Jumper the Hare arrived at school
a little late and quite out of breath from hurrying.
His big soft eyes were shining with excitement.
“You look as though you had had an adventure,
Jumper,” said Old Mother Nature.
“I have,” replied Jumper.
“It is a wonder I am here at all; I came to
near furnishing Yowler the Bob Cat a breakfast that
it makes me shiver just to think of it. I guess
if I hadn’t been thinking about him, he would
have caught me.”
“Tell us all about it,” demanded Old Mother
Nature.
“Seeing Black Pussy over here
yesterday, and knowing that to-day’s lesson
was to be about Yowler, I couldn’t get cats out
of my mind all day yesterday,” began Jumper.
“Black Pussy doesn’t worry me, but I
must confess that if there is any one I fear, it is
Yowler the Bob Cat. Just thinking about him
make me nervous. The more I tried not to think
about him, the more I did think about him, and the
more I thought about him, the more nervous I got.
Then just before dark, on the bank of the Laughing
Brook, I found some tracks in the mud. Those
tracks were almost round, and that fact was enough
to tell me who had made them. They were Yowler’s
footprints, and they hadn’t been made very long.
“Of course, seeing those footprints
made me more nervous than ever, and every time I saw
a leaf move I jumped inside. My heart felt as
if it were up in my throat most of the time.
I had a feeling that Yowler wasn’t far away.
I hate that Cat! I hate the way he hunts!
He goes sneaking about, without making a sound, or
else he lies in wait, ready to spring without warning
on the first one who happens along. A fellow
never knows where to watch out for Yowler.
“I spent nearly all night sitting
under a little hemlock tree with branches very close
to the ground. I sat there because I didn’t
dare do anything else. As long as I stayed there
I felt reasonably safe, because Yowler would have
to find me, and to do that he would have to cross
an open place where I could see him. I knew that
if I went roaming about I might walk right into his
clutches.
“It was lucky I had sense enough
to stay there. You know the moon was very bright
last night. It made that open place in front
of where I was hiding almost as light as day.
Once I closed my eyes for just a minute. When
I opened them, there was Yowler sneaking across that
open place. Where he had come from, I don’t
know. He hadn’t made a sound. Not
a leaf rustled under his big feet. Right in
the middle of that open place, where the moonlight
was brightest, he stopped to listen, and I simply
held my breath.”
“Tell us how he looked,” prompted Old
Mother Nature.
“He looked just like what he
is—a big Cat with a short tail,”
replied Jumper. “Just to look at him any
one would know he was own cousin to Black Pussy.
He had a round head, rather long legs, and was about
twice as big as Black Pussy. His feet looked
big, even for him. On the tips of his ears were
a few long black hairs. His coat was yellowish
to reddish-brown, with dark spots on it. His
chin and throat were white, and underneath he was white
spotted with black. There were spots all down
his legs. He didn’t have enough of a tail
to call it a tail. It was whitish on the under
side and had black stripes on the upper side, and all
the time he kept twitching it just the way Black Pussy
twitches her tail when she is out hunting. All
of a sudden he opened his mouth and gave such a yell
that it is a wonder I didn’t jump out of my skin.
It frightened me so that I couldn’t have moved
if I had wanted to, which was a lucky thing for me.
The instant he yelled he cocked his head on one side
and listened. That yell must have wakened somebody
and caused them to move, for Yowler turned suddenly
and crept swiftly and without a sound out of sight.
A minute later I heard a jump, and then I heard a
fluttering. I think he caught one of the Grouse
family.”
“Yelling that way is one of
Yowler’s tricks,” explained Old Mother
Nature. “He does it for the same reason
Hooty the Owl hoots. He hopes that it will startle
some sleeper so that they will move. If they
do, his keen ears are sure to hear it. Was that
all of your adventure, Jumper?”
“No,” replied Jumper.
“I remained right where I was for the rest
of the night. Just as daylight was beginning
to steal through the Green Forest, I decided that
it was safe to leave my hiding place and come over
here. Half-way here I stopped for a few minutes
in a thick clump of ferns. I was just about
to start on again when I caught sight of something
moving just back of an old stump. It was that
foolish looking tail of Yowler’s. Had he
kept it still I wouldn’t have seen him at all;
but he was twitching it back and forth. He was
crouched down close to the ground with all four feet
drawn close together under him. There he crouched,
and there I sat for the longest time. I didn’t
move, and he didn’t move, save that foolish
looking tail of his. I had begun to think that
I would have to stay in that clump of ferns all day
when suddenly Yowler sprang like a flash. There
was a little squeak, and then I saw Yowler trot away
with a Mouse in his mouth. I guess he must have
seen that Mouse go in a hole and knew that if he waited
long enough it would come out again. As soon
as Yowler disappeared I hurried over here. That’s
all.”
