So they went right on having a good time, keeping up a nice fire, and eating up whatever they had; for they thought the big snow couldn't last as long as their wood and their things to eat, and every day they went up to look out of the up-stairs windows to see how much had melted, and every day they found it just about the same, only maybe a little crustier on top, and the weather stayed _very cold_.

But they didn't mind it so long as they were warm and not hungry, and they played games, and recited their pieces, and sang, and danced, and said they had never had such a good time in all their lives.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ONE DAY MR. CROW FOUND HE WAS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE BARREL OF EVERYTHING]

But one day when Mr. Crow went down into the store-room for supplies he found that he was at the bottom of the barrel of everything they had, and he came up looking pretty sober, though he didn't say anything about it--not then, for he knew there were plenty of bones and odds and ends he could sc.r.a.pe up, and he had a little flour and some meal in his pantry; so he could make soup and gravy and johnny-cake and hash, which he did right away, and they all said how fine such things were for a change, and told Mr. Crow to go right on making them as long as he wanted to, even if the snow stayed on till spring. And Mr. 'Possum and Mr. 'c.o.o.n said it was like old times, and that Mr. Crow was probably the very best provider in the Big Deep Woods.

Mr. Crow smiled, too, but he didn't feel like it much, for he knew that even johnny-cake and gravy wouldn't last forever, and that unless the snow went away pretty soon they would all be hungry and cold, for the wood was getting low, too.

And one morning, when Mr. Crow went to his meal-sack and his flour-bag and his pile of odds and ends there was just barely enough for breakfast, and hardly that. And Mr. Crow didn't like to tell them about it, for he knew they all thought he could keep right on making johnny-cake and gravy forever, because they didn't have to stop to think where things came from, as he did, and he was afraid they would blame him when there was nothing more left.

So the Old Black Crow tried to step around lively and look pleasant, to keep anybody from noticing, because he thought it might turn warm that day and melt the snow; and when breakfast was ready he put on what there was and said he hadn't cooked very much because he had heard that light breakfasts were better for people who stayed in the house a good deal, and as for himself, he said he guessed he wouldn't eat any breakfast that morning at all.

Then while the others were eating he crept down-stairs and looked at the empty boxes and barrels and the few sticks of wood that were left, and he knew that if that snow didn't melt off right away they were going to have a _very hard time_. Then he came back up in the big living-room and went on up-stairs to his own room, to look out the window to see if it wasn't going to be a warm, melting day. But Mr. Crow came back pretty soon. He came back in a hurry, too, and he slammed his door and locked it, and then let go of everything and just slid down-stairs. Then the Deep Woods People jumped up quick from the table and ran to him, for they thought he was having a fit of some kind, and they still thought so when they looked into his face: for Mr. Crow's eyes were rolled up and his bill was pale, and when he tried to speak he couldn't. And Mr.

Rabbit said it was because Mr. Crow had done without his breakfast, and he ran to get something from the table; but Mr. Crow couldn't eat, and then they saw that some of the feathers on top of his head were turning gray, and they knew he had seen some awful thing just that little moment he was in his room.

So then they all looked at one another and wondered what it was, and they were glad Mr. Crow had locked the door. Then they carried him over to the fire, and pretty soon he got so he could whisper a little, and when they knew what he was saying they understood why he was so scared and why he had locked the door; for the words that Mr. Crow kept whispering over and over were: "Old Hungry-Wolf! Old Hungry-Wolf! Old Hungry-Wolf!"

All the Deep Woods People know what that means. They know that when Old Hungry-Wolf comes, or even when you hear him bark, it means that there is no food left in the Big Deep Woods for anybody, and that n.o.body can tell how long it will be before there _will_ be food again. And all the Deep Woods People stood still and held their breath and listened for the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf, because they knew Mr. Crow had seen his face looking in the window. And they all thought they heard it, except Mr.

'Possum, who said he didn't believe it was Old Hungry-Wolf at all that Mr. Crow had seen, but only Mr. Gray Wolf himself, who had perhaps slipped out and travelled over the snow to see if they were all at home and comfortable.

But Mr. Crow said:

"No, no; it was Old Hungry-Wolf! He was big and black, and I saw his great fiery eyes!"

Then Mr. 'Possum looked very brave, and said he would see if Old Hungry-Wolf was looking into his window too, and he went right up, and soon came back and said there wasn't any big black face at his window, and he thought that Mr. Crow's empty stomach had made him imagine things.

