Lobo, Rag and Vixen / Being The Personal Histories Of Lobo, Redruff, Raggylug & Vixen

m with some of the bedding, and, as always, her last warning was to 'lay low and say nothing, whatever happens.' Though tuck

e of their fight; a yellow warbler caught a blue butterfly but six inches from his nose, and a scarlet and black ladybug, serenely waving her kn

he screamed, i

here was no patter of feet with it. Rag had lived his whole life in the swamp (he was three weeks old) and yet had never heard anything like this. Of course his curiosity wa

rn what it was. He slowly raised his roly-poly body on his short, fluffy legs, lifted his little round head above the covering of his nest and peeped out into the woods.

his tiny limbs he tried to run. But in a flash the Snake had him by one ear and whipped aro

rrow came Mammy. No longer a shy, helpless little Molly Cottontail, ready to fly from a shadow: the mother's love was strong in her. The cry of her baby had filled her with the courage of a hero,

loathsome reptile let go the little one's ear and tried to bite the old one as she leaped over. But all he got was a mouthf

ld on Baby Bunny, who at once wriggled out of the coils and away into the underbrush, breathless and ter

r revenge. Away she went into the woods and the little one followed the shinin