When the wolf cubs had disappeared in the woods, leaving the raccoons in possession of the rock, a long silence followed. Every little ear was strained to catch the slightest sound of a foot-fall, for the raccoons were still suspicious, and were ready for a trap.

But the padded feet of the wolves grew fainter and fainter, and finally died away completely. Slowly then one after another of the raccoons raised his head and sniffed the air. They could tell whether there was any wolf smell near, and if one of the cubs was lying in the bushes near they could detect it.

“You needn’t be afraid,” Washer said finally. “The cubs never deceived me. They’ve gone away for good, and there’s no danger.”

“Why did they do that?” asked one of the raccoons.

“Because I was brought up in the den with them as their brother, and we always played together and loved each other until the wolf pack drove me away. I cannot go back to the den, for the price of death is on my head. I have no friends among them, except Mother Wolf who raised me, and the cubs, who are too young yet to want to kill me. But in time they will forget their Little Brother, and hunt me like all the others.”

“What were you doing in the wolf’s den in the first place?” asked one of the raccoons.

“I was lost, and Sneaky picked me up to feed the cubs. He carried me to his cave, but Mother Wolf took pity on me because I was only a baby. She saved me from Sneaky and raised me with her own children.”

“Why were you lost when only a baby?” queried another.

“Alas! I fell in the river one day when I was playing with my two brothers, and I was carried over the falls. I couldn’t swim, but I clung to a board, and that saved me. I thought I was killed a dozen times, but I wasn’t, and below the falls I found a landing on the shore. It was there that Sneaky found me and carried me away to kill for his young.”

Now one of the raccoons, who had been listening silently to Washer’s words, suddenly jumped to his feet, and ran up and peered into his face. He looked at him so long and intently that Washer was embarrassed.

“How many brothers had you?” he asked.

“Two,” replied Washer sadly. “They were both dear to me, but I never saw them again.”

“Where was it that you fell in the river?” added the excited raccoon.

“Where the big pine lies in the river just above the falls. It was where mother took us to play on pleasant days.”

“What did your mother call you?” went on the speaker excitedly.

“Washer!”

The raccoon who had been asking these questions suddenly sprang toward Washer as if he intended to bite him; but instead of doing that he flung both front paws around his neck and hugged him.

“Don’t you know me, Washer?” he cried. “Don’t you know your own brother? I was with you that day, and heard you cry. I thought you were joking, and I didn’t reply. Then mother heard you, and she ran down to the river just in time to see you go over the falls. You’re my long lost brother?”

Washer was so surprised and overcome by this announcement that for a moment he could not speak. Tears of joy started from his eyes.

“You’re my own real brother?” he said in awe.

“Yes, see this scar on my paw. You remember how I got it the day I tumbled out of my nest on the rocks?”

“Yes, yes,” cried Washer excitedly. “And you remember how I broke off the tip of my tail. See, it’s gone yet. It never grew on again.”

“Now, I know you, Washer,” added the other, examining the end of the tail. “Of course, you’re my long lost brother.”

Before the surprised raccoons they began embracing each other. Washer’s joy was so great that his heart beat like a trip-hammer. After a while, he asked.

“And my other brother—is he alive?”

“Yes, he was with us, but didn’t reach the rock. He’s probably hiding up some tree, expecting we’ll all be killed by the wolves.”

“Then I must go to him, too. I want to see him. And mother—is she still alive?”

“Yes, Washer, she’s alive, too, but so old and feeble, she can’t hunt with us. We have to carry food home to her. She’s never forgiven herself for losing you. She blames herself for letting you fall in the river. It made her whole life sad. I think the joy of seeing you again will make her young again.”

“Then I must go to her at once! You will show me the way?”

“Yes, we’ll all go now.”

It was then that the big raccoon, who had led the others in the chase, and who had driven Washer out of the tree, stepped forward and spoke. He was so big and fierce looking that Washer knew he was the leader: of the colony.

“Let me say a word before you go,” he interrupted. “If this is Washer I am glad to welcome him home again. But first I want to ask his forgiveness. He’s twice saved my life. That day when I was treed by the wolves, and he sent them off until I could escape, I thought it was only a trick to get me out of the tree. I bit him severely and called him a traitor.”

“But you didn’t understand,” interrupted Washer.

“No, I didn’t understand. And again tonight when you came into Silver Birch grove, I thought it was a trick to trap us. I saw you had a wolf for a friend, and I thought you intended to trick all of my people. Now, after chasing you, and threatening to kill you, you saved all our lives again by calling off the cubs. That was a noble thing to do, Washer. I shall never forget it—none of us shall ever forget it.”

“Why, what else could I do?” stammered Washer. “I couldn’t see my own people killed.”

“Not if they drove you away and refused to recognize you?” asked the leader.

“No, not if they killed me,” replied Washer.

The leader was greatly affected by these words, and his voice trembled a little when he spoke again. “I shall never forget those words, Washer. You have made me your friend forever. Come now, we must go to your mother. I shall tell her the whole story, and it will gladden her heart, and lift the sorrow that has long made it heavy.”

You can imagine how happy Washer was to come back to his people and be welcomed by them, but his joy was still greater to find that his old mother was waiting to receive him, and that his two brothers were ready to do anything for him to show their love. And so the great adventure down Rocky Falls ended happily. Mothered by a wolf, Washer had learned ways of hunting that would be of great value to him in the future, and long after he returned to his own people he taught them little tricks that saved many of them from the jaws of the wolf pack. They became so shrewd and wise that the wolves found their hunting so poor that they drew further and further away from the grove of Silver Birches, and life was made happier and happier for the colony of raccoons.

Washer lived a long and useful life in the woods, and perhaps you will hear more of him and his friends in the book of

“Sandy the Crane.”

Sandy is the first of the series of “Twilight Bird Stories,” which include interesting adventures of “Scarlet the Ibis,” “Pintail the Wild Duck,” “Plover the Golden,” and “Skinner the Tern.”

If you read one you will want to read all, for all these bird friends of the woods and swamps had many wonderful adventures.