Snoutie and His Friends

“Excuse me, Wise Old Owl, but I really need to get home. The day is already ending. Goose will be back soon, and he’ll be very worried if he doesn’t find me there. And I don’t think I’m able to fly home yet.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get home quickly enough,” laughed Owl. “And soon you’ll learn what exactly it is that you can do much better than others. But for now, do you see that path? Run along it and follow the trail left by Burly Boary. This path will take you to a road that leads to Chez Royal Chef Rabbit. From there it’s not far to Goose’s house.”

Young Ostrich thanked Wise Old Owl for the advice and ran off quickly down the forest path. The wind picked up again and started blowing leaves off the trees. Threatening dark-grey clouds gathered over the Forest, and suddenly there was lots of activity. Young Ostrich noticed that all the forest creatures, large and small, were hurrying along the path with him back to their homes. He also noticed that he was running faster than all of them, even the fastest runners. He even jumped across the wide stream without the slightest effort.

“I have to get home as quickly as possible so Goose doesn’t get upset!” thought Young Ostrich, forcing himself to run even faster. Now the trees and bushes along the path were flashing by so quickly that Young Ostrich could hardly make them out. “I have to slow down or else I’ll run right by my house!” he exclaimed, and then he stopped. The door to his house stood right in front of him.

“Well, congratulations, Champion!” heard Young Ostrich. “No, no, you didn’t hear me wrong,” continued Wise Old Owl, who had settled down on the roof of the house. “You run faster than any bird or animal in the Forest.”

“I never would have thought it,” said a surprised and happy Young Ostrich.

“Now you know what it is that you do better than anyone else,” smiled Wise Old Owl. “Being able to fly is not at all necessary, especially for those who run faster than anyone else. As my neighbor Madame Partridge would say, you must develop your competitive edge.” Owl gaily winked goodbye to Young Ostrich.

Young Ostrich looked thoughtfully after Owl as he flew away and saw that the clouds had broken up and the thunderstorm had passed the forest by.

Meanwhile, Goose was just finishing his mail deliveries. He walked up to Snoutie’s house and rang the doorbell. He found Snoutie in the garden wearing a chef’s hat and apron.

“Welcome! You’re just in time, Goose,” announced Snoutie. “It’s Corn Thursday, and I have made corn fritters with cheese. Please join us!”

A tired Goose happily followed Snoutie into the garden, where the table was already set for dinner.

CHAPTER FOUR,

IN WHICH BURLY BOARY GETS STRANDED ON AN ISLAND, SNOUTIE ORGANIZES A RESCUE PARTY, AND BEAVER CUB GNAWS THROUGH A SAILBOAT

“Don’t forget to take your ga-ga-ga-galoshes,” announced Goose, who was usually the first to know the latest news because of his job as a postman. “The newspapers are predicting heavier rain than we’ve seen in years.”

And, just as the well-informed Goose had warned, the rain started the very next Friday. It began pouring down in the morning, continued through lunch, and was so bad by evening that none of the creatures in the Big Forest wanted to leave their homes, even for the most important reasons (stocking up on food) or for entertainment (visiting friends). The rain had still not let up by the next morning, and it continued all weekend long.

Usually Burly Boary slept quite well in this kind of weather. He would crack the window open and breathe in the fresh, forest air and the smell of wet pine trees and juniper with his sleepy snout. He was not at all bothered by the flashing of lightning, the noise of the downpour, the howling of the wind, or the groaning of broken branches. It was only sometimes, when the thunder pealed loudly, that Burly Boary would grunt with annoyance in his sleep, turn over onto the other side, and continue his dreaming.

The rain finally stopped on Monday morning. Long-awaited rays of sunlight poked through the thick, wet undergrowth and were reflected in the puddles of water that lay everywhere. The forest paths and green meadows, the small shrubs and little knolls—all these were soaked with water. Little brooks had turned into streams, and streams had become rivers.

The forest creatures were finally able to come out of their houses. Some hurried off to find new ones because their old ones were flooded, others rushed to dry out their wet supplies of food, and still others just wanted to fluff out their feathers, stretch their legs, air out their ears, and warm up in the sun.