The Burgess Animal Book for Children

by Thornton W. Burgess

  “Do you try to get fat before going to sleep, the way I do?” asked Johnny Chuck.

  Buster grinned. “Yes, Johnny, I try,” said he, “and usually I succeed. You see, I need to be fat in order to keep warm and also to have something to live on in the spring, just the same as you do.”

  “I’ve been told that you can climb, but as I don’t live in the Green Forest I have never seen you climb. I should think it would be slow work for such a big fellow as you to climb a tree,” said Johnny Chuck.

  Buster looked up at Happy Jack Squirrel and winked. Then he walked over to the tree in which Happy Jack was sitting, stood up and suddenly began to scramble up the tree. There was nothing slow about the way Buster Bear went up that tree. Happy Jack squealed with sudden fright and started for the top of that tree as only Happy Jack can climb. Then he made a flying jump to the next tree. Halfway up Buster stopped. Then he began to come down. He came down tail first. When he was within ten feet of the ground he simply let go and dropped.

  “I did that just to show you how I get out of a tree when I am really in a hurry,” explained Buster. “I don’t climb trees much now unless it is for honey, but when I was a little fellow I used to love to climb trees.”

  Suddenly Buster sat up very straight and pointed his nose up in the wind. An anxious look crept into his face. He cocked his ears as if listening with all his might. That is just what he was doing. Presently he dropped down to all fours. “Excuse me,” said he, “I think I had better be going. Farmer Brown is coming down the Lone Little Path.”

  Buster turned and disappeared at a speed that was simply astonishing in such a clumsy-looking fellow. Old Mother Nature laughed. “Buster’s eyes are not very good,” said she, “but there is nothing the matter with his nose or with his ears. If Buster says that Farmer Brown is coming down the Lone Little Path, there is no doubt that he is, although he may be some distance away yet. Buster has been smart enough to learn that he has every reason to fear man, and he promptly takes himself out of the way at the first hint that man is near. It is a funny thing, but most men are as afraid of Buster as Buster is of them, and they haven’t the least need of being afraid at all. Where man is concerned there isn’t one of you little people more timid than Buster Bear. The faintest smell of man will make him run. If he should be wounded, or cornered, he would fight. Mrs. Bear would fight to protect her babies, but these are the only conditions under which a Black Bear will face a man. You think Buster is big, and he is, but Buster has relatives very much bigger than he. He has one beside whom he would look actually small. I’ll tell you a little about these cousins of Buster.”

  SILVERTIP THE GRIZZLY BEAR. Famous for his strength and fierceness he has been hunted until now; he must be protected to preserve the species. See page 219.

  33. Buster Bear’s Big Cousins

  BUSTER Bear had been right about the coming of Farmer Brown. It was only a few minutes after Buster’s disappearance that Farmer Brown’s footsteps were heard coming down the Lone Little Path, and of course that ended school for that morning. But the next morning all were on hand again at sun-up, for every one wanted to hear about Buster Bear’s big cousins.

  “Way out in the mountains of the Far West, where Whistler the Marmot and Little Chief the Pika live, is a big cousin of Buster Bear,” began Old Mother Nature. “He is Silvertip the Grizzly Bear, and in the past no animal in all this great country was so feared by man, as he. But times have changed, and Silvertip has been so hunted with terrible guns that he has learned to fear man quite as much as Buster does.

  “He is larger than Buster and possessed of tremendous strength. Instead of a black coat, he has a coat which varies from yellowish-brown to almost black. The tips of the hairs usually are lighter, giving him a frosted appearance, and this is what has given him his name. His claws are longer and more curved than those of Buster; in fact those claws are so big that they look very terrible. Because they are so long, Silvertip cannot climb trees. But if they prevent him climbing trees they are the finest kind of tools for digging out Marmots and ground Squirrels. Even when Whistler the Marmot makes his home down in among the rocks, he is not safe. Silvertip’s strength is so great that he can pull over and roll aside great rocks.

