Journeys of Johnny Jackrabbit

Contents

Chapteb Page

I A Disagkeeable Day 1

II The Sahd-Stokm 22

Chapter I A Disagreeable Day

AGAIN we meet our friend, Johnny Jackrabbit, — not the lonely, frightened little fellow we found at the beginning of Adventures of Johnny Jackrabbit; but a full-grown, healthy, happy Johnny who has met, or avoided, so many of his neighbors that he has grown quite confident of his ability to take care of himself.

Johnny Jackrabbit started, in a cheerful frame of mind, on one of his delightful little journeys; but, after 1 a call on Cousin Jenny, he began to look worried, and to hop about uneasily. Jenny was usually a very cheerful companion; and the conversation had started pleasantly. Johnny listened while she told how Pirate the Great Hawk had carried off one Squirrel after another until two whole families had been exterminated. That was news; and Johnny always enjoyed hearing the news, — as does any wide-awake Jackrabbit.

“And,” continued Jenny, “we shall feel their loss greatly; for they added much to our social life. Of course you know they were descendants of Christopher Adolphus Squirrel, — one of the first to settle on this part of the Desert.”

So far, Johnny agreed; but she continued: “Johnny, you ought to think of some way to rid the Mesa of Pirate and that last brood of hers.”

Right there, Johnny Jackrabbit began to feel uneasy; but he only shook his head, wiggled his nose, cocked his ears at different angles, and seemed lost in deep thought; while Cousin Jenny watched him in admiration, — for Johnny could assume a look of great wisdom.

Finally he stood up and looked across to where Pirate, perched on a tall mesquite tree, waited silently for another Ground Squirrel to appear. After looking at Pirate with a long, steady gaze, Johnny dropped back on all four feet, and said: “Really,

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Cousin, I have never before given Pirate much serious thought; and you must admit that your idea is a new one. As you know, our family never has been war-like. In fact, we have always trusted to strong legs, rather than strong claws, sharp teeth, and loud voices.”

“But, Johnny, surely you can think of some way!” persisted Cousin Jenny.

“Now, Cousin,” interrupted Johnny, “I really must take some time to think this matter over, and observe the habits of Pirate more closely. Good-by for to-day! When I see you again, I shall let you know what I decide to do.”

Johnny said the last words over his

JOHNNY JACKEABBIT 5

shoulder as he turned away. He hurried until he was well out of sight of J enny. Then he sat down in the shade of a cactus, looked carefully about him, and drew a long breath.

“Why can’t she let me alone!” he grumbled. “I didn’t make the Desert nor the People who live on it. I am going over to see Jolly and Speedy Squirrel. They won’t bother a fellow.”

But when he reached Squirrel Knoll, he found Jolly and Speedy greatly excited. They were sitting just outside their door, and both were talking at once. When Johnny heard them, he stopped, and was about to creep back among the bushes when Jolly spied him and called:

“Oh, Johnny, you are just the one we were wishing- to see. Of course you’ve heard what Pirate has done?”

Johnny immediately saw that he had made a mistake in coming to Squirrel Knoll seeking peace and quiet.

“You see we are all descendants of Christopher Adolphus Squirrel, — one of the Earliest Settlers on this part of the Desert,” explained Speedy, drawing herself up proudly.

“How did that Ancestor of yours happen to come here to make a home?” inquired Johnny hastily, fearing that either Jolly or Speedy would suggest that he rid the Mesa of Pirate. “I’ll keep them talking of this

Christopher Adolphus,” thought Johnny wisely.

“Why, bless my whiskers!” gasped Jolly.

“Don’t you know the history of the Desert Ground Squirrel Family?” cried Speedy.

“No, Speedy,” said Johnny meekly, “no one ever told it to me.”

“Well! Well!” murmured Jolly.

“Every one ought to know at least that part of our history,” said Speedy. “Now, of course, all that I am about to tell you happened many, many years ago. At that time, our Ancestors lived away to the southeast of the Mesa, in a broad, level Valley, that my Great-Great-Grandmother used to tell me was covered with high, thick grass; and their home was under tall trees beside a River.”

“Where is that Valley?” inquired Johnny, becoming quite interested. “I’d like to take a run down to it, and eat some of the grass.”

