To his delight, there were goodies almost without end. He nosed about, picking up potato peelings, and bits of bacon. And perhaps the best of all was a piece of cornbread, which Fatty fairly gobbled. And then he found a box half-full of something—scraps that tasted like apples, only they were not round like apples, and they were quite dry, instead of being juicy. But Fatty liked them; and he ate them all, down to the smallest bit.
He was thirsty, then. So he went down to the , which ran close by the camp. The loggers had cut a hole through the ice, so they could get water. And Fatty crept close to the edge of the hole and drank. He drank a great deal of water, because he was very thirsty. And when he had finished he sat down on the ice for a time. He did not care to stir about just then. And he did not think he would ever want anything to eat again.
At last Fatty Coon rose to his feet. He felt very . There was a strange, tight feeling about his stomach. And his sides were no longer thin. They stuck out just as they had before winter came—only more so. And what alarmed Fatty was this: his sides seemed to be sticking out more and more all the time.
He wondered what he had been eating. Those dry things that tasted like apples—he wondered what they were.
Join or Log In!
You need to log in to continue reading
(Left Keyword <-) Previous:
XVIII THE LOGGERS COME
Back
Next:
XX THE TRACKS IN THE SNOW
(Right Keyword:->)