  “He is a great traveler and covers a wide range of country in his search for food. Sometimes he visits the Cattle ranges and kills Cattle. So great is his strength that he can kill a Cow with ease. Clumsy looking as he is, he is a very fast runner, and only a fast Horse can outrun him. Like Buster, he lives on anything he can find that is eatable. He has been so hunted by man that he has become very cunning, and in all the great mountains where he lives there is no one with quicker wits. At certain seasons of the year great numbers of a fish called Salmon come up the rivers in that country, and then Silvertip lives high. He watches beside a pool until a Salmon swims within reach; then, with a swift movement of one paw, he scoops the fish on to the bank. Or he finds a place where the water is so shallow that the fish have difficulty in getting across, and there he seizes them as they struggle up the river. In winter he sleeps just as Buster does, usually in a well-hidden cave.

  “Mrs. Silvertip is a splendid mother. Usually the cubs, of which as a rule there are two, remain with her until they are a year old. Both Buster Bear and Silvertip have a queer habit of standing up against a tree and biting it as high up as they can reach. The next Bear who comes along that way sees the mark and makes his own on the same tree. Silvertip knows every inch of that part of the country in which he lives and always picks out the best way of getting from one place to another. He is one of the finest animals in this country, and it is a matter for sadness that his splendid race will soon come to an end unless man makes laws to protect him from the hunters. In very many places where he used to be found he lives no longer.

  “Silvertip is not so good-natured as Buster, but all he asks is to be left alone. Of course when he turns Cattle killer he is getting into the worst possible kind of mischief, and man cannot be blamed for hunting him. But it is only now and then that one of Silvertip’s family turns Cattle killer. The others do no harm.

  “I told you yesterday that Buster Bear has one cousin beside whom he would look small. This is Bigfoot the Alaska or Great Brown Bear, who lives in the extreme northwest part of the continent. Even Silvertip would look small beside him. He is a giant, the largest flesh-eating animal in all the great world. His coat is dark brown. When he stands up on his hind legs, he is almost half again as tall as a tall man. He stands very high at the shoulders and his head is very large. Like the other members of the Bear family, he eats all sorts of things. He hunts for Mice and other small animals, digs up roots, stuffs himself with berries, and at times grazes on a kind of wild grass, just as Cattle might do. He is a great fish eater, for fish are very plentiful in the streams in the country where he lives. Big as he is, he has learned to fear man just as Silvertip has. Occasionally when surprised he has been known to attack man and kill him, but as a rule he will run at the first hint of man’s approach.

  “The last of the Bear cousins is Snow King the Polar Bear. Snow King is king of the Frozen North. He lives in the region of snow and ice, and his coat is all white. He also is a big Bear, and of somewhat different shape from his cousins. He is longer, and has a much longer neck and a long head. His ears are rather small and close to his head. Snow King lives the year round where it would seem that no animal could live, and he manages to live well. Though his home is in the coldest part of the Great World, he does not mind the cold at all.

  “More than any other member of the Bear family, Snow King is a flesh eater. This is because only in certain places, and then only for a few weeks in midsummer, is there any plant life. He is a great fisherman, and fish furnish him a great deal of his food. In that far northern country are great numbers of animals who live in the ocean, but come ashore to rest and bask in the sun, and to have their babies there. They are Seals, Sea Lions and Walruses. I will tell you about them later. On these Sno
w King depends for much of his food. He is himself a wonderful swimmer, and often swims far out in the icy water.

  “Up there there are great fields of floating ice, and Snow King swims from one to another in search of Seals, for they often climb out on these ice fields, just as they do on shore. Sometimes Mrs. Bear takes her cubs for long swims. When they become tired, one will climb on her back, and the other will seize her tail, so she will carry one and tow the other.

  “Snow King’s babies are born in a house of snow. Early in the winter Mrs. Bear finds a sheltered place where the snow will drift over her. There she goes to sleep, and the snow drifts and drifts over her until she is buried deep. You might think she would be cold, but she isn’t, for the snow keeps her warm. Her breath melts a little hole up through the snow, so that she always has air. There the babies are born, and there they remain, just as Buster Bear’s remain in their home, until they are big enough to follow their mother about. Then she breaks her way out in the spring, and leads her cubs forth to teach them how to take care of themselves. Snow King, himself, does not sleep through the winter, but roams about, just as in the summer.

