All would of been well maybe, only his mammy nickered “that’s a good boy,” and that’s what queered Smoky. His head went up proud as a peacock and he forgot all about keeping his props stiff and under him. Down he went the whole length of his legs, and there he layed the same as before.
But he didn’t lay long this time. He either liked the sport of going up and coming down or else he was getting peeved; he was up again, mighty shaky, but he was up sure enough. His mammy came to him. She sniffed at him and he sniffed back. Then nature played another hand and he nursed, the first nourishment was took in, his tummy warmed up and strength came fast. Smoky was an hour and a half old and up to stay.
The rest of that day was full of events for Smoky. He explored the whole country, went up big mountains two feet high, wide valleys six or eight feet acrost, and at one time was as far as twelve feet away from his mammy all by himself. He shied at a rock once; it was a dangerous looking rock, and he kicked at it as he went past. All that action being put on at once come pretty near being too much for him and he came close to measuring his whole length on Mother Earth once again. But luck was with him, and taking it all he had a mighty good time. When the sun went to sinking over the blue ridges in the West, Smoky, he missed all the beauty of the first sunset in his life;—he was stretched out full length, of his own accord this time, and sound asleep.
The night was a mighty good rival of what the day had been. All the stars was out and showing off, and the braves was a chasing the buffalo plum around the Big Dipper, the water hole of The Happy Hunting Grounds. But all that was lost to Smoky; he was still asleep and recuperating from his first day’s adventures, and most likely he’d kept on sleeping for a good long spell, only his mammy who was standing guard over him happened to get a little too close and stepped on his tail.
Smoky must of been in the middle of some bad dream. His natural instinct might of pictured some enemy to his mind, and something that looked like a wolf or a bear must of had him cornered for sure. Anyway, when he felt his tail pinched that way he figgered that when a feller begins to feel it’s sure time to act, and he did. He shot up right under his mammy’s chin, let out a squeal, and stood there ready to fight. He took in the country for feet and feet around and looking for the enemy that’d nipped him, and finally in his scouting around that way he run acrost the shadow of his mammy. That meant but one thing, safety; and that accounted for and put away as past left room for a craving he’d never noticed in his excitement. He was hungry, and proceeded right then and there to take on a feed of his mammy’s warm, rich milk.
The sky was beginning to get light in the East, the stars was fading away and the buffalo hunters had went to rest. A few hours had passed since Smoky had been woke up out of his bad dream and there he was, asleep again. He’d missed his first sunset and now he was sleeping thru his first sunrise, but he was going to be prepared for that new day’s run, and the strength he was accumulating through them sleeps and between feeds would sure make him fit to cover a lot of territory.
There wasn’t a move out of him till the sun was well up and beginning to throw a good heat. He stacked up on a lot of that heat, and pretty soon one of his ears moved, then the other. He took a long breath and stretched. Smoky was coming to life.—His mammy nickered, and that done the trick; Smoky raised his head, looked around, and proceeded to get up. After a little time that was done and bowing his neck he stretched again. Smoky was ready for another day.
The big day started right after Smoky had his feed; then his mother went to grazing and moving away straight to the direction of some trees a mile or so to the south. A clear spring was by them trees, and water is what Smoky’s mammy wanted the most right then. She was craving for a drink of that cold water, but you’d never thought it by the way she traveled. She’d nose around at the grass and wait for spells, so as little Smoky could keep up with her and still find time to investigate everything what throwed a shadow.
A baby cottontail had jumped up once right under his nose, stood there a second too scared to
