- Whitefoot.
Whitefoot, half-way up that dead tree, flattened himself against the
trunk and, with his heart going pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat with fright,
peered around the tree at an enemy he had not seen for so long that
he had quite forgotten there was such a one. It was Butcher the
Shrike. Often he is called just Butcher Bird. He did not look at
all terrible. He was not quite as big as Sammy Jay. He had no
terrible claws like the Hawks and Owls. There was a tiny hook at
the end of his black bill, but it wasn't big enough to look very
dreadful. But you can not always judge a person by looks, and
Whitefoot knew that Butcher was one to be feared.
So his heart went pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat as he wondered if Butcher had
seen him. He didn't have to wait long to find out. Butcher flew to
a tree back of Whitefoot and then straight at him. Whitefoot dodged
around to the other side of the tree. Then began a dreadful game.
At least, it was dreadful to Whitefoot. This way and that way
around the trunk of that tree he dodged, while Butcher did his best
to catch him.
Whitefoot would not have minded this so much, had he not been so tired,
and had he known of a hiding-place close at hand.
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