Part 7

Mr. Woodchuck did not know about the passenger he was carrying, and Anthony Ant was too frightened to try to call to him to stop. So on he went with Mr. Woodchuck, and Mr. Woodchuck headed straight out to the open field where the grass was not so deep, and the weeds were not so tall as near the log. How wet the field was! The Ant luckily was on top of the Woodchuck’s back, and well down in the fur, so he did not get the brushing from the grasses and weeds he would have had on either of Mr. Woodchuck’s sides.

[Illustration: _The Woodchuck went in the same direction the Ant wished to go_]

The Woodchuck went in the same direction the Ant wished to go--straight as could be toward the right--and that was something worth while. But out in the middle of the field was one of the entrances of Burrow Hall, and all at once Anthony Ant found himself going down into a hole under a great rock. Something must be done about it that instant if he did not want to get lost in the middle of the earth. He caught at a grass blade bending near enough to reach him, and drew himself up to the stem. Mr. Woodchuck therefore went down into the hole without his passenger, and the Ant was safe and sound very much farther on his way around the world, and also in a good, dry spot where it would be a fine plan for him to stay for the night. By morning it would be dry in the field, so he could travel twice as fast. He sat and swayed on the long grass stem, and fixed his feelers, and scrubbed himself nice and clean, and ate all but just enough for his breakfast in the morning. Then, when the sun went down, he cuddled into the place where one of the blades of grass was joined to the stem, and there he fell fast asleep, without dreaming he was a Pirate, either.

The world was all singing and shining and smelling sweet when he woke in the morning as rested as could be. Oh, but it would be a fine day to travel! He could imagine the other Ants of Ant-Hill Manor getting out their little wheelbarrows from the tool house and starting in for the day’s work after a nice breakfast. A tiny lump came into his throat even on this lovely morning when he felt so brave. Just to think of them all so contented and happy at their work made him a little homesick. He would have been glad to work with them that fine morning, he knew. But he wouldn’t go home yet. No--no, sir-ee, so there! He coughed to show how brave he was. He ate all that remained of his food to show how brave he was, and the breakfast made him feel braver yet.

First of all, he would go hunting food as he so often had done at home. When his lunch basket was well filled, he would show that he could take the whole of Dr. Alexander Beetle Bug’s prescription whether it was good or bad to follow out.

But here the worst thing of all happened. Anthony Ant was too quick in bragging about what he would do. He stepped off too lively on his next Ant Venture. Ants sometimes lose their balance or their footing, you know, and Anthony Ant lost both his balance and his footing at the same time. Down he went to the short grasses below. While a fall like that would not have made a bit of difference to him usually, this time it did for the reason that he landed upon the veranda of a fine, new home a large jumpy Spider had just finished building. That is what the large jumpy Spider built the veranda for. He had made the veranda webby and sticky on purpose. Though he made it for catching flies, he did not in the least object to other insects he might eat.

[Illustration: _Anthony Ant lost both his balance and his footing at the same time_]

“Ho, I have you now!” he cried, as he ran out from his house cave back in the clover.

“Oh, please don’t hurt me!” cried Anthony Ant. “I fell down quite by accident. I did not mean to!”

“I can’t help that,” said the Spider. “I’ve got you now, and as soon as I get you tied up I shall take you back into my house and eat you.”

Oh, how poor Anthony Ant cried! He kicked and he screamed, and his feet were more and more tangled in the web all the time.

The Spider was just reaching for him and would have given him a big bite to quiet him until the tying had been done, when a big, buzzy thing pounded down so hard into the web veranda that the large jumpy Spider ran back in a hurry. It was a big Bumblebee, and he was so angry at the way the Spider was treating so small a creature as Anthony Ant that he flew from a clover-blossom feast he was having, and bounced up and down upon the web veranda to show what he thought of such business.

When the Spider saw who he was, there was a fight, I can tell you! Out rushed the Spider with more web ropes and jumped all around the Bumblebee, biting at him and trying to tangle him in the ropes. But the Bumblebee took care to keep his wings out of the web, and he bounced the veranda up and down so hard that he tore it all to pieces, and got out Anthony Ant and pulled him away from the place. Then when he saw how Anthony’s feet were tangled, he helped untangle them. Anthony told him about the dressing case, and the Bumblebee hunted until he found it, and Anthony’s hat and basket too. It was not long before Anthony and the Bumblebee had their bruises and knocks bandaged and dressed with salve and healing things.

