With a sudden wrench he sprang free, just as he had the larger cub humped up at the top of the slide, defending his head with all four paws. The result was that fat Woof rolled like a rubber ball straight down the incline, whirling around and around till he came up, plunk, against the trunk of a tree. But to Twinkly Eyes’ surprise Woof not only picked himself up with a laugh of enjoyment, but he raced back up the slope to try it again, ducking his tiny head and doubling up into a ball for the purpose. Again and again he tobogganed down that slope, Twinkly staring after him wide-eyed. So that was the way he had thought to get even! He was so surprised that he stood clear up on his hind legs, staring. Then he tried it himself! [Illustration: [Bears]] XIV A DIFFERENT TWINKLY EYES Summer passed, with its lessons. And thanks to Mother Black Bear, there wasn’t an animal his size in all the Deep Woods that Twinkly Eyes was afraid of, when at last the long sleep came. Emerging in the spring from the snug den in which he and his brother had drowsed away the long months, snuggled close into their mother’s furs, he was a different Twinkly Eyes. He was both older and wiser,—and oh, so much thinner! His voice had deepened, too. Soon he began hunting by himself. For Mother Black Bear now had two new little roly-poly cubs. And sometimes he didn’t find much to eat. One morning he met Tattle-tale the Jay. Now Tattletale was not really a mean fellow: he was just mischievous. He loved to play pranks. His tattling was for the most part a warning to the smaller forest folk of the approach of their enemies, Cooper the Hawk and Bobby Lynx, and Mother Black Bear. When any of these were out for game, he would fly from one tree-top to another just ahead of them, screaming his warning at the top of his lungs, till there wasn’t a hare or a wood mouse anywhere that did not have a chance to run to hiding. Now, though, he was so furious with the Red Squirrels for smashing two of Mrs. Jay’s pretty eggs that he made up his mind to get even. It never once entered his head that he was the first offender. For if he hadn’t begun the quarrel by robbing Shadow Tail, of his poor little hoard of seeds, Mother Red Squirrel would never have harmed the eggs. If he had thought, he might have called it square, instead of making a bad matter worse. But Tattletale didn’t stop to think. All he could see was his own grievance. Besides, Mrs. Jay felt so bad about the eggs that he had to promise her something that would soothe her ruffled feelings. The very next morning, just as the first pink rays of the rising sun began glinting off the dew-wet leaves in the open places, he was flitting about after grasshoppers when he spied Twinkly Eyes, the little Black Bear, slouching along the little trail to Pollywog Pond. “Good morning, Mr. Bear,” he chirped.