So then Mr. 'c.o.o.n said that he would go up to _his_ room if the others would like to come along, and they could see for themselves whether Old Hungry-Wolf was trying to get in or not.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THEN MR. 'c.o.o.n SLAMMED HIS DOOR]

Then they all went very quietly up Mr. 'c.o.o.n's stair (all except Mr.

'Possum, who stayed with Mr. Crow), and they opened Mr. 'c.o.o.n's door and took one look inside, and then Mr. 'c.o.o.n he slammed _his_ door shut, and locked it, and they all let go of everything and came sliding down in a heap, for they had seen the great fiery eyes and black face of Old Hungry-Wolf glaring in at Mr. 'c.o.o.n's window.

So they all huddled around the fire and lit their pipes--for they still had some tobacco--and smoked, but didn't say anything, until by-and-by Mr. Crow told them that there wasn't another bite to eat in the house and very little wood, and that that was the reason why Old Hungry-Wolf had come. And they talked about it in whispers--whether they ought to exercise any more, because though exercise would help them to keep warm and save wood, it would make them hungrier. And some of them said they thought they would try to go to sleep like Mr. Bear, who slept all winter and never knew that he was hungry until spring. So they kept talking, and now and then they would stop and listen, and they all said they could hear the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf--all except Mr. 'Possum, which was strange, because Mr. 'Possum is fond of good things and would be apt to be the very first to hear Old Hungry's bark.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Mr. 'POSSUM SAID NOT TO MOVE, THAT HE WOULD GO AFTER A PIECE OF WOOD]

And when the fire got very low and it was getting cold, Mr. 'Possum said for them not to move; that he would go down after a piece of wood, and he would attend to the fire as long as the wood lasted, and try to make it last as long as possible. And every time the fire got very low Mr. 'Possum would bring a piece of wood, and sometimes he stayed a good while (just for one piece of wood), but they still didn't think much about it--not then. What they did think about was how hungry they were, and Mr. Crow said he knew he could eat as much as the old ancestor of his that was told about in a book which he had once borrowed from Mr.

Man's little boy who had left it out in the yard at dinner-time.

Then they all begged Mr. Crow to get the book and read it to them, and perhaps they could imagine they were not so hungry. So Mr. Crow brought the book and read them the poem about

THE RAVENOUS RAVEN

[Ill.u.s.tration: HE WOULD SMOKE IN THE SUN WHEN THE MORNINGS WERE FAIR]

Oh, there was an old raven as black as could be, And a wonderful sort of a raven was he; For his house he kept tidy, his yard he kept neat, And he cooked the most marvellous dainties to eat.

He could roast, he could toast, he could bake, he could fry, He could stir up a cake in the wink of an eye, He could boil, he could broil, he could grill, he could stew Oh, there wasn't a thing that this bird couldn't do.

He would smoke in the sun when the mornings were fair, And his plans for new puddings and pies would prepare; But, alas! like the famous Jim Crow with his shelf, He was greedy, and ate all his dainties himself.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WITH A LOOK AND A SIGH THEY WOULD STAND AND BEHOLD]

It was true he was proud of the things he could cook, And would call in his neighbors sometimes for a look, Or a taste, it may be, when his pastry was fine; But he'd never been known to invite them to dine.

With a look and a sigh they could stand and behold All the puddings so brown and the sauces of gold; With a taste and a growl they'd reluctantly go Praying vengeance to fall on that greedy old crow.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE TASTIEST PASTRY THAT EVER WAS KNOWN]

Now, one morning near Christmas when holly grows green, And the best of good things in the markets are seen, He went out for a smoke in the crisp morning air, And to think of some holiday dish to prepare.

Mr. Rabbit had spices to sell at his store, Mr. Reynard had tender young chicks by the score, And the old raven thought, as he stood there alone, Of the tastiest pastry that ever was known.

Then away to the market he hurried full soon, Dropping in for a chat with the 'possum and 'c.o.o.n Just to tell them his plans, which they heard with delight, And to ask them to call for a moment that night For a look and a taste of his pastry so fine, And he hinted he might even ask them to dine.

Then he hurried away, and the rest of the day Messrs. 'Possum and 'c.o.o.n were expectant and gay.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THEN TO STIR AND TO BAKE HE BEGAN RIGHT AWAY]

Oh, he hurried away and to market he went, And his money for spices and poultry he spent, While behind in the market were many, he knew, Who would talk of the marvellous things he would do; So with joy in his heart and with twinkling eye He returned to his home his new project to try, Then to stir and to bake he began right away, And his dish was complete at the end of the day.

