  December and January passed without Striped Coat waking up for more than an occasional peep at the woods whenever the warm south wind was blowing; but the last days of February found him uneasy and on the watch for good weather; then there came a gentle warm rain which brought a new scent into the woods—the scent of Spring. Striped Coat caught it and was lured out as soon as darkness came; his mother followed eagerly. They were both anxious to get food but also interested in looking around and hunting up the old places which they had frequented in the summer. The mother travelled to the deserted woodchuck burrow under the holly tree, and finding it pleasantly dry and homelike, rearranged the nest and slept there instead of returning to the cabin. Striped Coat however went further; he made a great circle through the woods which carried him far beyond Farmer Slown’s field to a sandy hill where, because the ground was dryer and warmer than below, many animals had their winter dens and where therefore it was not as lonely as nearer the Creek. Here he found the trails of Possum and of Coon and even of Gray Fox, but of none of his own kind. Wherever he went he saw others of the woods folk, all hungry, all in a hurry and none interested in him. That day he spent in a hollow log far in the pines. It was an uncomfortable place, so he left it early on the following night and restlessly resumed his trip through the dripping, scented woods, on and on with scarcely a stop for rest. The long sleep had left him lonely, he knew that somewhere were companions, and he would keep on going until he found them. Nearly all of the food of the last year had already been gathered by the woods creatures and the new year’s food had not begun to grow, but here and there he picked up something to stave off hunger—a half awakened insect or two, a dead shrew, scattered acorns and some grass bulbs. Here and there, too, he found good dens and spent more than one day in comfortably sleeping in them, only to start out again at dusk. His seemed now almost a hopeless task, due to the success of trappers and especially to Farmer Slown’s relentless work against the wood pussies; yet still he searched. At length his circle brought him back to the Goose Creek country where he knew the trails and felt a longing once more to sleep safely in his home under the cabin. For ten nights he had been travelling, and now disheartened, footsore and thin, he was back where he started, after finding the world a lonely place. But here would at least be his mother, or was she too gone now and he left, the last of the wood pussies on Goose Creek? Ahead loomed the cabin. Striped Coat, dragging himself gloomily through the bushes scarcely looked at it until, near the stone pile, he caught on a breath of wind an unfamiliar scent—very faint, very elusive but at the same time unmistakably telling him that a strange wood pussy had been there. In an instant it reawakened his interest in life and made of him a different looking creature. Again he was alert, quick footed, eager. Again his wonderful fur fluffed up, until his body looked like a perfect muff. Cautiously, he entered the drain, following the elusive scent which led under the cabin and showed that in his absence the other wood pussy had actually slept in his cozy nest. Now the den was empty, he had come back too late. Striped Coat moved about, noting all the places where the other had walked also. Little changes had been made here and there—a burrow started, some earth moved away from the nest and the nest itself made smaller as if to fit around a smaller body. Presently he came again to the drain and started out, determined to go in search of this other, where he did not know. And then he noticed the scent more strongly, and coming out of the stone pile found it stronger still, as if the other had been there only a moment before. Searching this way and that he picked up the trail and followed it into the woods. Had the other come back to the cabin and, finding the rightful owner in possession tried to escape unobserved? But how escape Striped Coat, whose nose was as keen as a knife blade was sharp; Striped Coat, the fame of whose fur had travelled over a whole country and who yet lived; Striped Coat who could travel a whole night without growing tired; Striped Coat who was lonely! And did the other really wish very much to escape? Was not she too lonely? If not, why should she have gone so slowly into the woods as to be scarcely out of sight of the cabin when Striped Coat came rushing along her trail. Pretty little wood pussy! Was not she as thrilled as he at this meeting and timidly anxious to make friends? And yet she pretended with all her might that she did not care the least bit about him and wanted to continue her lonely way, and only when Striped Coat seemed on the point of turning back would she look around and hesitate and lead him on again. And somehow it happened that instead of going further into the big woods, they made a circle which brought them back to the cabin. Side by side they neared the entrance, and just as the sun lit up the sky in the East they vanished that way into the stone pile, and Striped Coat had found a companion. Side by side they neared the entrance |
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