n a big circle, but he
couldn't find Whitefoot's trail again. Snarling with anger and
disappointment, he returned to the little hole in the snow and vanished.
Then he followed all Whitefoot's little tunnels. He found Whitefoot's
nest. He found his store of seeds. But he didn't find Whitefoot.

"He'll come back," muttered Shadow, and curled up in Whitefoot's nest to
wait.

CHAPTER XV: Whitefoots Dreadful Journey

Danger may be anywhere,
So I expect it everywhere.
--Whitefoot.

Whitefoot the Wood Mouse was terribly frightened. Yes, sir, he was
terribly frightened. It was a long, long time since he had been as
frightened as he now was. He is used to frights, is Whitefoot. He has
them every day and every night, but usually they are sudden frights,
quickly over and as quickly forgotten.

This fright was different. You see Whitefoot had caught a glimpse of
Shadow the Weasel. And he knew that if Shadow returned he would be sure
to find the little round holes in the snow that led down to Whitefoot's
private little tunnels underneath.

The only thing for Whitefoot to do was to get just as far from that
place as he could before Shadow should return. And so poor little
Whitefoot started out on a journey that was to take him he knew not
where. All he could do was to go and go and go until he could find a
safe hiding-place.

My, my, but that was a dreadful journey! Every time a twig snapped,
Whitefoot's heart seemed to jump right up in his throat. Every time he
saw a moving shadow, and the branches of the trees moving in the wind
were constantly making moving shadows on the snow, he dodged behind
a tree trunk or under a piece of bark or wherever he could find a
hiding-place.

You see, Whitefoot has so many enemies always looking for him that he
hides whenever he sees anything moving. When at home, he is forever
dodging in and out of his hiding-places. So, because everything was
strange to him, and because of the great fear of Shadow the Weasel, he
suspected everything that moved and every sound he heard. For a long way
no one saw him, for no one was about. Yet all that way Whitefoot
twisted and dodged and darted from place to place and was just as badly
frightened as if there had been enemies all about.

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear me!" he kept saying over and over to himself.
"Wherever shall I go? Whatever shall I do? However shall I get enough to
eat? I won't dare go back to get food from my little storehouses