“As I said, it was a very great distance from here,” said Speedy primly. “Of course, as my Great-Great- Grandmother said, one might think that the grass, the trees, and the River would have made it just the right kind of a place for Ground Squirrels to live in; but those were the very reasons why the Squirrels who lived there were so uncomfortable. They never felt safe for one minute; and you see they could not be happy when they were always in danger.”

“What was there to frighten them?” asked Johnny Jackrabbit. “Didn’t they dig into the ground, just as you and all of your relatives do on the Mesa?”

“Of course. They dug long, deep tunnels, just as all Ground Squirrels do,” cried Jolly.

“Now don’t interrupt, and I’ll tell you why they were never safe in that beautiful Valley,” said Speedy, impatiently. “Many Birds came to the River to drink, and a great many of them remained, and made their nests in the grass, or in the tree-tops. The Coyotes and Foxes came to drink, and to catch an occasional Bird. The

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Great Bob Cats came down to the stream, and some of them liked the trees so well that they stayed, sleeping and spending the most of their time there. Then there were the Badgers, Raccoons, and Skunks.” Speedy stopped for breath.

“Now, Johnny Jackrabbit, don’t you see what an awful place that was?” cried Jolly. “Besides all those Creatures that Speedy has spoken of, there were the great King Snakes that might glide into one’s home at any moment, and devour all the little Ground Squirrels, and any grown ones that could not get away quickly.”

“You see,” resumed Speedy, “with Coyotes, Foxes, Badgers, Raccoons, Skunks, Bob Cats, King Snakes — ”

“And big Hawks, and Owls!” cried Jolly.

“Oh, yes,” said Speedy, “many Hawks and Owls came there to live, or just to perch in the trees; and every one of all those Creatures was on the watch for the poor Ground Squirrels. In fact the Squirrels were watched so closely, and were so frightened that it was a long time before they dared to get together, and talk their troubles over, and form some plan to prevent the great Birds and Beasts from devouring them all.

“At last, when he could not stand it any longer, Christopher Adolphus Squirrel, one of the largest Ground Squirrels along the River, at great risk of his life, went from house to house, and asked all his near neighbors to come to a meeting at his home the next day. When the day came, many Squirrels reached his home safely; but, on their way, several were caught by Hawks and other Enemies.

“At the meeting, it was decided to leave the Valley, and go away to a safer place, — if such a place could be found; and, because Christopher Adolphus was trusted by all who knew him, they decided that he must find a suitable place, and that they would follow where he led them.

“The day after the meeting, Christopher Adolphus started out very early, and was gone so long that, when he did return, his friends and relatives had given him up for dead.

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“Then there was great hurrying and scurrying from door to door to spread the good news, — ^that Christopher Adolphus had found the very place for a safe home for his remaining neighbors. Not many days later, Mr. Badger and the Great Hawks watched and watched in vain near the old Squirrel homes. And while they watched, out beyond the trees and the tall grass, on the sloping side of the Mesa, five families of Ground Squirrels worked from daylight until dark to complete their new homes.”

“I thought you said they settled on the Mesa!” cried Johnny Jackrabbit, when Speedy again paused for breath.

“I did! I did! I’m coming to that!”

answered Speedy, impatiently. “They made homes, and stayed many months on the steep, sloping side of the Mesa; but, although fewer of their Enemies found them during that time, they were far from safe even there, because many Animals, going to and from the River, passed that way, and every few days one of the Squirrels was missed, and never seen again. Finally, Christopher Adolphus found a much safer place some distance back on the Mesa; and again the little colony moved.

“From that time, our People have spread clear across the high, dry ground, where the trees are low and far apart, and the grass is short. Here we have a good chance to see an

Enemy, and to run into our homes before he is upon us.

“Christopher Adolphus was a very wise Squirrel,” concluded Speedy; “but he was finally killed by a Hawk, — probably a relative of this Pirate.”

Johnny did not remain long on the Knoll, after Speedy had finished her story. “It is too warm to listen to tales of troubles,” he muttered. “Why, until two hours ago, this day was perfect; but now, even the Sun has blood in his eye; and I’ll bet we have a big wind before night.”

