it was not often that tommy caught so much as a glimpse of billy mink; and every time he did, he had the feeling that he had been smart, very smart indeed. the funny thing is that this feeling annoyed tommy. yes, it did. it annoyed him because it seemed so very foolish to think that there was anything smart in just seeing billy mink. and yet every time he did see him, he had the feeling that he had really done something out of the usual.

little by little, he realized that it was because billy mink himself is so smart, and manages to keep out of sight so much of the time, that just seeing him once in a while gave him the feeling of being smarter than billy.

at the same time, he was never quite sure that billy didn’t intend to be seen. somehow that little brown-coated scamp always seemed to be playing with him. he would appear so suddenly that tommy never could tell just where he came from. and he would disappear quite as quickly. tommy never could tell where he went. he just vanished, that was all. it was this that made tommy feel that he had been smart to see him at all.

now tommy had been acquainted with billy mink for a long time. that is to say, he had known billy by sight. more than that, he had tried to trap billy, and in trying to trap him he had learned some of billy’s ways. in fact, tommy had spent a great deal of time trying to catch billy. you see, he wanted that little brown fur coat of billy’s because he could sell it. but it was very clear that billy wanted that little fur coat himself to wear, and also that he knew all about traps.

so billy still wore his coat, and tommy had taken up his traps and put them away with a sigh for the money which he had hoped that that coat would bring him, and with a determination that, when cold weather should come again, he would get it. you see it was summer now, and the little fur coat was of no value then save to billy himself.

in truth, tommy would have forgotten all about it until autumn came again had not billy suddenly popped out in front of him that very morning, while tommy was trying to catch a trout in a certain quiet pool in the laughing brook deep in the green forest. tommy had been sitting perfectly still, like the good fisherman that he was, not making the tiniest sound, when he just seemed to feel two eyes fixed on him. very, very slowly tommy turned his head. he did it so slowly that it almost seemed as if he didn’t move it at all. but careful as he was, he had no more than a bare glimpse of a little brown animal, who disappeared as by magic.

“it’s that mink,” thought tommy, and continued to stare at the spot where he had last seen billy. the rustle of a leaf almost behind him caused him to forget and to turn quickly. again he had just a glimpse of something brown. then it was gone. where, he hadn’t the least idea. it was gone, that was all.

tommy forgot all about trout. it was more fun to try to get a good look at billy mink and to see what he was doing and where he was going. tommy remembered all that he had been taught or had read about how to act when trying to watch his little wild neighbors and he did the best he could, but all he got was a fleeting glimpse now and then which was most tantalizing. at last he gave up and reeled in his fish-line. then he started for home. all the way he kept thinking of billy mink. he couldn’t get billy out of his head.

little by little he realized how, when all was said and done, he didn’t know anything about billy. that is, he didn’t really know—he just guessed at things.

“and here he is one of my neighbors,” thought tommy. “i know a great deal about peter rabbit, and chatterer the red squirrel, and reddy fox, and a lot of others, but i don’t know anything about billy mink, and he’s too smart to let me find out. huh! he needn’t be so secret about everything. i’m not going to hurt him.”

then into tommy’s head crept a guilty remembrance of those traps. a little flush crept into tommy’s face. “anyway, i’m not going to hurt him now,” he added.

by this time he had reached the great gray stone on the edge of the green meadows, the wishing-stone. just as a matter of course he sat down on the edge of it. he never could get by without sitting down on it.

it was a very beautiful scene that stretched out before tommy, but, though he seemed to be gazing out at it, he didn’t see it at all. he was looking through unseeing eyes. the fact is, he was too busy thinking, and his thoughts were all of billy mink. it must be great fun to be able to go and come any hour of the day or night, and to be so nimble and smart.

“i wish i were a mink,” said tommy, slowly and very earnestly.

of course you know what happened then. the same thing happened that had happened before on the old wishing-stone. tommy was the very thing he had wished to be. he was a mink. yes, sir, tommy was a tiny furry little fellow, with brothers and sisters and the nicest little home, in a hollow log hidden among bulrushes, close by the laughing brook and with a big pile of brush near it. indeed, one end of the old log was under the brush-pile.

that made the very safest kind of a play-ground for the little minks. it was there that mother mink gave them their first lessons in a game called “now-you-see-me-now-you-don’t.” they thought they were just playing, but all the time they were learning something that would be most important and useful to them when they were older.

tommy was very quick to learn and just as quick in his movements, so that it wasn’t long before he could out-run, out-dodge, and out-hide any of his companions, and mother mink began to pay special attention to his education. she was proud of him, and because she was proud of him she intended to teach him all the mink lore which she knew.

so tommy was the first of the family to be taken fishing. ever since he and his brothers and sisters had been big enough to eat solid food, they had had fish as a part of their bill of fare, and there was nothing that tommy liked better. where they came from, he had never bothered to ask. all he cared about was the eating of them. but now he was actually going to catch some, and he felt very important as he glided along behind his mother.

