thing as a hungry enemy.

CHAPTER XXXI: Whitefoot Is Hurt

The hurts that hardest are to bear
Come from those for whom we care.
--Whitefoot.

Whitefoot was hurt. Yes, sir, Whitefoot was hurt. He was very much hurt.
It wasn't a bodily hurt; it was an inside hurt. It was a hurt that made
his heart ache. And to make it worse, he couldn't understand it at all.
One evening he had been met at the little round doorway by little Mrs.
Whitefoot.

"You can't come in," said she.

"Why can't I?" demanded Whitefoot, in the greatest surprise.

"Never mind why. You can't, and that is all there is to it," replied
Mrs. Whitefoot.

"You mean I can't ever come in any more?" asked Whitefoot.

"I don't know about that," replied Mrs. Whitefoot, "but you can't come
in now, nor for some time. I think the best thing you can do is to go
back to your old home in the hollow stub."

Whitefoot stared at little Mrs. Whitefoot quite as if he thought she
had gone crazy. Then he lost his temper. "I guess I'll come in if I want
to," said he. "This home is quite as much my home as it is yours. You
have no right to keep me out of it. Just you get out of my way."

But little Mrs. Whitefoot didn't get out of his way, and do what he
would, Whitefoot couldn't get in. You see she quite filled that little
round doorway. Finally, he had to give up trying. Three times he came
back and each time he found little Mrs. Whitefoot in the doorway. And
each time she drove him away. Finally, for lack of any other place to
go to, he returned to his old home in the old stub. Once he had thought
this the finest home possible, but now somehow it didn't suit him at
all. The truth is he missed little Mrs. Whitefoot, and so what had once
been a home was now only a place in which to hide and sleep.

Whitefoot's anger did not last long. It was replaced by that hurt
feeling. He felt that he must have done something little Mrs. Whitefoot
did not like, but though he thought and thought he couldn't remember a
single thing. Several times he went back to see if Mrs. Whitefoot felt
any differently, but found she didn't. Finally she told him rather
sharply to go away and stay away. After that Whitefoot didn't venture
over to the new home. He would sometimes sit a short distance away
and gaze at it longingly. All the joy had gone out of the beautiful
springtime for him. He was quite as unhappy as he had been before he met
little Mrs. Whitefoot. You see, he was e