Bowser the Hound

BLACKY WAITS FOR REDDY

    Be wise, my friends, and do not fail
    To trust a dog who wags his tail.

    Bowser the Hound.

Just before reaching the farm where the fat hens and Bowser the Hound were, Blacky waited for Reddy Fox to catch up.  It was some time before Reddy appeared, for he wasn’t traveling as fast now as when he had started out.  You see, that farm really was a very long way from the Old Pasture where Reddy lives and Reddy had run very hard, because, you know, he was so anxious to get one of those fat hens.

As soon as Blacky saw him he hid in the thick branches of a tall pine-tree.  Reddy didn’t see him.  In fact, Blacky had been so far ahead that Reddy had lost sight of him some time before.  Out of the bushes trotted Reddy.  His tongue was hanging out just a little, and he was panting.  Blacky was just about to speak when Reddy stopped.  He stood as still as if he had suddenly been frozen stiff.  His sharp black ears were cocked forward, and his head was turned just a little to one side.  Reddy was listening.  He was listening for the voice of Blacky.  You see, he thought Blacky was still far ahead of him.

For several minutes Reddy stood listening with all his might, and Blacky’s sharp eyes twinkled as he looked down, watching Reddy.  Suddenly Reddy sat down.  There was an expression on his sharp face which Blacky understood perfectly.  It was quite plain that Reddy was becoming suspicious.  He had begun to suspect that he had been tricked by Blacky and led so far away from home for nothing.

Down inside Blacky chuckled.  It was a noiseless chuckle, for Blacky did not intend to give himself away until he had to.  But when at last he saw that Reddy was beginning to get uneasy, Blacky spoke.  “You seem to be feeling better, Brother Reddy,” said he.  “You must excuse me for keeping you waiting, but I did not suppose that any one so weak and feeble as you appeared to be early this morning could possibly get here so soon.”

At the sound of Blacky’s voice, Reddy was so startled that he jumped quite as if he had sat down on a prickly briar.  He was sharp enough to know that it was no longer of any use to pretend.  “I’m feeling better,” said he.  “The thought of those fat hens has quite restored my strength.  Did you say that they are near here?”

“I didn’t say, but—­” Blacky didn’t finish.  He didn’t need to.  From the other side of a little swamp in front of them a rooster crowed.  That was answer enough!  Reddy’s yellow eyes gleamed.  In an instant he was on his feet, the picture of alertness.

“Are you satisfied that I told the truth?” asked Blacky.  Reddy nodded.