And then the old doctor would fume. “The Mink take them and their love-making, the silly young things! What’s the sense of disturbing the whole marsh just because they want everyone to know they’re old enough to dig a nursery? Eh?” He forgot that he’d done the very same thing in his own first spring.
But Nibble thought they were having a mighty good time over it all. Only he wished they wouldn’t leave quite so many tracks for Tommy Peele to find.
And the very next day there came Tommy, splashing through the big puddles in his tall rubber boots, sloshing through the last of the snowdrifts, and whistling a lively tune. And Nibble pricked up his ears to listen. Because he thought that maybe Tommy was on a spring wandering of his own, and this was his mating song. For he never dreamed that whole generations of bunnies and muskrats and piping birds would grow old and die before Tommy even thought of such a thing.
Tommy had on his blue sweater, but he’d left his red mittens hanging back of the stove because he’d got them all wet snowballing. And Watch was dancing along in front of him singing “Aourgh! aorugh!” which is neither a mating song nor a proper hunting song. It was like Tommy’s whistle—it showed that he was perfectly happy.
But Nibble wasn’t. He was awfully uncomfortable. For all the footprints of those foolish young beasts led straight to the warm spring, which was still the only open water, though the ice was soft and melting all over the pond. And you remember this was the wise old doctor’s front door.
Of course Tommy followed them right there. And Nibble crouched into a clump of bulrushes close behind him—close enough to hear him working over something; close enough to hear Watch saying in an excited tone, “It’s all right! I can smell ’em—lots of ’em!”
Nibble was so worried he nearly squirmed. He wanted to get out to the little round house in the middle of the pond and warn Doctor Muskrat. The minute Tommy’s back was turned he started to creep over the crumbly ice toward it. But Watch’s back wasn’t turned. He bounced out after Nibble. And he bounced right through the ice. And the minute Doctor Muskrat heard that splashing and thrashing right in his front pond, out he popped. “Clang!” That ugly trap had him by the paw!