presently they came to a dark, deep pool in the laughing brook. mrs. mink peered into its depths. there was the glint of something silvery down there in the brown water. in a flash mrs. mink had disappeared in the pool, entering the water so smoothly as to hardly make a splash. for a moment tommy saw her dark form moving swiftly, then he lost it. his little eyes blazed with eagerness and excitement as he watched.

ha! what was that? there was something moving under water on the other side of the pool. then out popped the brown head of mrs. mink and in her teeth was a fat trout. tommy’s mouth watered at the sight. what a feast he would have!

but instead of bringing the fish to him, mrs. mink climbed out on the opposite bank and disappeared in the brush there. tommy swallowed hard with disappointment. could it be that he wasn’t to have any of it after all? in a few minutes mrs. mink was back again, but there was no sign of the fish. then tommy knew that she had hidden it, and for just a minute a wicked thought popped into his head. he would swim across and hunt for it. but mother mink didn’t give him a chance. though tommy didn’t see it, there was a twinkle in her eyes as she said,

“now you have seen how easy it is to catch a fish, i shall expect you to catch all you eat hereafter. come along with me to the next pool and show me how well you have learned your lesson.”

she led the way down the laughing brook, and presently they came to another little brown pool. eagerly tommy peered into it. at first he saw nothing. then, almost under him, he discovered a fat trout lazily watching for a good meal to come along. with a great splash tommy dived into the pool. for just a second he closed his eyes as he struck the water. when he opened them, the trout was nowhere to be seen. tommy looked very crest-fallen and foolish as he crawled up on the bank, where mother mink was laughing at him.

“how do you expect to catch fish when you splash like that?” she asked. tommy didn’t know, so he said nothing. “now you come with me and practise on little fish first,” she continued and led him to a shallow pool in which a school of minnows were at play.

now tommy was particularly fond of trout, as all mink are, and he was inclined to turn up his nose at minnows. but he wisely held his tongue and prepared to show that he had learned his lesson. this time he slipped into the water quietly and then made a swift dash at the nearest minnow. he missed it quite as mother mink had expected he would. but now his dander was up. he would catch one of those minnows if it took him all the rest of the day! three times he tried and missed, but the fourth time his sharp little teeth closed on a finny victim and he proudly swam ashore with the fish.

“things you catch yourself always taste best,” said mother mink. “now we’ll go over on the meadows and catch some mice.”

tommy scowled. “i want to catch some more fish,” said he.

“not the least bit of use for you to try,” retorted mother mink. “don’t you see that you have frightened those minnows so that they have left the pool? besides, it is time that you learned to hunt as well as fish, and you’ll find it is just as much fun.”

tommy doubted it, but he obediently trotted along at the heels of mother mink out onto the green meadows. presently they came to a tiny little path through the meadow grasses. mother mink sniffed in it and tommy did the same. there was the odor of meadow-mouse, and once more tommy’s mouth watered. he quite forgot about the fish. mother mink darted ahead and presently tommy heard a faint squeak. he hurried forward to find mother mink with a fat meadow-mouse. tommy smacked his lips, but she took no notice. instead, she calmly ate the meadow-mouse herself.

tommy didn’t need to be told that if he wanted meadow-mouse he would have to catch one for himself. with a little angry toss of his head he trotted off along the little path. presently he came to another. his nose told him a meadow-mouse had been along that way recently. with his nose to the ground he began to run.

other little paths branched off from the one he was in. tommy paid no attention to them until suddenly he realized that he no longer smelled meadow-mouse. he kept on a little farther, hoping that he would find that entrancing smell again. but he didn’t, so he stopped to consider. then he[70] turned and ran back, keeping his nose to the ground. so he came to one of those little branch paths and there he caught the smell of meadow-mouse again. he turned into the little branch path and the smell grew stronger. he ran faster.

then his quick ears caught the sound of scurrying feet ahead of him. he darted along, and there, running for his life, was a fat meadow-mouse. half a dozen bounds brought tommy up with him, whereupon the mouse turned to fight. now the mouse was big and a veteran, and tommy was only a youngster. it was his first fight. for just a second he paused at the sight of the sharp little teeth confronting him. then he sprang into his first fight.

the fierce lust of battle filled him. his eyes blazed red. there was a short sharp struggle and then the mouse went limp and lifeless. very proudly tommy dragged it out to where mother mink was waiting. she would have picked it up and carried it easily, but tommy wasn’t big enough for that.

after that tommy went hunting or fishing every day. sometimes the whole family went, and such fun as they would have! one day they would hunt frogs around the edge of the smiling pool. again they would visit a swamp and dig out worms and insects. but best of all they liked to hunt the meadow-mice.

so the long summer wore away and the family kept together. but as the cool weather of the fall came, tommy grew more and more restless. he wanted to see the great world. sometimes he would go off and be gone two or three days at a time. then one day he bade the old home good-by forever, though he didn’t know it at the time. he simply started off, following the laughing brook to the great river, in search of adventure. and in the joy of exploring new fields he forgot all about home.