  “Snow King is fearless and has not yet learned to dread man, as have his cousins. He will not hesitate to attack man and is terrible to meet at close quarters. Because he lives in that far, cold country, he is not hunted as much as other bears are. Besides the Seals and fish, he sometimes catches an Arctic Hare. In the summer great numbers of Ducks and other sea birds nest in that far northern country, and their eggs and young add to Snow King’s bill of fare. His white coat is so in keeping with his surroundings that it is of the greatest aid to him in his hunting. It is a very beautiful coat and makes him the most beautiful of all the Bear family.

  “Now this is all about the Bears, and also it is all about the order of flesh eaters, or Carnivora. I think that next we will see what we can find out about a certain little friend of yours, who, though he eats flesh, is not a member of the flesh-eating order at all, but belongs to an order of which he is the only member in this country. I will leave you to guess who it is.”

  34. Unc’ Billy and Old Mrs. Possum

  ALL the way home from school Peter Rabbit did his best to think who it could be who ate flesh, yet wasn’t a member of the order of flesh eaters. Every few hops he would stop to think, but all his stopping and all his thinking were in vain, and when he started for school the next morning he was as puzzled as ever. On his way through the Green Forest he passed a certain tree. He was just past and no more when a familiar voice hailed him.

  “Morning, Bre’r Rabbit,” said the voice. “What’s yo’ hurry?”

  Peter stopped abruptly and looked up in that tree. There, peering down at him from a hole high up in the trunk, was a sharp, whitish-gray face, with a pair of twinkling black eyes.

  “Hello, Unc’ Billy,” cried Peter. “How are you and Ol’ Mrs. Possum?”

  “Po’ly, Peter, Po’ly. We-uns haven’t had breakfast yet, so we-uns are feeling po’ly,” replied Unc’ Billy with a grin.

  A sudden thought popped into Peter’s head. “Unc’ Billy,” cried Peter excitedly, “are you a Carnivora?”

  Unc’ poked his head a little farther out and put his hand behind his ear as if he were a little hard of hearing. “What’s that, Bre’r Rabbit? Am I a what?” he demanded.

  “Are you a Carnivora?” repeated Peter.

  “Ah reckons Ah might be if Ah knew what it was, but as long as Ah don’t, Ah reckons I ain’t,” retorted Unc’ Billy. “Ah reckons Ah’m just plain Possum. When Ah wants to be real uppity, Ah puts on an ‘o.’ Then Ah am Mister Opossum.”

  BIGFOOT THE ALASKAN BROWN BEAR. Not only is he the largest of all Bears but he is the largest flesh-eating mammal in the world. See page 221.

  But Peter wasn’t listening. The fact is, Peter had started lipperty-lipperty-lip for school, without even being polite enough to say good-by. He arrived at school quite out of breath. “I know!” he panted. “I know!”

  “What do you know?” asked Old Mother Nature.

  “I know who it is who eats flesh, yet doesn’t belong to the order of flesh eaters. It’s Unc’ Billy Possum!” cried Peter.

  “Right you are,” replied Old Mother Nature. “However did you find it out?”

  “I didn’t exactly find it out; I guessed it,” replied Peter. “On my way here I saw Unc’ Billy, and it popped into my head right away that he was one we haven’t heard about, and must be the one. But if he eats flesh, I don’t see why he isn’t a member of the order of flesh eaters.”

  “It is because he belongs to a group which has something which makes them entirely different from all other animals, and for this reason they have been given an order of their own,” explained Old Mother Nature. “They belong to the order of Marsupials, which means pouched animals. It is because the mothers have big pockets in which they carry their babies. Old Mrs. Possum has just such a pocket.”

  “Of course,” exclaimed Peter. “I’ve seen those babies poking their heads out of that pocket. They look too funny for anything.”

