ing. Whitefoot
pricked up his ears and listened. There it was again. He knew instantly
how that sound was made. It was made by dainty little feet beating very
fast on an old log. Whitefoot had drummed that way himself many times.
It was soft, but clear, and it lasted only a moment.

Right then something very strange happened to Whitefoot. Yes, sir,
something very strange happened to Whitefoot. All in a flash he felt
better. At first he didn't know why. He just did, that was all. Without
thinking what he was doing, he began to drum himself. Then he listened.
At first he heard nothing. Then, soft and low, came that drumming sound
again. Whitefoot replied to it. All the time he kept feeling better. He
ran a little nearer to the place from which that drumming sound had come
and then once more drummed. At first he got no reply.

Then in a few minutes he heard it again, only this time it came from
a different place. Whitefoot became quite excited. He knew that that
drumming was done by another Wood Mouse, and all in a flash it came over
him what had been the matter with him.

"I have been lonely!" exclaimed Whitefoot. "That is all that has been
the trouble with me. I have been lonely and didn't know it. I wonder if
that other Wood Mouse has felt the same way."

Again he drummed and again came that soft reply. Once more Whitefoot
hurried in the direction of it, and once more he was disappointed when
the next reply came from a different place. By now he was getting quite
excited. He was bound to find that other Wood Mouse. Every time he heard
that drumming, funny little thrills ran all over him. He didn't know
why. They just did, that was all. He simply must find that other Wood
Mouse. He forgot everything else. He didn't even notice where he was
going. He would drum, then wait for a reply. As soon as he heard it,
he would scamper in the direction of it, and then pause to drum again.
Sometimes the reply would be very near, then again it would be so far
away that a great fear would fill Whitefoot's heart that the stranger
was running away.

CHAPTER XXVI: Love Fills The Heart Of Whitefoot

Joyous all the winds that blow
To the heart with love aglow.
--Whitefoot.

It was a wonderful game of hide-and-seek that Whitefoot the Wood Mouse
was playing in the dusk of early evening. Whitefoot was "it" all the
time. That is, he was the one who had to do all the hunting. Just who he
was hunting for he didn't know. He