Old Man Coyote crept to the edge of the bank and peeped over. Poor
Bowser was having a terrible time. You see, the cold water had taken
what little breath his fall had not knocked out of him. He doesn't like
to go in water anyway. You know the hair of his coat is short and
doesn't protect him as it would if it were long. Old Man Coyote grinned
wickedly as he watched Bowser struggling feebly to climb out on the ice.
Each time he tried he slipped back, and all the time he was whimpering.
Old Man Coyote grinned more wickedly than ever. I suspect that he hoped
that Bowser would not be able to get out. But after a little Bowser did
manage to crawl out, and stood on the ice, shivering shaking. Once more
Old Man Coyote grinned, then, turning, he trotted back towards Farmer
Brown's.
CHAPTER IV
POOR BOWSER
Follow a crooked trail and you will find a scamp at the end.
_Bowser the Hound._
Poor Bowser! He stood shivering and shaking on the ice of the strange
river to which Old Man Coyote had led him, and he knew not which way to
turn. Not only was he shivering and shaking from his cold bath, but he
was bruised by his fall from the top of the steep bank, and he was so
tired by his long run after Old Man Coyote that he could hardly stand.
Old Man Coyote had stayed only long enough to see that Bowser had
managed to get out of the water, then had turned back towards the Old
Pasture, the Green Meadows and the Green Forest near Farmer Brown's. You
see, Old Man Coyote knew the way back. He would take his time about
getting there, for it really made no particular difference to him when
he reached home. He felt sure he would be able to find something to eat
on the way.
But with Bowser it was very different. Poor Bowser didn't know where he
was. It would have been bad enough under any circumstances to have been
lost, but to be lost and at the same time tired almost to death, bruised
and lame, wet and chilled through, was almost too much to bear. He
hadn't the least idea which way to turn. He couldn't climb up the bank
to find his own trail and follow it back home if he wanted to. You see,
that bank was very steep for some distance in each direction, and so it
was impossible for Bowser to climb it.
For a few minutes he stood shivering, shaking and whimpering, not
knowing which way to turn. Then he started down the river on the ice,
for he knew he would freeze if he continued to stand still. He limped
badly because one leg had been hurt in his fall. After a while he came
to a place where he could get up on the bank. It was in the midst of
deep woods and a very, very lonely place. Hard crusted snow covered the
ground, but it was better than walking on the ice and for this Bowser
was thankful.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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