face showed everybody that Jerry, big as he was,
was afraid of Billy Mink. "How do you hunt when you are on land?"
asked Old Mother Nature.
"The way every good hunter should hunt, with eyes, nose and ears,"
replied Billy. "There may be folks with better ears than I've got,
but I don't know who they are. I wouldn't swap noses with anybody.
As for my eyes, well, they are plenty good enough for me."
"In other words, you hunt very much as does your cousin, Shadow the
Weasel," said Old Mother Nature.
Billy nodded. "I suppose I do," said he, "but there's one thing he
does which I don't do and that's hunt just for the love of killing.
"Once in a while I may kill more than I can eat, but I don't mean to.
I hunt for food, while he hunts just for the love of killing."
"You all saw how Billy catches fish," said Old Mother Nature. "Now,
Billy, I want you to swim over to the farther bank and show us how
you run."
Billy obeyed. He slipped into the water, dived, swam under water
for a distance, then swam with just his head out. When he reached
the bank he climbed out and started along it. He went by a series
of bounds, his back arched sharply between each leap. Then he
disappeared before their very eyes, only to reappear as suddenly
as he had gone.
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