In one corner of the larger box Larry and Alice had set a smaller box, with wooden sides and a wooden top. There was a square hole for a door in this smaller box, and this was Winkie’s bedroom.
“You’re safe here now, little woodchuck!” said Larry. “I’m going to feed you and then teach you tricks when you get tame.”
“Maybe she wants a drink of water,” suggested Alice.
“Yes, I guess she does,” said Larry. “I’ll get some for her.”
When a basin of water was set down inside the pen the woodchuck was so thirsty that she began to drink at once. The boy and girl laughed to see her drink.
“She’s getting tame already,” said Alice.
“Well, sort of beginning,” agreed Larry. “Now I’ll get her something to eat. But I guess I’d better bait that trap with something besides carrot if I want to catch a skunk. I guess skunks don’t like carrots, for none has come near the trap since I set it.”
Larry was right. Skunks are not carrot-eating animals, though they may take a nibble now and then if they are very hungry.
The children had started to get something for Winkie to eat when, all at once, there came a noise which was a dreadful sound to the ground-hog.
Though Winkie had never been very close to any dog except Don, the wily woodchuck knew the bark of this dog meant danger. It is this way with many wild animals, and even with your cat, perhaps, which is not so wild as a woodchuck.
Little kittens, if they are brought up with dogs from their earliest days, may not be afraid of Rover or Towser, whom they know. But they may be afraid of a strange dog. However, almost any cat will arch up its back, hiss and, if it gets a chance, will run away from almost any dog. It was the same with Winkie, though she did not arch her back nor fluff out her tail――woodchucks don’t do that. But Winkie tried to run away as soon as she heard the bark of the dog.
Only she could not get out of the pen. But she did run and hide in her sleeping box, which was partly filled with hay.
“Oh, here comes Buster!” exclaimed Alice. “Don’t let Buster get the woodchuck!”
“No, indeed!” cried Larry. “Uncle Elias’s dog shan’t get my woodchuck!”
“I thought you said she was part _my_ woodchuck,” observed Alice.
“Yes, that’s so. You may have half,” agreed Larry. “Go on back, Buster! Go away!” shouted Larry, as a big dog came bounding into the yard, barking and wagging his tail, for he was glad to see the children, and often played with them, being a friendly dog except toward wild things.