FROSTY PROWLS

Having his freedom, Frosty accepted it. Partly because the boy had set him free, he also accepted Andy. But there was another and very compelling reason why he had chosen to come back into the house, rather than escape into the swamp or the surrounding wilderness.

Perfectly capable of making his own way, entirely self-sufficient, he recognized no superior and would bow to no inferior. But he liked Andy and, in spite of the fact that he could do very well all by himself, he would not choose a lonely life, providing he could ally himself with an equal. If this fellow had kept him prisoner for a little while, he had also set him free and he had offered no real hurt. Frosty had recognized in Andy the same needs and urgencies that were so powerful within himself. They were traveling similar paths and it was well that they go together.

But it must be on a basis of strict equality, and because he was currently busy washing his face, Frosty continued to do so after Andy spoke to him. The young man’s smile remained.

“Independent little devil, aren’t you?”

His cleanup finished, Frosty sat down with his tail curled behind him and stared at the youth with unreadable feline eyes. Not until Andy swung out of bed and started across the floor did the kitten move. Then he went to meet his new partner, and arched his back and purred when Andy stooped to pet him. Thus, with a caress and a purr, their bargain was signed and sealed and both understood its terms.

While Andy prepared his breakfast, Frosty walked back out the open door and composed himself in the warming sun. He was not hungry, the fish heads and offal had been more than an adequate meal. While seeming to sleep, he inspected this new domain over which he had just become co-ruler.

Sporting in the slough, Four-Leaf and Clover and their family attracted his slight interest. They did not seem to be dangerous. They were creatures of the water, and, aside from its convenience when he was thirsty, Frosty had a violent aversion to water in all its forms. If he were hungry and happened to find a young muskrat on land, he might very well catch and kill one. Under no circumstances would he molest creatures in their sloughs and ponds.

While his eyes remained on the muskrat family, his ears were attuned to every sound. The various birdcalls he knew and because he did, he dismissed them as of little consequence. But when he heard the doe, that had gone to rest in some tall swamp grass, reach back to scratch an itching flank with a moist muzzle, he became instantly alert. He did not know the sound and he must know it.

Rising, Frosty slipped from the porch into the yard. He had marked the doe, but though she remained the primary center of interest, he did not concentrate on her to the exclusion of all else. His first days in the hills had taught him that he could afford to neglect nothing on the ground and his recent grim experience with the owl was proof enough that he must also and at all times be aware of everything in the air. Because he was alert, Frosty saw the rattlesnake Andy had encountered last night before it saw him.

Still sluggish, digestion not yet complete, the snake had crawled to the lee of a boulder for the greater protection it offered against the night’s chill. It coiled there, fearing little and scarcely interested in anything that happened.

Frosty soft-pawed a bit nearer. The snake was interesting and he had never before seen its like. Now was a good time to gauge its potentialities and discover for himself what manner of creature it might be. Guided by innate caution, the kitten halted three feet away and stared fixedly. Becoming alert, the snake rattled a warning.

Frosty listened, and having heard the sound, it was his. Watching the kitten with beady eyes, the snake ceased rattling. Frosty arched his back. He still did not know what manner of creature this might be, but whatever it was, he did not like it. Intending to discover for himself exactly what the snake could do, he remained cautious.

His feint, when he made it, was swift as only a cat’s can be. His leap carried him to within fifteen inches of the forty-five inch snake and he nearly met disaster. The striking fangs came within a breath of brushing his fur! Having found out everything he wanted to know, Frosty withdrew.

The snake would strike and its swiftness equaled his own, but the kitten’s anger increased. He had been challenged in his own territory. He would accept that challenge, but not blindly. A born warrior, he was also a born strategist.

The snake, rattling continuously now, undulated its thick body into coils. But though its strike was lightning fast, otherwise it was a comparatively sluggish thing. Frosty feinted again.