“Well, then, we must have all the fun we can the few remaining days that we are to be on Raccoon Island,” said Flop Ear.

“Correct,” spoke Curly Tail.  “Let’s take a walk and see if we can find an adventure.”

So off they started from Uncle Wiggily’s bungalow, and when they came to a place where there were two paths through the woods, Curly Tail said: 

“Now, Flop Bar, you go one way and I’ll go the other, and we will see who first meets with an adventure.”

“Very well,” agreed Flop Ear, and off he went through the woods, but, as nothing happened to him except that he fell down a well and had trouble getting out again, I shall not tell his adventure.  Instead, I will relate what happened to Curly Tail.

On and on he went, and he was wondering what would happen to him, when, all at once, as he came to a little river that flowed through the island, he heard a voice saying: 

“Oh, I shall never get across.  I know I shan’t.  I’m so afraid of water, and I know there are cat-tails and pussy willows and all sorts of things like that around here.  Oh! what shall I do?  I want to get across to see my grandmother, but how can I?”

“Hum!  That is queer,” thought Curly Tail.  “I wonder who that can be?  I had better be careful, though, for it may be the fuzzy fox trying to fool me.”

So, carefully hiding himself behind a stone, he peered over the top, and once more he heard the voice saying: 

“Oh! isn’t it dreadful to be afraid!”

“Why, it’s a little mousie girl,” exclaimed Curly Tail out loud.

“Of course, it is,” said the little creature beside the river.  “And I’m afraid of the water, and the cat-tails and the pussy willows and all that.”

“There are no pussy willows out now, they only come in the spring,” said Curly Tail.  “Though there may be some cat-tails.  But they are not real cats, you know.  They won’t hurt you.  Are you a little afraid, mousie girl?”

“Yes, but that isn’t my name,” she said.  “My name is Edna, and I’m dreadfully afraid of the water.  How shall I get across?”

“I’ll get a big board and make believe it is a boat,” said Curly Tail.  “Then you won’t be afraid.”

“Oh, yes, I will,” she said.  “Can’t you think of some other way?”

Curly Tail shook his head, and even twisted up his ear, and then he thought real hard.

“I have it!” he cried.  “You shall get on the board boat, and all the while you must keep looking up at the sky.  Then you will not see the water, and you’ll think you’re flying and you won’t be afraid.”

“The very thing!” cried Edna, the little afraid mousie girl.  So Curly Tail got a nice, big board for a boat, and pushed it into the water.  Then he got a pole to shove himself and the mousie girl across the river, and they both got on the boat.

“Now mind!” exclaimed Curly Tail.  “Keep looking up, and you won’t be afraid.”