Johnny found an interesting place in the shade of a low bush, and there he stretched out on the warm sand. As the day advanced, the air grew hotter and hotter; and he gave himself up to the Drowsy Spirit that brooded over the Desert, and lay dozing in the shadow.

Sometime late in the afternoon, he was aroused by the loud voices of the Hawk family, at their home of sticks in the top of the Great Sahuaro. Johnny sat up quickly.

“Ah-ha!” he thought, “Old Pirate has got tired of feeding those ravenous Children of hers.”

“Come over here!” commanded Pirate, in her harsh voice, from her perch on a tall bush near the Sahuaro. “You can fly if you will do as I tell you to. Jim, you are the largest; you must be the first to try your wings.”

The other Hawks stood watching Jim closely. They had all passed the

Jolly and Speedy Squirrel age when a young Hawk sits on his elbows, and uses his bony wings to support himself on either side. For many days, they had been spreading and flapping their big wings in the hot sunshine.

Now, all together, the four raised on their feet, with their great wings spread and stretched high above their heads. Johnny looked toward Pirate, and saw that she, too, was standing in the same position, with her great wings spread, and held high above her. As he looked. Pirate flapped her wings; and the Children flapped theirs— at first moving them slowly, then faster and faster until Johnny could hear their beating on the air.

Then all was still, and the Hawks sat with wings spread in the sunshine. The hotter the Sun heats on a Hawk’s unprotected head, the better he seems to like it.

“Now, Jim,” called Pirate, “fly to me, or I shall not feed you another Rabbit.”

And, while his Mother threatened, and his Brothers shamed him, Jim sprang out from the nest, and, flapping frantically, alighted, not on the tall bush beside his Mother, but on a low bush some distance from the Sahuaro. With loud rejoicing. Pirate left her perch and flew high into the air, circling over her Children. Finally, she tipped, shot straight downward, and alighted softly on the very limb she started from.

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“And that is the family Cousin Jenny wants me to get rid of!” muttered Johnny, turning quietly to hop out of sight under the greasewood. “In a few days, that whole flock will be out here hunting Rabbits.”

When the copper Sun hangs far up in the Sky, few Creatures willingly leave the thin shade of the desert trees and bushes; but Johnny Jackrabbit, whose delight it was to pass such hot afternoons lying flat in the deepest shade he could And, hurried frantically eastward, keeping close to the bushes.

“I shall keep out of Cousin Jenny’s way,” he thought, “until those Hawks have left their home, and have scattered over the Desert.”

“Now what can be the trouble with Johnny Jackrabbit?” asked a little Inca Dove of her mate when they saw Johnny hurrying along over the hot ground.

“I’d like to know; but it is too hot to follow him,” cooed Mr. Inca Dove, from his perch in a shady bush. “Rabbits are very, silly things, and often get excited at nothing at all. I don’t believe there is another Creature moving at this hour.”

“My dear, you have been asleep, or you would have heard Pirate and her family screaming at one another a while ago,” said Mrs. Inca Dove. “Do you suppose they frightened Johnny?”

“No,” answered her mate more firmly than usual, “and I don’t intend to have my midday nap spoiled by a long-legged Jackrabbit, who goes tearing by in the heat. Now let’s go to sleep again.”

By the time he had stopped talking, Mr. Inca Dove’s dainty little gray head was nodding; and, after watching closely for a while, and not seeing or hearing anything but swaying bushes, Mrs. Inca Dove dozed; and Johnny Jackrabbit was forgotten.

Chapter II The Sand-storm

JOHNNY JACKRABBIT had started early one morning, and was far from his usual haunts when the hottest hours overtook him. Then he crept slowly into the shade of a mesquite, one of the largest trees on the Mesa, and stretched out, with his big ears lying back along his neck and shoulders, and his strong back legs in position to start him forward with a long jump should an Enemy come suddenly upon him.

For more than an hour, the air had been filled with that peculiar quality that all, who live on the Desert, recog- 22 nize as a warning that a great Sand- Storm is approaching.

Johnny had not enjoyed his food that day, because the long weeks of drought had shriveled the young growth. Indeed, he had, for some time, been growing very thin, and did not have an extra ounce of fat on his whole body; but his muscles were strong, because he had spent many, long, weary hours searching for food, — and strong muscles were something Johnny Jackrabbit was proud to possess.

