Chapter 11

A SEARCH IN VAIN

It was true that Dickie Deer Mouse and all his relations feasted on the horns shed by the deer. But of course they didn't find horns in the woods every day. Only at a certain season of the year did the deer drop them. And since that time was now past, and the Deer Mouse family had scoured the woods until they found--and devoured--them all, it is clear that Fatty Coon had started out on a fruitless hunt.

But he didn't know that, even if Dickie Deer Mouse did. And that was the reason why Dickie smiled as he watched Fatty Coon dodging about among the trees, looking for deer's horns where there couldn't possibly be any.

"It's the finest thing that could happen to Fatty," Dickie Deer Mouse thought. "While he's hunting for horns he can't go to the cornfield. And so long as he stays away from the cornfield, old dog Spot can't catch him there."

And then Dickie set forth to find his friends and enjoy a romp in the moonlight.

Dawn found him creeping into his house once more. And after what had happened during the night it was not strange that he should dream about Fatty Coon.

It was not a pleasant dream. For some reason or other Fatty Coon seemed to be angry with him, and was shouting in a terrible, deep voice, "Where's Dickie Deer Mouse? Where's Dickie Deer Mouse?"

And then Dickie awoke, all a-shiver. But of course he felt better at once, for he knew that it was only a dream. And he stretched himself, and buried his head in his bed of cat-tail down, because the daylight was trickling in through his doorway.

"Where's Dickie Deer Mouse?" Again that question startled him, though he was wide awake, and couldn't be dreaming.

The next instant Dickie's tree began to quiver. Fatty Coon was climbing up it! And Dickie Deer Mouse jumped out of bed in a hurry and slipped out of his door.

Looking down, he could see that Fatty Coon was in something quite like a rage.

"What's the matter?" Dickie called to him.

Fatty could do nothing but glare and growl at him.

"Have you had your breakfast?" Dickie asked him.

Fatty shook his head.

"No!" he roared. "I haven't had a morsel to eat since I last saw you. I've been hunting for horns all this time. And I've come back to tell you that I don't like your advice. If I followed it much longer there's no doubt that I'd starve to death."

"It has kept you out of the cornfield, hasn't it?" Dickie inquired.

"Yes!" Fatty admitted. "But it won't much longer. I'm on my way to the cornfield now." He looked at Dickie and frowned, as if to say, "Just try to stop me!"

"Aren't you afraid to go there?" Dickie asked him.

Fatty Coon sniffed.

"That story about old dog Spot was