Aye, the marvel was done--'twas a rich golden hue, And its smell was delicious--the old raven knew That he never had made such a pastry before, And a look of deep trouble his countenance wore; "For," thought he, "I am certain the' possum and 'c.o.o.n That I talked with to-day will be coming here soon, And expect me to ask them to dine, when, you see, There is just a good feast in this dainty for me."

Now, behold, he'd scarce uttered his thoughts when he heard At the cas.e.m.e.nt a tapping--this greedy old bird-- And the latch was uplifted, and gayly strode in Both the 'c.o.o.n and the 'possum with faces agrin.

They were barbered and brushed and arrayed in their best, In the holiday fashion their figures were dressed, While a look in each face, to the raven at least, Said, "We've come here to-night, sir, prepared for a feast."

And the raven he smiled as he said, "Howdy-do?"

For he'd thought of a plan to get rid of the two; And quoth he, "My dear friends, I am sorry to say That the wonderful pastry I mentioned to-day When it came to be baked was a failure complete, Disappointing to taste and disturbing to eat.

I am sorry, dear friends, for I thought 'twould be fine; I am sorry I cannot invite you to dine."

And the 'c.o.o.n and the 'possum were both sorry, too, And suspicious, somewhat, for the raven they knew.

They declared 'twas too bad all that pudding to waste, And they begged him to give them at least just a taste, But he firmly refused and at last they departed, While the greedy old crow for the dining-room started, And the pie so delicious he piled on his plate, And he ate, and he ate, and he ate, and he ate!

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE GREEDY OLD RAVEN, BUT GREEDY NO MORE]

Well, next morn when the 'possum and 'c.o.o.n pa.s.sed along They could see at the raven's that something was wrong, For no blue curling smoke from the chimney-top came; So they opened his door and they called out his name, And they entered inside, and behold! on the floor Was the greedy old raven, but greedy no more: For his heart it was still--not a flutter was there-- And his toes were turned up and the table was bare; Now his epitaph tells to the whole country-side How he ate, and he ate, and he ate till he died.

When Mr. Crow finished, Mr. Rabbit said it was certainly an interesting poem, and if he just had a chance now to eat till he died he'd take it, and Mr. 'c.o.o.n said he'd give anything to know how that pie had tasted, and he didn't see how any _one_ pie could be big enough to kill anybody that felt as hungry as _he_ did now. And Mr. 'Possum didn't say much of anything, but only seemed drowsy and peaceful-like, which was curious for _him_ as things were.

Well, all that day, and the next day, and the next, there wasn't anything to eat, and they sat as close as they could around the little fire and wished they'd saved some of the big logs and some of the food, too, that they had used up so fast when they thought the big snow would go away. And the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf got louder and louder, and he began to gnaw, too, and they all heard it, day and night--all except Mr.

'Possum, who said he didn't know why, but that for some reason he couldn't hear a sound like that at all, which was _very_ strange, indeed.

But there was something else about Mr. 'Possum that was strange. He didn't get any thinner. All the others began to show the change right away, but Mr. 'Possum still looked the same, and still kept cheerful, and stepped around as lively as ever, and that was _very strange_.

By-and-by, when Mr. 'Possum had gone down-stairs for some barrel staves to burn, for the wood was all gone, Mr. Rabbit spoke of it, and said he couldn't understand it; and then Mr. 'c.o.o.n, who had been thinking about it too, said he wondered why it sometimes took Mr. 'Possum so long to get a little bit of wood. Then they all remembered how Mr. Possum had stayed so long down-stairs whenever he went, even before Old Hungry-Wolf came to the Hollow Tree, and they couldn't understand it _at all_.

And just then Mr. 'Possum came up with two little barrel staves which he had been a long time getting, and they all turned and looked at him very closely, which was a thing they had never done until that time. And before Mr. 'Possum noticed it, they saw him chew--a kind of last, finishing chew--and then give a little swallow--a sort of last, finishing swallow--and just then he noticed them watching him, and he stopped right in his tracks and dropped the two little barrel staves and looked very scared and guilty, which was strange, when he had always been so willing about the wood.

[Ill.u.s.tration: LOOKED STRAIGHT AT MR. 'POSSUM AND SAID, "WHAT WAS THAT YOU WERE CHEWING JUST NOW?"]

Then they all got up out of their chairs and looked straight at Mr.