“That was a splendid account
of Yowler and his way of hunting,” said Old
Mother Nature. “He does most of his hunting
in just that way, sneaking about on the chance of
surprising a Rabbit, Bird or Mouse, or else patiently
watching and waiting beside a hole in which he knows
some one has taken refuge. He hunts in the Green
Forest exactly as Black Pussy, Farmer Brown’s
Cat, hunts Mice in the barn or Birds in the Old Orchard.
In the spring Yowler destroys many eggs and young
birds, not only those found in nests on the ground,
but also those in nests in trees, for he is a splendid
climber.
“Yowler is found in nearly all
of the swampy, brushy and wooded parts of the whole
country, excepting in the great forests of the Far
North, where his cousin Tufty the Lynx lives.
Yowler is himself a Lynx, the Bay Lynx. In
some places he is called simply Wild Cat. In
others he is called the Catamount. He is not
so fond of the thick forests as he is of swamps, brush-grown
hillsides, old pastures and places where there are
great masses of briars. Rocky ledges where there
are caves in which to hide and plenty of brush also
suit him. He is a coward, but when cornered will
fight, though he will run from a little Dog half his
size and take to a tree. In the South he is
quite common and there often steals Chickens and Turkeys,
even young Pigs. He prefers to hunt at night,
but sometimes is seen in broad daylight. Mrs.
Yowler’s kittens are born in a cave or in a
hollow tree. Despite the fact that he is an
expert climber, Yowler spends most of his time on
the ground and is one of the worst enemies of Rabbits,
Mice, Squirrels and ground Birds.
“In the great forests of the
Far North lives Yowler’s cousin, Tufty the Canada
Lynx, also called Loup Cervier and Lucivee. He
is nearly a third larger than Yowler. From the
tip of each ear long tufts of black hair stand up.
On each side of his face is a ruff of long hair.
His tail is even shorter than Yowler’s, and
the tip of it is always wholly black. His general
color is gray, mottled with brown. His face ruff
is white with black border. Yowler’s feet
are large, but Tufty’s are immense for his size.
This is because Tufty lives where the snow lies deep
for many months, and these big, broad feet enable
him to travel about on the snow without breaking through.
He can travel with ease where Reddy Fox, not half
his size and weight, would break through at every
step. Tufty’s ways are much like those
of his cousin, Yowler, save that he is a dweller in
the deep woods. Anything he can catch is food
for Tufty, but his principal food is the Northern
Hare. The color of his coat blends with the shadows
so that he seems like a living shadow himself.
In summer food is plentiful, and Tufty lives well,
but in winder Tufty has hard work to get enough.
Rarely does he know what a full stomach means then.
Like Howler he can go a surprising length of time
without food and still retain his strength.
At that time of year he is a great traveler.
He has to be, in order to live.
“There is no fiercer looking
animal in all the Green Forest than Tufty the Lynx,
but despite this he is, like most Cats, cowardly.
Only when cornered will he fight. He is possessed
of a lively curiosity, and often he will stealthily
follow a hunter or trapper for miles. The fur
of his coat is very long and handsome, and he is hunted
and trapped for this. As he lives for the most
part far from the homes of men, he does less damage
to man than does his cousin, Yowler the Bob Cat.
Tufty must depend wholly for his living on the little
people of the Green Forest. Sometimes he will
attack a Fox. The pretty little spotted babies
of Lightfoot the Deer are victims whenever he can
find them.
“The darker and deeper the Green
Forest, the better Tufty likes it. He makes
his den under great tangles of fallen trees or similar
places. Mr. And Mrs. Tufty often hunt together,
and in early winter the whole family often join in
the hunt.
“Yowler and Tufty are the only
members of the Cat family now found in the eastern
part of the country. Formerly, their big cousin,
Puma the Panther, lived in the East, but he has been
so hunted by man that now he is found only in the
mountains of the Far West and in a few of the wildest
places in the South. I will tell you about him
to-morrow.”