The Tale of Turkey Proudfoot Part 8

"Cousinly!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. "You and I, sir, are total strangers to each other."

"Well, we ought not to be," said Mr. Grouse. "It's time we got acquainted with each other. Didn't you know that your family and mine are related?"

"No!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "No! I never knew it."

"It's the truth," Mr. Grouse told him. "Don't you think we look a bit alike, except that my neck is somewhat short, and yours is long and skinny? And of course my head is feathered out, while yours is bald and red."

"That will do!" Turkey Proudfoot gobbled angrily. "Even if you are my cousin you needn't make such remarks about me."

Mr. Grouse begged his pardon again.

"I was only pointing out the differences between us," he explained. "But if they displease you, I'll speak of the ways in which we are alike.

Now, take our tails--"

"I won't!" Turkey Proudfoot squalled. "I'll take my own tail wherever I go. But I won't take yours."

XVIII

RED LIGHTNING

"What's the matter with my tail!" cried Mr. Grouse.

"It's too small," Turkey Proudfoot declared. "Now, if you want to see a tail that _is_ a tail--"

"I don't!" cried Mr. Grouse. "Not if you want me to look at yours! In fact, I don't care to talk with you any more. I was going to suggest a pleasant way for you to spend Thanksgiving Day. But nothing I say seems to please you. Besides, you began to boast about your tail the moment you entered this clearing. And if there's anybody I can't endure, it's a boaster." He was a rough and ready sort of fellow--this Mr. Grouse.

When he had anything to say he didn't go beating about the bush. He came right out in the open and spoke his mind freely.

You might think that Turkey Proudfoot would have taken his cousin's remarks to heart. But he didn't. He was so pleased with his own tail that to him it was the biggest thing in the world. Indeed, when he spread his tail and looked at it he could see nothing else.

"You are jealous," he told Mr. Grouse. "And I can't blame you. It's only natural that you should look at my tail with envy. Everybody does down at the farmyard."

Turkey Proudfoot must have forgotten all about the peac.o.c.k, when he spoke. Anyhow, he gazed around at his tail with great admiration.

All at once there was a terrible, loud _whirring_ sound. Turkey Proudfoot started up in alarm. To his amazement, where Mr. Grouse had been sitting on the log there was now nothing at all.

"Up! Up!" It was Mr. Grouse's voice that Turkey Proudfoot heard; and it seemed to come from the tree right above his head.

Although Turkey Proudfoot didn't like to obey anybody's orders--and certainly not Mr. Grouse's--there was a note of alarm in the cry that made him squall with terror. He started to run, flapping his wings awkwardly. And just as he rose into the air a reddish, brownish streak flashed beneath him.

Turkey Proudfoot settled himself on a branch of an old oak and looked down at a sharp-faced, grinning person who leered up at him. It was Tommy Fox. And though he looked very pleasant, inside he was feeling quite peevish. If it hadn't been for Mr. Grouse's warning he would surely have captured Turkey Proudfoot.

It was like Turkey Proudfoot not to thank his cousin. And it was like him, too, to fly into a rage.

"You might have warned me sooner," he complained to Mr. Grouse. "That red rascal is quick as lightning. He almost caught me."

"I thought you'd follow me when you saw me rise," said Mr. Grouse.

"I didn't see you."

"Well, you _heard_ me, didn't you?"

"I heard a _whirring_ sound," said Turkey Proudfoot, "but I didn't know what it was."

"Great snakes!" cried Mr. Grouse. "Farmer Green ought not to let you come into the woods--not if he expects you to spend Thanksgiving Day with him!"

Tommy Fox chuckled at that remark.

But Turkey Proudfoot never let on that he heard it. He crouched lower upon the limb of the oak tree and pretended to fall asleep.

Daylight was fast fading.

XIX

NIGHT IN THE WOODS

Mr. Grouse and Tommy Fox soon went about their business, leaving Turkey Proudfoot to roost in the oak tree in the woods.

Though he pretended to be fast asleep, Turkey Proudfoot had kept one eye slightly open. He had seen Tommy Fox trot away toward the pasture. He had heard Mr. Grouse go _whirring_ off into the depths of the woods.

"It's too late to go back to the farmyard this evening," Turkey Proudfoot grumbled. "It's almost dusk already. And there's no telling about Tommy Fox. He may be hiding behind a tree, ready to pounce on me the moment I alight on the ground."

Turkey Proudfoot actually began to feel a bit sleepy. He was in the habit of going early to roost anyhow. So he huddled low on the branch of the oak tree. And soon he was in the land of dreams.

He slept a long time. And while he slept a number of things happened of which he knew nothing.

Tommy Fox came stealing back in the moonlight and gazed up at him with longing eyes.

Miss Kitty Cat, who had prowled through the pasture on a hunt for field mice, spied him. "I declare, that's Turkey Proudfoot!" she exclaimed.

"He must have got lost up here. I certainly shan't wake him and tell him the way home. If I spoke to him he'd be sure to gobble and scare away all the mice in the neighborhood."

Benjamin Bat came zigzagging through the air and all but blundered into Turkey Proudfoot. Missing him by the breadth of a wing, Benjamin Bat hung head downward from a near-by limb and stared at the sleeping form.

"h.e.l.lo!" he squeaked. "Here's a newcomer in these woods. I should think he'd cling to that limb upside down. He'd find it a much safer way than sitting on top of the limb." Benjamin Bat was on the point of rousing Turkey Proudfoot and advising him to change his position when a quavering whistle sent Benjamin hurrying away. He knew the voice of Simon Screecher, Solomon Owl's small cousin. And he had no wish to meet him.

Turkey Proudfoot stirred in his sleep. He was dreaming--dreaming that Johnnie Green was whistling to old dog Spot to come and drive Turkey Proudfoot out of the newly planted cornfield. The whistling seemed to come nearer and nearer. "I won't stir for old Spot," Turkey Proudfoot gobbled aloud in his sleep.

"Maybe you'll stir for me," cried a strange voice. And Turkey Proudfoot woke up with a start.

"Where am I?" he bawled. For a moment he couldn't remember having gone to sleep in the woods.

"You're right up under Blue Mountain," said Simon Screecher. "It's a dangerous place for a stranger to sleep. There are birds and beasts a-plenty in these woods that would make a meal of you if they caught you here."