in his new home in the little cave in the ledge of rocks deep in the green forest bobby coon at last slept peacefully. there was no one to disturb him, and so he made up for all the time he had lost. he slept all the rest of that day, and when he awoke, jolly, round red mr. sun had gone to bed behind the purple hills, and mistress moon had taken his place in the sky.
at first, bobby couldn't think where he was. he rubbed his eyes and stared hard at the stone walls of his bedroom and wondered where he was and how he came to be there. then, little by little, he remembered all that had happened—how he had made a mistake in thinking he could take unc' billy possum's home away from him; how he had heedlessly crept into prickly porky's house for a nap, only to be driven out by prickly porky himself; how he had found a splendid hollow stump but had been discovered there by blacky the crow and afterward by buster bear; how buster bear had chased him and given him a terrible shaking in the top of a slender young tree; how buster had stopped to chase peter rabbit; how he, bobby, had taken this chance to run until he could run no more and found himself in a strange part of the green forest; how he had looked in vain for a hollow tree in which to make a new home, and lastly how he had found this little cave in the ledge of rock. little by little, all this came back to bobby, as he lay stretching and yawning.
at last, he scrambled to his feet and began to examine his new house more carefully than he had when he first entered. the more he studied it, the better he liked it. having no one else to talk to, he talked to himself.
“the first and most important thing to look for in a house is safety,” said he. “i used to think a good stout hollow tree was the safest place in the world, but i was mistaken. men can cut hollow trees down. that is what happened to my old house. but it can't happen here. no, sir, it can't possibly happen here. neither can buster bear tear it open with his great claws. and the entrance is so narrow that no one of whom i need be afraid can possibly get in here. this is the safest place i've ever seen.
“the next most important thing is dryness. a damp house is bad, very bad. it is uncomfortable, and it is bad for the health. this place is perfectly dry. it will be warm in winter and cool in summer. i can't imagine a more comfortable house. the only thing lacking is a good bed, and that i'll soon make. on the whole, i guess the finding of this new house is worth all i went through. now i think i'll go out and get acquainted with the neighborhood and see if i have got any near neighbors.”
so bobby went out through the narrow entrance and began to look about to see what he could discover. “i think,” said he, “that i'll follow this ledge and see if there are any more caves like mine. i might find a better one, though i doubt it.”
he shuffled along, light of heart and brimming over with excitement and curiosity. you know it always is great fun to explore a strange place. he had gone but a little way when he came to a sort of big open cave in the rock. bobby stopped and peered in. almost the first thing he saw was a bed. it was a big bed, and it was made of dry leaves and little branches of hemlock. it was a very good bed, and it was clear that some one had been sleeping in it very recently. bobby's eyes grew very round. then he sniffed.
that one sniff was enough. bobby turned and ran back to his new house as fast as his legs would take him. all the pleasure he had taken in his new home was gone. he had discovered that his nearest neighbor was none other than buster bear himself!