  “The Opossums are the only Marsupials in this country,” continued Old Mother Nature. “Now have I made it quite clear why, although they eat flesh, Unc’ Billy and Ol’ Mrs. Possum are not members of the same big order as Buster Bear and the other flesh eaters?”

  Everybody nodded. Just then Chatterer the Red Squirrel shouted, “Here comes Unc’ Billy, Ol’ Mrs. Possum and all the little Possums.”

  Sure enough, down the Lone Little Path came the Possum family, and a funny-looking sight they were. Unc’ Billy was whitish-gray, his face whiter than the rest of him. He looked as if he had just gotten out of bed and forgotten to brush his hair; it pointed every which way. His legs were dark, his feet black and his toes white. His ears were without any hair at all, and were black for the lower half, the rest being white. He had a long whitish tail without any hair on it. Altogether, with his sharp face and naked tail, he looked a great deal as though he might be a giant Rat.

  But if Unc’ Billy was a funny-looking fellow, Ol’ Mrs. Possum was even more funny-looking. She seemed to have heads and tails all over her. You see, she had brought along her family, and Ol’ Mrs. Possum is one of those who believe in large families. There were twelve youngsters, and they were exactly like their parents, only small. They were clinging all over Ol’ Mrs. Possum. Some were on her back, some were clinging to her sides, and a couple were in the big pocket, where they had spent their babyhood.

  “We-all done thought we’d come to school,” explained Unc’ Billy with a grin.

  “I’m glad you did,” replied Old Mother Nature. “You see, the rest of your friends here are a little curious about the Possum family.”

  Meanwhile Ol’ Mrs. Possum was climbing a tree, and when she had reached a comfortable crotch the little Possums left her and began to play about in the tree. It was then that it appeared what handy things those naked little tails were. When the little Possums crawled out where the branches were small, they simply wrapped their tails around the twigs to keep from falling.

  “My!” exclaimed Peter. “Those certainly are handy tails.”

  “Handiest tails ever was,” declared Unc’ Billy. “Don’t know what Ah ever would do without mah tail.”

  “Suppose you climb a tree, Unc’ Billy, and show your friends here how you manage to get the eggs from a nest that you cannot reach by crawling along the branch on which it is placed,” said Old Mother Nature.

  Unc’ Billy grinned, and good-naturedly started up a tree. He crept out on a branch that overhung another branch. Way out where the branch was small crept Unc’ Billy. Then he wrapped the end of his tail around the branch and swung himself off, keeping hold of the branch only with his tail and one hind foot. Then, stretching down full length, he could just reach the branch below him. “You see,” he explained, “if there was a nest on this branch down here, Ah could get those eggs without any trouble. Ah wish there was a nest. Just speaking of eggs makes mah mouth
water.” Again Unc’ Billy grinned and then pulled himself back to the other branch.

  Old Mother Nature shook her head reprovingly. “Unc’ Billy,” said she, “you are a bad old rascal to steal eggs. What’s more, it doesn’t matter to you much whether you find eggs or young birds in a nest. It is a wonder that between you and Chatterer the Red Squirrel any of the birds succeed in raising families around here. Have you visited Farmer Brown’s hen house lately?”

  Unc’ Billy shook his head. “Not lately,” said he; “Ah done got a dreadful scare the last time Ah was up there, and Ah reckons Ah’ll stay away from there for a while.”

  “What else do you eat?” asked Old Mother Nature.

  “Anything,” replied Unc’ Billy. “Ah reckons Ah ain’t no ways particular,—insects, roots, Frogs, Toads, small Snakes, Lizards, berries, fruits, nuts, young Rats and Mice, corn, any old meat that has been left lying around. Ah reckon Ah could find a meal most any time most anywhere.”

  “Do you always have as big a family as you have there?” asked Peter Rabbit.

  “Not always,” replied Unc’ Billy. “But sometimes Mrs. Possum has to tote around a still bigger family. We believe in chillun and lots of them. We reckon on havin’ two or three big families every year.”

  “Where is your home?” asked Johnny Chuck.

  “I know,” said Peter Rabbit. “It’s up in a big hollow tree.”