“Say,” said the Bumblebee, “that was a close shave, wasn’t it?”

[Illustration: _Off the Bumblebee bumbled_]

“Oh!” cried Anthony Ant. “I owe you my very life, sir! I never can repay you!”

“Oh, yes you can,” said the Bumblebee with a grin.

“How?” asked the Ant eagerly.

“By coming up to Clover Lodge for tea at four o’clock this afternoon. That is Clover Lodge, yonder. I’ve got to be off to work now, but I always stop at four for a bit of refreshment. It rests me, for you see I’m an old fellow. I’ll say good-by now, but shall hope to see you there on the tip-top blossom at the hour named. Good-by!” And off he bumbled.

AT CLOVER LODGE

To sit upon a sweet, pink clover blossom is more than pleasant. But to sit there sipping clover tea, with clover sandwiches and clover honey and clover cakes, while you talk to a nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee, is about as magic as anything that can happen.

“It hasn’t hurt you to take a day from your work, I’m sure,” remarked the nice old fubbly Bumblebee. “You could not have worked after that jambling and jipping you had in the Spider’s web. It is a wonder you could even crawl as far as this, but I knew that if you could manage it a bit of refreshment here at Clover Lodge would set you right up. Feel better already, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes, sir, I do!” cried the Ant.

“You are such a busy creature naturally,” said the Bumblebee, “that I have been wondering how you happened to get into the Spider’s neighborhood at all. I have not seen any Ant homes near there.”

Anthony hung his head.

“I wasn’t working,” he confessed.

“What!” cried the nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee. “Not working! Oh, I see, I see! You were off on a hunting trip after food for the family pantry.”

“No, sir,” said Anthony Ant meekly.

“Sick, then?” asked the Bumblebee gently.

“No, sir,” said Anthony Ant, and told him the whole story.

Well, how that nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee laughed! He laughed most of all at the point where Anthony told the name of the doctor.

“What! Alec Beetle Bug? The old rascal! I know him well. He is a good sort, but a regular Villain for jokes too. Oh, he’s all right, and his prescription hasn’t hurt you, though I wish he could see how nearly it made an end of you! Never mind. Stick to the cure, only look out for jumpy Spiders next time. Well, well, well!” And he fell to chuckling so hard that the Ant could see that Dr. Beetle Bug and the Bumblebee must have been full of fun in their youth.

All things come to an end, and some come to an end too soon. This little visit at Clover Lodge was one of the good things that ended sooner than the Ant could have wished. But Bumblebees have to get home before dark, and it was a long air trip the nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee had to take to reach his.

“I’d stay here all night if I were you,” he said to Anthony Ant. “It won’t cost you a thing. You will find plenty of honey in the clover cupboards, and all these cakes and things are paid for, so take what are left with you in the morning. Good luck to you! Some day I’m coming to Ant-Hill Manor to hear how things turned out with you. You tell Doctor Alec to take a trip over my way some day, and I’ll let him feel my pulse, ha, ha! Tell him to come over to hear my latest jokes. Good-by, lad!” And off he went.

Ah, but the Ant did not like to see the sun go down that night! Clover Lodge was so lonely and cold and blue without that nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee. The sun set in a glow, but it made him feel only more lonely, and all his sore spots seemed to ache. What if that jumpy Spider should crawl up Clover Lodge’s ladderway in the night and grab him! Oh, if only the nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee would come back!

Once asleep, poor Anthony Ant had bad dreams. He woke in a fright, and in the soft moonlight saw all kinds of things coming after him, or thought he saw them, which was just as bad. One shadow looked like the jumpy Spider--so much so, that he sat right up and screamed!

Then all at once he thought of his pass. He took it from the basket where he had stowed it away, and set it up where he could see it in the moonlight and where everything else that might come to harm him would see it. It looked almost Japanese in the moonlight.

Then he fell asleep again and dreamed a Japanese dream of cherry blossoms, and wind bells, and incense, and storks, and funny bridges, and a pale blue mountain, and plum trees, and all that sort of thing. It was such a lovely dream that it woke him up as wide awake as the bad dream had. But there was a difference now. He was not the least afraid, but he thought hard.

