It was so with Mrs. Quack. She had kept her troubles locked in
her own heart so long that it did her good to pour them all out to
Peter.

"Mr. Quack and I spent a very comfortable winter way down in
the sunny Southland," said she with a far-away look. "It was very
warm and nice down there, and there were a great many other Ducks
spending the winter with us. The place where we were was far from
the homes of men, and it was only once in a long while that we had
to watch out for terrible guns. Of course, we had to have our wits
with us all the time, because there are Hawks and Owls and Minks
down there just as there are up here, but any Duck who can't keep
out of their way deserves to furnish one of them a dinner.

"Then there was another fellow we had to watch out for, a queer
fellow whom we never see anywhere but down there. It was never safe
to swim too near an old log floating in the water or lying on the
bank, because it might suddenly open a great mouth and swallow one
of us whole."

"What's that?" Peter Rabbit leaned forward and stared at Mrs. Quack
with his eyes popping right out. "What's that?" he repeated. "How
can an old log have a mouth?"

Mrs. Quack just had to smile, Peter was so in earnest and looked
so astonished.

"Of course," said she, "no really truly log has a mouth or is alive,
but this queer fellow I was speaking of looks so much like an old
log floating in the water unless you look at him very sharply,