They had become such
good friends that Whitefoot did not hesitate to take food from the
hands of Farmer Brown's boy. Never in all his life had he had so
much to eat or such good things to eat. He was getting so fat that
his handsome little coat was uncomfortably tight. He ran about
fearlessly while Farmer Brown and Farmer Brown's boy were making
maple syrup and maple sugar. He had even lost his fear of Bowser
the Hound, for Bowser had paid no attention to him whatever.
Now you remember that Whitefoot had made his home way down beneath
the great pile of wood in the sugar-house. Of course Farmer Brown
and Farmer Brown's boy used that wood for the fire to boil the sap
to make the syrup and sugar. Whitefoot thought nothing of this
until one day he discovered that his little home was no longer as
dark as it had been. A little ray of light crept down between the
sticks. Presently another little ray of light crept down between
the sticks.
It was then that Whitefoot began to grow anxious. It was then
he realized that that pile of wood was growing smaller and smaller,
and if it kept on growing smaller, by and by there wouldn't
be any pile of wood and his little home wouldn't be hidden at all.
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