Now, as he thought, the night wind blew, and the stars twinkled, and the grasses swayed, and the Crickets not too tired to crick did it, and the soft moonlight kept on shining. It was all like a poem--rather solemn, and rather happy, and rather lumpy-in-the-throat--of the good, cheerful sort that made you want to cry or laugh, or a little of each without knowing whether you were happy or sad. Anyway, with a shout of joy, suddenly Anthony Ant felt the last part of the cure of Dr. Alexander Beetle Bug’s prescription take hold. He was cured! No more change for Anthony Ant! He had had all he wanted. He _knew_, for he asked himself all the questions the Firefly had told him that would help him know whether or not the cure was finished, and there was no doubt about the matter any more. Did Anthony Ant want to work? He _did_! Was he lonesome without his mother and the others? He _was_! Did he wish his mother was here nights when he was scared? Yes, he _did_, pass or no pass! Moreover, if another large, weepy sort of lump should rise in his throat, he felt he never could swallow it as he had managed to swallow the others. He would have to choke out loud! He would go right back home in the morning! He no longer needed any Firefly to tell whether or not the cure was finished. At last he himself just _knew_!

So he tucked himself up once more, slept the remainder of the night in peace, and finished that lovely Japanese dream.

WHAT THE YELLOWBIRD SAID

Now in the morning, as we know, things look very different. What people make up their minds in the night to do the next day, they sometimes do not carry out at all. But with Anthony Ant this was not so. He was more than ever sure the right thing to do was to go back home. The more he thought of it, the surer he was.

“I’d better not be in too much of a hurry to start, after all,” he thought. “Mercy, me! Here I was, nearly running off without eating a mouthful or taking any of this good food to help me along!”

He found that some one must have been there after all while he was yet dreaming. He must have slept very late, indeed. So he had, for before the sun had wakened him that mischievous, nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee came to Clover Lodge and played a trick--a fine, good trick. He packed Anthony Ant’s lunch basket full of the most nourishing food there was to be had at Clover Lodge, and the little jar that had held the Wild-Rose Tea House cheese was now full to the brim with the sweetest Clover Lodge honey. Then, someway or other, there was a steaming pot of Clover coffee and clover pancakes piping hot, ready to be eaten with some of the Clover Lodge honey on them.

The reason for all this was that, out of curiosity, the nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee had come back. By the teardrops on the cheeks of Anthony Ant, who did not know himself that he had cried in his sleep, and by the way the little Ant looked, the wise, nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee knew what Anthony Ant had made up his mind to do. So he flew about doing the fine, good trick hard and fast, and then went about his business, knowing right well that it would not be long before Ant-Hill Manor would be having back again one of its very best workers.

You know how hard it is to eat your breakfast Christmas morning when your presents are waiting to be opened? Well, sir, that’s just the way it was with Anthony Ant trying to eat his breakfast this morning. As good as the breakfast was, it seemed as though it was the hardest work to swallow a mouthful, he was so crazy to be off to the left on his journey home. But he made himself eat the cakes and honey and drink the steaming, good clover coffee. Then he reached for his basket to pack, and how surprised he was to find it packed! He never would have known who had played this fine, good trick on him if it had not been for something scrawled on a leaf in a sort of buzzling handwriting, and the something said, in the slang language sometimes used by such a person as the wise, nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee, “Go _to_ it!” And it was signed just “B.”

[Illustration: _Something was scrawled on the leaf in a sort of buzzling handwriting_]

Whether that meant go to the eating of the lunch or to the carrying out of the home trip, Anthony Ant did not stop to figure out. He just gave a gulp of joy at the thought of such a kind, thoughtful friend as the nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee had been in his deeds, and, after a look about to see that hat, case, and basket were gathered together, he took them and started on the homeward way.

It was pleasant going too. The roughnesses were not so rough, and the smoothnesses were smoother. Why, he did not even have to think which way was right and which was left! It was as though a magnet kept drawing him but one way, and he knew that pulling feeling he had was the Ant-Hill Manor direction drawing him home.

Anthony Ant steered clear of the spot where he knew the jumpy Spider had nearly caught him for keeps. Not once did he take his eye off the track ahead to be sure no other jumpy Spider was ready to pounce upon him.

No jumpy Spider pounced upon him, but there was one very exciting Ant Venture yet. It happened at the top of the tallest thistle in the field. Anthony Ant had climbed it to get a good view of the land before he traveled too far over what might be the hardest part of the field. Sometimes it saves time, you know, to take time. So sometimes it saves time, in traveling, to take time to go a bit out of your way to have a look at the general path ahead as far as you can see.