As the day advanced, the air became so dry that Johnny lay with his eyes closed. A breathless calm, such as goes before a storm, hung over the Mesa; and the air was so full of electricity that every hair on Johnny’s body was ready to crackle at the slightest touch.

“On such days as this,” he remarked to Mrs. Horned Toad, who scurried into the shade beside him, “I feel sorry that my Ancestors chose to live on the Desert.”

“You are very foolish,” declared Mrs. Horned Toad. “Except for an occasional Sand-Storm, I’d like to know where you could find another such warm, healthful climate. Now tell me: did you ever hear of a Horned Toad or a Jackrabbit, or a Lizard that had a weakness in his lungs or his liver?”

Johnny could not say that he had. But that did not keep the sand out of his eyes; and he ventured to remark that he believed it quite as necessary for a Jackrabbit to have the use of his eyes, as his lungs or his liver.

“Since you are in such a bad humor, Fll not remain under the same tree with you,” declared Mrs. Homed Toad, flirting the sand as she hastily moved away to lie in a bunch of grass, leaving Johnny to doze as best he could for the heat and dust.

The Storm was approaching from the southeast; and it was not long until the air was fllled with particles of sand and dust, through which the Sun shone dimly, casting a weird yellow light over everything; and a sound that, at first, was a low whisper, became a distant roar of wind.

At a sudden movement of Mrs. Homed Toad, Johnny opened his eyes. He gave just one startled glance, sprang from under the mesquite tree, and bounded away through the bushes, followed closely by Slippery the Coyote.

Aided by the noise of the on-coming Storm, Slippery had crept so close that in one jump he could have reached Johnny.

Just at first, Johnny sprang wildly; but he soon got his stride and headed straight into the Storm. He was going rapidly, paying close attention to Slippery, when another Coyote sprang out from behind a bush, and almost caught Johnny.

When the second Coyote appeared.

Johnny bounded yards to one side,, and settled down to a race for life. So long' as the race was between him and Slippery, it bade fair to be interesting, although it came at a bad time; but, with the Storm in his face and two Coyotes behind him, Johnny felt that those were the most serious moments of his life.

A Coyote is no mean hunter; but, when Johnny Jackrabbit settled down to business, — taking the long jumps for which he is famous, — ^the Coyotes soon became confused. Because the air was so full of sand, there were times that they could not see Johnny; and because the wind blew; so hard, they could not follow his scent. Usually he went straight ahead; but there were times when he jumped many feet aside; and then Slippery and his mate lost valuable time before they could locate him again.

It was only the middle of the afternoon; but the thick clouds of dust and sand obscured the Sun until it was almost as dark as night; and the wind swept across the Desert, twisting and lashing the bushes until it seemed that they must be torn out of the ground.

Still, Johnny Jackrabbit managed to keep moving, because he knew that the Coyotes would overtake him if he stopped. When the wind blew the hardest, and he could gain but a few; inches at a time, he knew that it was making it hard for the Coyotes; and when the sand blew into his eyes, and blinded him, he trusted that the Coyotes could see no better than he.

Not until he reached the foot of bare Rocky Ridge, did Johnny stop. Then he crouched low, and tried to distinguish some familiar object; but, in the strange light, even the low brush, thrashing from side to side, looked weird and fearful. He could not see ten feet in any direction; and already the crash and roar of a Thunder-Storm, such as follows right on the heels of a Sand-Storm, seemed to shake the ground.

“I’ve got to find a place where I can hide until this is over,” sobbed Johnny, creeping along the Ridge, feeling for a shelter. “I must crawl up among the rocks. There isn’t any other way. Oh, dear!” he cried, when a fierce gust almost tore him out of the rough little crevice into which he had started to climb.

He managed to keep from being swept off from the rocks; and, in a lull, he gained a narrow shelf just as the first great drops of rain began to fall.

Creeping along, he found a hole leading back some distance. Nothing in Johnny’s life had been more welcome than the jagged entrance to that dark hole! In he crept, shaking his long ears to rid them of rain and sand. The hole ran back a long way; but, after a few feet, it became so narrow that he could not go any farther. He sank down thankfully, and tried to close his poor smarting eyes, and forget the stinging scratches he had received from a cruel crucifixion thorn that he had stumbled against in his fiight.

