Boxer and Woof-Woof were having no end of fun. Having chased Peter Rabbit under a pile of brush, they were now trying to catch him. It was even more fun than it had been to try to catch Chatterer the Red Squirrel in the top of a tree.

But for Peter Rabbit it was no fun at all. The truth is, Peter was in a tight place and he knew it. Never had he been more badly frightened. It would have been bad enough had there been only one little Bear. Two little Bears made it more than twice as bad.

In the first place they were very lively, were those two little Bears. Peter hadn’t known that little Bears could be so lively. You see, these were the first he ever had seen. The way in which they ran around that pile of brush showed how very quick on their feet they were. Peter didn’t doubt that he could outrun them if he could get a fair start; the trouble was to get that fair start. He wished now that he had trusted to his long legs instead of seeking shelter under that pile of brush. He had done that in the suddenness of his fright, when the little Bears had surprised him. It is Peter’s nature to seek a hiding-place in time of danger, and usually this is the wisest thing for him to do.

“I see him!” cried Boxer, poking his funny little head under the brush on one side. “I’ll crawl under and drive him out to you, Woof-Woof!”

On the other side of the brush pile Woof-Woof danced up and down excitedly. “I’ll get him! I’ll get him!” she cried. “Drive him out, Boxer! Drive him out!”

“Ouch!” cried Boxer, as a sharp stick scratched his face. “He’s crawling towards the end, Woof-Woof! Watch out!”“Which end?” cried Woof-Woof, running from one end to the other and back again.

“Ouch! Wow! I’m stuck!” came the voice of Boxer. A minute later he backed out. “No use; I can’t get under there,” he panted. “I’ll jump on top, and see if I can’t scare him out that way.”

So Boxer climbed up on the pile of brush and jumped up and down, while Woof-Woof ran back and forth around the edge of the pile of brush, stopping to peep under at every opening.

“I see him! I see him, Boxer!” she cried, and began to wriggle in under the brush as Boxer had done.

But she didn’t go far. She soon found that Peter could get through places where she couldn’t. Besides, it seemed as if sharp sticks were reaching for her from every direction. Twice she squealed as she scratched her face on them. “How do you like it,” called Boxer, grinning at the sound of those squeals.

Woof-Woof backed out and brushed bits of bark from her coat, for she was much neater than her brother. “I tell you what,” said she, “let’s pull this pile of brush all apart. Then we’ll get him.”

So the twins set to work, one on one side and one on the other, to pull that pile of brush apart. Yes, Peter Rabbit certainly was in a tight place.