he was a fine big fellow by this time and very smart in the ways of the mink world. life was just a grand holiday. he hunted or fished when he was hungry, and when he was tired he curled up in the nearest hiding-place and slept. sometimes it was in a hollow log or stump. again it was in an old rock-pile or under a heap of brush. when he had slept enough, he was off again on his travels, and it made no difference to him whether it was night or day. he just ate when he pleased, slept when he pleased, and wandered on where and when he pleased.

he was afraid of no one. once in a while a fox would try to catch him or a fierce hawk would swoop at him, but tommy would dodge like a flash, and laugh as he ducked into some hole or other hiding-place. he had learned that quickness of movement often is more than a match for mere size and strength. so he was not afraid of any of his neighbors, for those he was not strong enough to fight he was clever enough to elude.

he could run swiftly, climb like a squirrel, and swim like a fish. because he was so slim, he could slip into all kinds of interesting holes and dark corners, and explore stone and brush piles. in fact he could go almost anywhere he pleased. his nose was as keen as that of a dog. he was always testing the air or sniffing at the ground for the odor of other little people who had passed that way. when he was hungry and ran across the trail of some one he fancied, he would follow it just as bowser the hound follows the trail of reddy fox. sometimes he would follow the trail of reddy himself, just to see what he was doing.

for the most part he kept near water. he dearly loved to explore a brook, running along beside it, swimming the pools, investigating every hole in the banks and the piles of drift stuff. when he was feeling lazy and there were no fish handy, he would catch a frog or two,[75] or a couple of pollywogs, or a crayfish.

occasionally he would leave the low land and the water for the high land and hunt rabbits and grouse. sometimes he surprised other ground birds. once he visited a farmyard and, slipping into the hen-house at night, killed three fat hens. of course he could not eat the whole of even one.

tommy asked no favors of any one. his was a happy, care-free life. to be sure he had few friends save among his own kind, but he didn’t mind this. he rather enjoyed the fact that all who were smaller, and some who were larger, than he feared him. he was lithe and strong and wonderfully quick.

fighting was a joy. it was this as much as anything that led him into a fight with a big muskrat, much bigger than himself. the muskrat was stout, and his great teeth looked dangerous. but he was slow and clumsy in his movements compared with tommy, and, though he was full of courage and fought hard, the battle was not long. after that tommy hunted muskrats whenever the notion seized him.

winter came, but tommy minded it not at all. his thick fur coat kept him warm, and the air was like tonic in his veins. it was good to be alive. he hunted rabbits in the snow. he caught fish at spring-holes in the ice. he traveled long distances under the ice, running along the edge of the water where it had fallen away from the frozen crust, swimming when he had to, investigating muskrat holes, and now and then surprising the tenant.

unlike his small cousin, shadow the weasel, he seldom hunted and killed just for the fun of killing. sometimes, when fishing was especially good and he caught more than he could use, he would hide them away against a day of need. in killing, the mink is simply obeying the law of old mother nature, for she has given him flesh-eating teeth, and without meat he could not live. in this respect he is no worse than man, for man kills to live.

for the most of the time, tommy was just a happy-go-lucky traveler, who delighted in exploring new places and who saw more of the great world than most of his neighbors. the weather never bothered him. he liked the sun, but he would just as soon travel in the rain. when a fierce snow-storm raged, he[78] traveled under the ice along the bed of the nearest brook or river. it was just the life he had dreamed of as a boy. he was an adventurer, a freebooter, and all the world was his. he had no work. he had no fear, for as yet he had not encountered man. hooty the owl by night and certain of the big hawks by day were all he had to watch out for, and these he did not really fear, for he felt himself too smart for them.

but at last he did learn fear. it came to him when he discovered another mink fast in a trap. he didn’t understand those strange jaws which bit into the flesh and held and yet were not alive. he hid near-by and watched, and he saw a great two-legged creature come and take the mink away. then, cautiously, tommy investigated. he caught the odor of the man scent, and a little chill of fear ran down his backbone.

but in spite of all his care there came a fateful day. he was running along a brook in shallow water when snap! from the bottom of the brook itself the dreadful jaws sprang up and caught him by a leg. there had been no smell of man to give him warning, for the running water had carried it away. tommy gave a little shriek as he felt the dreadful thing, and then—he was just tommy, sitting on the wishing-stone.

he stared thoughtfully over at the green forest. then he shuddered. you see he remembered just how he had felt when that trap had snapped on his leg. “i don’t want your fur coat, billy mink,” said he, just as if billy could hear him. “if it wasn’t for traps, you surely would enjoy life. just the same i wouldn’t trade places with you, not even if i do have to hoe corn just when i want to go swimming!”

and with this, tommy started for home and the hoe, and somehow the task didn’t look so very dreadful after all.