For hours he could see the constant flare of Lightning, and hear the crash and roar of the heavy Thunder. Then all became quiet; and he went right to sleep.

It was morning before Johnny Jackrabbit squeezed through the small hole, and sat on the rocks outside. The Coyotes had driven him far from his usual haunts; and, from where he sat on Rocky Ridge, he looked down on a part of the Desert that was well covered with large mesquite trees; not far away, he saw a number of tall cottonwood trees, and beyond them, the glint of running water. The rain had laid the dust and washed the air so clean that every object stood out distinctly.

While he sat listening, the Sun peeped over the distant Mountains, and began to peer into every nook and crevice. The Desert Sun is very thorough, and never fails to look into a place because it has searched it well the day before.

During the Sand-Storm, not a Bird could be seen. They had found shelter in all sorts of odd places, — in crevices in rocks; in holes beneath old twisted roots; in holes that the Woodpeckers had made in trees and in sahuaros; and on partly protected limbs. Now they appeared on all sides, and went singing and flitting about among the freshly washed branches.

Everjdhing around him was beautiful; but Johnny felt a longing to be back on familiar ground; and when he left Rocky Ridge, instead of turning toward the tall trees and the water, he hopped back toward the Mesa.

The grass on the Lowland was not yet as dry as that on the Mesa; so he paused here and there to nibble as he went along; and, before evening, he came to a well-kown path.

“Why, Johnny Jackrabbit!” cried a familiar voice; and he turned to And his friend Fleetfoot sitting near by. “I met Mrs. Horned Toad, and she told me that the last time she saw you, two big Coyotes were chasing you. She felt sure that you would never again be seen on the Mesa!”

Johnny told Fleetfoot about the hard time he had had, and showed her the long scratches on his side, and his eyes that were still red from the sand. After hearing all about his adventure, Fleetfoot said, “Well, I don’t see why you didn’t stay down there and explore the country. Did you say there were trees near Rocky Ridge?”

“Yes; there were tall trees down there, Fleetfoot,” he told her, “and some of them were not like any we have here on the Mesa. They were covered with beautiful, shiny leaves that trembled and rustled in the breeze; and I distinctly saw water flowing beyond them. I must have been homesick to have come away so soon.”

“I’ll go right back with you!” cried Fleetfoot eagerly. “Let’s start now!”

Johnny thought a moment; then he shook his head, saying that, since he had returned, he must attend to some very important business; and they parted, agreeing to make a trip to Rocky Ridge at the earliest possible date.

Chapter III The Journey To Rocky Ridge

WHEN Johnny Jackrabbit first returned to old friends and familiar places, he thought that, after a few days, he would go back to Rocky Ridge and explore the surrounding Desert. Many times a day, he thought of the tall trees with their shining, green leaves that shook and trembled in the wind, and the soft grass that was sweeter than the stiff bunch grass that grew on the Mesa. But time has a way of passing quickly, even on the Desert; and one week followed another until Summer had chang’ed to Fall, and Fall had almost turned to Winter.

Finally the right sort of a day arrived: cool winds swept over the Mesa; and an occasional cloud scudded across the sky. Such days make Rabbits restless; and Johnny Jackrabbit felt ready for an adventure when, hopping along a well-worn path, he met Fleetfoot, one of the very handsomest Jackrabbits on the Mesa.

The wind whisked the bushes about, sending dry leaves pattering across the paths; and, for the pure delight they found in moving, Johnny and Fleetfoot scampered about, shaking their long ears, hopping and kicking. They even pretended to be afraid of a big round weed that came rolling and bumping toward them across a bare, wind-swept space. Johnny sat up and viewed it with mock horror, then fled through the bushes, followed by Fleetfoot, who did some fancy jumping.

They were racing joyfully along, without a thought of anything unpleasant, when they dashed around a large bush, and came face to face with two great, rusty-black Turkey Buzzards that stood on the ground, quarreling over a dead Snake.

