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Updated: July 5, 2025
She dare not leave one spot untouched, nor one tress of the beautiful hair that had been White Mink's pride. When the work was at last finished, there was no mirror in which to look at herself. Once just once, during her eight years of life among the Mandans, she had seen a looking-glass.
Soon afterwards The Stone and Black Bull were quietly sleeping, while the little captive, with tears rolling down her cheeks, lay thinking of the kind friends far away and of the dreadful things that might happen on the morrow. All at once she remembered the baby's sock hidden in her dress, and of White Mink's words. Perhaps perhaps the sock would help her. But how?
From under the shingle roof there was a sound of struggling a thump, as a body hit the ground an old woman's squeal of rage. Then, into the faint glare reflected from the fire, came a stooping figure in squaw's dress, that sped through the scattering crowd, shot into Brown Mink's tent and was gone.
He did not care even to be seen talking with such a worthless fellow. But there were many other people living in Pleasant Valley and on Blue Mountain who decided to go to Peter Mink's lecture when they learned that they might get in free. And when the night of the lecture arrived even Peter himself was surprised to see how many were present.
Bacon volunteered to ask her Jim about him, and three days later stopped by Miss Mink's cottage to tell her that Bowinski had broken his leg over a week before and was in the Base Hospital. "Can anybody go out there that wants to?" demanded Miss Mink. "Yes, on Sundays and Wednesdays. But you can't count on the cars running to-day. Jim says everything's snowed under two feet deep."
He had hoped to get a fish or two to eat. But there was nothing he could say, though he did wish Timothy Turtle could take a hint. "In the morning you can read to me again," Timothy told him. So they went to bed. But in the morning the Almanac was nowhere to be found. Timothy Turtle hunted for it in every place he could think of except Peter Mink's pocket.
The head was bigger than that of any Muskrat Jerry had ever seen. It was bigger than the head of any of Billy Mink's relatives. It was the head of a stranger, a stranger so big that Jerry felt very, very small and hoped with all his might that the stranger would not see him. Jerry held his breath as the stranger swam past and then climbed out on the dam.
He said as much to Grandfather Frog one day, as they watched Billy Mink catch a fat trout. "Chug-a-rum!" said Grandfather Frog and looked sharply at Peter. "Chug-a-rum! People never know what they can do till they try. Once upon a time Billy Mink's great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather couldn't swim any more than you can, but he didn't waste any time foolishly wishing that he could."
Even Billy Mink treated Grandfather Frog with respect, for Billy Mink's father and his father's father could not remember when Grandfather Frog had not sat on the lily pad watching for green flies. Down in the Smiling Pool were some of Grandfather Frog's great-great-great-great-great grandchildren. You wouldn't have known that they were his grandchildren unless some one told you.
Rabbit and Mrs. Squirrel and Mrs. Woodchuck as well as a good many other people did not care to have their sons in Peter Mink's company. They said that any one who went about looking as untidy as he did, and without a home, was not likely to set a good example to the young. But Jimmy Rabbit and Frisky Squirrel and Billy Woodchuck loved to be with Peter Mink. To be sure, he was quarrelsome.
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