Up went the Ant along the thistle stem, and he did not mind the thorns the least bit. He went around them and between them, and had no trouble getting to the top at last. He climbed over the top of the cluster of blossom heads. There were a few buds not yet opened, and a few blossoms quite opened, and a very few that had grown so old that their hair had turned white and was ready to fly away.

He was sitting on one of the fat little buds, where he could see over the heads of the grasses and low weeds, when all at once something flew down so near Anthony that the whirring of the wings nearly made him lose his balance. He dodged back between this bud and the next one where the something with wings could not get him. My, what an exciting world this was!

The thing with whirring wings that came to a stop near him was a little Yellowbird with black on his tail and wings. He was not after Ants at all, but after the seeds he knew were under the whiteheaded old blossoms. He busily pulled off the fluff which flew away into the summer air, and then he dug out the small seeds which were young and juicy and sweet, as they were not yet ripe and too hard.

Anthony thought it safe to speak to the bird, so he said, “O sir, would you mind telling me if there are any jumpy Spiders in this way to the left I am taking toward the brook?”

“Yes,” answered the Yellowbird. “There are lots of them.”

“Oh, my!” said poor Anthony Ant. “I was caught by one once, and nearly lost my life. What shall I do to escape them?”

“Ho!” replied the Yellowbird. “I should not mind them if I were you. I never do.”

“Yes, but you are big and can eat them up if you want to, and they are afraid of you,” said Anthony. “But, you see, I am so small they can eat me without a bit of trouble, and what to do, I cannot tell.”

“Where are you going?” asked the Yellowbird. “Are you running away from home? All the other Ants I have met this morning were busy at work. You are the only one I have seen doing nothing but sitting still.”

Anthony told him all about things, and the Yellowbird said, “Oh, well, then, I’ll help you. First of all, be on the watch for the webs, of course, and then steer clear of them. But if a jumpy Spider darts out at you from behind something where he has been hiding, just say my name three times to him in a loud voice, and he will run and hide. For if he thinks I am around he will hide himself, and if he knows you are my friend he won’t meddle with you. Now, good luck to you, and go home at once. You will find a straight-ahead road or course through this field. Keeping always to the left, as you now are, will bring you to the brook in time, and then you will know where you are.”

“Thank you so much!” said Anthony Ant, and took off his hat to bow politely.

You know little Yellowbirds like this one say something every time they dip their wings in flying across a field. Well, this little Yellowbird flew away soon, and as he flew he said out of real joy at finding Anthony Ant going back to Ant-Hill Manor: “Back home again! Back home again! Back home again!” every time he dipped his wings.

THE TWO TRICKS

Yes, sir, it was exactly as the Yellowbird had said, as Anthony Ant found as he went away from the thistle and on through the tall, thick grass with his face set toward the left. Everyone was working. Not a Bug, nor a Beetle, nor a Worm, nor a Caterpillar, nor anything whatever at all had time to more than nod at him as he passed through the busy field world. They were all digging, or hunting, or building, or getting meals, or something of that kind all along the way. The farther he went, the more he thought how fine a thing it would be to get at that little wheelbarrow of his again.

By and by, as he was crawling along over a blade and under a blade, and on the ground, and up a weed to a bridge across to another weed, and down that weed, he came plump out over a monstrous new web of a monstrous jumpy Spider. There, sir, was the jumpy Spider’s head poking out of the cave house at the back of the web. Anthony Ant was so high above the web that he was as safe as could be, but he saw at once that it would not do for him to go down that weed. It would land him right on the monstrous jumpy Spider’s web, and that would be an end of Master Anthony Ant.

“Oh, ho!” said he. “I’m pretty glad to be up here instead of any nearer.”

Just for fun he played a trick on the monstrous jumpy Spider. He bit off a small piece of leaf and dropped it down upon the web veranda. You ought to have seen how fast that Spider pounced upon the bit of leaf! Although Anthony Ant was so safe, he had to shiver to think how he would have felt in the place of the leaf. Then the monstrous jumpy Spider, looking up, saw Anthony Ant, and began to dance up and down on the web veranda in a great rage.

[Illustration: _The monstrous jumpy Spider, looking up, saw Anthony Ant, and began to dance up and down in a great rage_]

“What do you mean, you villain, you!” cried the old Spider. “You young scoundrel! Let me get at you once and I’ll show you!”