[Illustration: "Pooh," exclaimed Reddy Fox. "Who's afraid of that
fellow?" _Page 10._]

Now Striped Chipmunk had not heard Bowser the Hound at all when he
spoke, but just then there was the patter of heavy feet among the
dried leaves, and sure enough there was Bowser himself. My, how
everybody did run,--everybody but the stranger from the North. He kept
on coming down the tree just the same. Bowser saw him and stopped in
surprise. He had never seen anything quite like this big dark fellow.

"Bow, wow, wow!" shouted Bowser in his deepest voice.

Now, when Bowser used that great deep voice of his, he was accustomed
to seeing all the little meadow people and forest folk run, but this
stranger did not even hurry. Bowser was so surprised that he just
stood still and stared. Then he growled his deepest growl. Still the
stranger paid no attention to him. Bowser did not know what to make of
it.

"I'll teach that fellow a lesson," said Bowser to himself. "I'll shake
him, and shake him and shake him until he hasn't any breath left."

By this time the stranger was down on the ground and starting for
another tree, minding his own business. Then something happened.
Bowser made a rush at him, and instead of running, what do you suppose
the stranger did? He just rolled himself up in a tight ball with his
head tucked down in his waistcoat. When he was rolled up that way, all
the little spears hidden in the hair of his coat stood right out until
he looked like a great chestnut-burr. Bowser stopped short. Then he
reached out his nose and sniffed at this queer thing. Slap! The tail