Young Fredle - Louise Yates [45]
The raccoons woke him when they returned, noisily recounting their adventures of the evening to one another, boasting about taking a swat at an owl—“Thought I was some easy prey of a weasel but I showed him different!”—and facing down a rat—“They think they’re the only ones with any rights to the grain bins. Woo-Hah. They think they’ve got the only sharp teeth on the farm.”
“We brought a couple of corncobs,” Rimble told Fredle.
“He’s got a whole field of apples,” Rec objected.
“We share,” Rilf told them. “That’s how the Rowdy Boys do it. There’s enough for all of us, and besides, if ordinary mouse is tasty, a fat, corn-fed mouse will be even tastier.”
“Right you are, Cap’n,” they said.
“Actually, thank you, but I’m not hungry,” Fredle told them. They made him nervous. The idea of eating with them made him even more nervous.
“Woo-Hah,” they laughed.
“If you’d ever had corn,” Rec advised him, entirely serious, “you wouldn’t miss the chance to have it again.”
The raccoons weren’t ready to sleep. It wasn’t light yet and they were still excited by the night’s adventures.
“Those dogs never even suspected we were there.”
“I’d have brought you an egg,” Rilf told Fredle, “but they don’t transport well, too fragile. I’d have ended up with a mouthful of shell.”
“Ick-ko,” agreed Rimble.
“You are such a coonlet,” Rec said.
Rimble snapped at the big raccoon, teeth flashing. “I’ll show you coonlet and I’ll take off some of your fat while I’m at it.”
The two snarled at one another until Rad interrupted to report, “Things are looking promising in the garden, Cap’n. She’s planted lettuce, and the peas and peppers are already sprouted.”
“Rain tomorrow,” predicted Rilf. When the other raccoons groaned at the news, “Don’t be so soft,” he told them. “How do you feel about rain, young Fredle?”
“Young Inedible,” said Rec.
“Young Incredible,” added Rimble.
“Woo-Hah,” they laughed.
“I don’t mind rain. It means good drinking,” Fredle said.
“Who wants to have to live off rainwater? Not us.” The Rowdy Boys all agreed on this point. “We’ve got the stream and we’ve got the lake, too. When do we move to the lake, Cap’n? It’s warm enough, isn’t it? Winter’s well gone. Which do you think tastes better,” they asked one another, “fresh fish or fresh mouse?”
“When do we go up to the summer burrow, Cap’n?” they asked again, and more eagerly.
Once again, Fredle was distracted by something he couldn’t remember about that stream. The forgotten thing chittered like a chicken at the edge of his mind.
“The girls will be wanting to see us, and show off their coonlets.”
Rilf looked at Fredle and then at the Rowdy Boys. He looked up into the air and then back at Fredle. He was watching Fredle when he answered, “We’ll be there in time for the full moon.”
“Not long, then,” Rec observed, and he, too, looked at Fredle.
“I’m almost sorry,” said Rad, staring as well at the mouse in their midst.
Fredle guessed he knew what they were thinking of. “Me too,” he agreed.
“Woo-Hah,” they all laughed.
He didn’t join in.
13
The Moon’s Story
Fredle thought very carefully about the situation; he didn’t want to make mistakes because of being frightened, or hungry, or just plain impatient. The first thing he needed to know, if it was something that could be known, was: How long did he have before a full moon appeared in the night sky? As far as Fredle had seen, the different moons appeared