The Jackrabbits were not really afraid of the Buzzards, because a Buzzard is either too cowardly or too lazy to kill his prey, and will not molest a living Creature. Mother Nature gave him great size and strength, the beak of a fierce Eagle, and talons that could strike death to a good-sized Animal or Bird; but the Buzzard prefers to wait and watch from a great height. By and by he discovers a dead Creature, and settles down beside it; and when he leaves it, there is nothing, except carefully picked bones, to mark the place where it died.

When the Turkey Buzzard is sailing high in the sky, he is a stately Bird, and is one of the best of fliers; but on the ground,— especially if he is feeding, — ^he is one of the most repulsive of Creatures.

When those two Buzzards saw the Jackrabbits coming, they hastily spread their great, dirty-looking wings, and flew away; and Johnny and Fleetfoot cleared the Snake with a bound, and fled on through the bushes.

“Ugh! How I detest Buzzards! And the sight of a Snake always makes me shiver!” cried Fleetfoot, racing along behind Johnny.

“Then let’s forget all about them,” said Johnny. “I’ve got the very plan ! Let’s go to Rocky Ridge to-day.” And Johnny’s eyes began to shine at the prospect.

“Rocky Ridge, to-day?” asked Fleetfoot, stopping short to consider.

“Now don’t sit down there and think about it,” advised Johnny, going back to her. “If we really mean to go, we can’t find a better day.”

“What a reckless disposition!” laughed Fleetfoot. “If you always decide matters as quickly as this, I should think you would have been caught months ago. But run along, and I will follow you. I really want to see that wonderful Ridge, and the hole where you hid during the Sand- Storm.”

With that, they hurried away, starting and shying at the swaying branches. They even amused themselves racing across bleak stretches of tan colored grass, and scattering flocks of Sparrows.

“Johnny, do stop!” called Fleetfoot. “Here are some mesquite beans.”

“Delicious!” murmured Johnny, nibbling- busily at the largest one he could find.

“This cool wind makes me as hungry as a Hawk,” remarked Fleetfoot, selecting a fine bean.

“Or a Buzzard!” suggested Johnny, slyly.

“Bah!” Fleetfoot dropped the bean she was eating, and fied.

Farther on, Johnny called: “Oh, Fleetfoot! Right here, under this bush, is where I lay half asleep when Slippery stole upon me. If Mrs. Horned Toad had not awakened me, when she saw him and ran for cover, all would have been over for Johnny Jackrabbit.”

“Come, Johnny, don’t be so solemn!

Slippery didn’t catch you; so what’s the use of thinking about what he might have done? I’d like to see the Coyote that can outrun one of us big Jackrabbits!”

“I felt just as you do about being able to get away from one Coyote; but right over there, is where his mate sprang at me from behind the bushes. From there on, I had to reckon with two Coyotes; and, if it hadn’t been for the Storm, I am not at all sure but they would have caught me.^’

“I thought this was to be a pleasure trip,” complained Fleetfoot. “If you don’t stop being so doleful, I’ll go home.”

Johnny looked at his companion and laughed merrily. “You are right, Fleetfoot! Come! I’ll race you to that little bush!” And away they ran.

A twig snapped! The Jackrabbits stopped suddenly; and once more life was serious — even for Fleetfoot. Crouching low, they saw Shadow the Gray Fox slipping away under the brush, with a Bird in his mouth.

“I hope he didn’t see us!” whispered Johnny. “Let’s make for the Ridge.”

A few high jumps showed them Rocky Ridge not far away; and, without seeing Shadow again, they reached the Ridge, and climbed up to the hole in the rocks.

Late in the afternoon, when the soft “hoo-hoo'-hoo-hoo'-hoo” of the

White Wing Dove came up from the trees, and the “coo'-coo-coo” of the Sonora Dove floated across the Lowland, Johnny and Fleetfoot hopped down from the Ridge, and started cautiously toward the tall trees.

Back on the Mesa, there were many tall cacti; but the mesquite, palo verde, and other bushes were small and twisted. Down on the Lowland, there were fewer and smaller cacti; but the mesquite and palo verde trees were large, and beyond them was the River, with tall desert willows and a straggling line of cottonwood trees on each bank.

Being on strange ground, the Jackrabbits hopped cautiously along, and entered the willows. Their Keen noses scented water long before they reached the bank of the River.