a board was floating along on the swollen waters of black creek. on it sat master meadow mouse. he was very happy. he was having his first ride, of any sort.

"this raft—" he said to himself proudly—"this raft belongs to me. i'll be a traveler. i'll see the world—at least as far as the big willow at the lower end of the meadow!"

he scarcely cared to go beyond the big willow. beyond it lay another farm. and master meadow mouse had never been off farmer green's place in his whole life. he feared that he might not be able to find his way back, if he ventured too far from home.

soon he spied a friend on the bank of the creek. master meadow mouse cried, "good-by!" and waved a paw at him.

the person on the bank was one of his many cousins. and when he caught sight of master meadow mouse he stared hard for a few moments. then he shouted, "don't jump! i'll rescue you." he was already running to the water's edge when master meadow mouse stopped him.

"i don't want to be rescued," he called. "i'm seeing the world."

his cousin hurried along the bank, still watching the strange sight.

"it seems to me—" he told master meadow mouse—"it seems to me that the world is seeing you. where would you hide if henry hawk discovered you?"

master meadow mouse did not answer. to tell the truth, the question set him to thinking. he had to admit that it might be a bit awkward to find any cover in case somebody or other made a sudden swoop at him.

"oh, well!" he said at last. "it can't be helped. there's always some danger in traveling—so i've heard."

his cousin on the bank had stopped running and now stood still and watched him anxiously until the raft had borne master meadow mouse out of sight around a bend.

as the flood swung the craft toward the further side of the creek master meadow mouse beheld a long-legged fisherman standing in the water. not only did the fisherman have long legs. he had a long bill as well. and he was standing like a statue, waiting for a fish to swim past him. a fish, or a frog, or a mouse! he didn't care which.

master meadow mouse knew him at once. he was mr. great blue heron—or plain "g. b." as he preferred to be called. while master meadow mouse gazed at him in horror mr. heron swiftly thrust his spearlike bill into the water. even his head went out of sight for a moment.

mr. heron did not do that in order to cool his head. ah, no! when he pulled his bill out of the creek a pickerel came with it. and the pickerel vanished very quickly down mr. heron's long neck.

it was not a nice sight for master meadow mouse to see, especially when he was on a pleasure trip. besides, he noticed with dismay that his raft was bearing him straight towards the fisherman.

"if i only had some oars, or a rudder, i could steer this old raft away from him," master meadow mouse thought. but he had nothing of the sort.

master meadow mouse groaned.

"i wish i'd never gone a-traveling!"