So Happy Jack ran over to
one of his favorite lookouts, a tall chestnut tree, and there, with his
back against the trunk, high above the ground, he watched the Green
Forest wake as the first Sunbeams stole through it. But all the time he
kept thinking of that dreadful dream.
A little spot of black moving against the white snow caught his sharp
eyes. What was it? He leaned forward and held his breath, as he tried to
make sure. Ah, now he could see! Just ahead of that black thing was a
long, slim fellow all in white, and that black spot was his tail. If it
hadn't been for that, Happy Jack very likely wouldn't have seen him at
all. It was Shadow the Weasel! He was running swiftly, first to one side
and then to the other, with his nose to the snow. He was hunting. There
was no doubt about that. He was hunting for his breakfast.
Happy Jack's eyes grew wide with fear. Would Shadow find his tracks? It
looked very much as if Shadow was heading for Happy Jack's house, and
Happy Jack was glad, very glad, that that bad dream had waked him and
made him so uneasy that he had come out.
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