Sobbit Wimba and the Flood

Sobbit Wimba was a little rabbit who lived on an island in the middle of a wide, wide river. He was an orphan and lived with Gran Coon in the hollow of a giant oak tree. She was very good to him, but he was always sad.

None of the other animals could cheer him up. “Come on, Sobbit,” the Grouse family would call. “The thicket is a fun place to play!” But Sobbit Wimba would shake his head. “They have a big family, and I have only me,” he sniffed to himself. When the squirrels turned somersaults in the tree branches, old Gran Coon would shake with laughter. But Sobbit Wimba only smiled sadly. “If I could climb trees, I would feel happy, too,” he thought.

Sobbit Wimba felt worst on rainy days. His ears would droop and he would tremble all over. “Gran Coon,” he would moan, “my sisters and brothers drowned in a rain shower and my mother was eaten by an owl, so what will become of me?”

“My dear, Sobbit,” said Gran Coon, scolding him ever so gently, “nothing is going to hurt you because I am taking care of you! Let’s go see if Tall Friend has come to bring us corn.”

Sure enough, there was Tall Friend, the Indian, coming up the wide, wide river in his canoe. But Sobbit Wimba shivered. How could Tall Friend be so close to that terrible dark water and not drown? Gran Coon said it was because he was so wise and good.

By the time Tall Friend stepped out of his canoe, all the animals were gathered in front of the old oak. He gave broken corn cobs to the squirrels and shucked kernels to the grouse and mice. Sometimes Tall Friend would even bring corn meal for the grouse chicks and the mice whose teeth were worn out. But the biggest, fatest cobs he would always give to Gran Coon. He knew she would save them and share them with the littler animals.

“Isn’t Tall Friend kind to us?” Gran Coon whispered in Sobbit’s ear. “We have no reason to worry, do we?”

“But someday Tall Friend might forget us,” Sobbit Wimba said, as he watched the canoe glide away. “What will we do then?”

“Be thankful today and don’t worry about tomorrow, you Sobbit Rabbit!” Gran Coon scolded. “Besides, Tall Friend never forgets.”

One rainy day Sobbit Wimba was sitting in the oak hollow, staring at the wide, wide river. “I’m sure it will come and get me someday,” he said.

“There is no reason to worry, Sobbit dear,” Gran Coon said.

But just then the grouse came by. “Have you seen how high the river is?” clucked Mother Grouse. “The grass bank is underwater now,” chirped one chick. The others flapped their wings excitedly. “Maybe there will be a flood!” Sobbit Wimba closed his eyes and trembled all over. “Whatever happens, it is good to be prepared,” said Father Grouse, drumming his wings importantly. “Grouse Clan, follow me!” With a whir of wings they disappeared over the thicket.

“Silly birds,” Gran Coon said, clicking her teeth. “This old oak is the safest place in high water, and we can always depend on Tall Friend to help us out. Stop your sniffling, Sobbit. If the water gets high, we may have guests tonight!”

It wasn’t long before there was a squeak at the door and three little mice scurried in. “Welcome, welcome!” Gran Coon chuckled. “We have plenty of room to spare. Find a corner and make yourselves a nest.”

“Thank you,” they said gratefully. “Our cousins’ burrow was washed away this morning, and the rain has flooded our home.”

“Aren’t you afraid?” Sobbit Wimba asked them, trembling.

“Of course!” they squeaked, rolling their little eyes. “The hawks are always out to get us and the squirrels often steal our food. Except for the Tall Friend and Gran Coon, we would have a hard life.”

“Since this is my last corn cob, I expect Tall Friend will be coming along soon,” said Gran Coon, as she cheerfully passing out corn kernels. “He always knows when we are running short of supplies.” She hardly seemed to notice when five more mice joined them. “Did I ever tell you about when Tall Friend rescued me?” she asked. “I was a little kit, no bigger than Sobbit here,” she began, “and a floating log had carried me out into the river.” Sobbit Wimba stopped shaking for once to listen.

Gran Coon was in the middle of her story when a squirrel poked his head in the hollow, “Tell Tale, the crow, just fl-flew over with a flood!” he stuttered, “I m-mean a water watch for high warning!” With a flick of his fluffy tail, he disappeared.

Everyone looked at Gran Coon. “All this worry and fright doesn’t help anyone,” she sighed, “but if there is a warning I’d better go hear it.” She climbed outside with Sobbit Wimba following close behind.

The squirrels were chattering so loudly that at first they couldn’t understand a thing.

“What is the trouble?” Gran Coon demanded loudly.

Finally the biggest squirrel, Nut-Head, climbed down the trunk to explain things. “Tell Tale flew over with a flood warning,” he announced. “He says that the river is coming up to swallow us!” At that bit of news all the creatures that were gathered around the old oak put up such a racket that nothing could be heard for five whole minutes. Poor Sobbit Wimba trembled so violently with fright that he tumbled right over.

At last Father Grouse drummed his wings and everyone quieted down.

“I say we’d better shut up and listen to Gran Coon!” he said. “She’s the oldest creature here and might have some good advice.”

“How can an old coon help stop the river?” Chit-Chatter the squirrel asked scornfully. “I say we’d best all take care for ourselves!”

“But what about us?” a little mouse asked. “We can’t swim or fly across the river. We can’t even climb up into the tree branches for safety!”

“The mouse is right,” Father Grouse said. “The river is too wide for any of us to cross, but working together we can succeed.”

“Well, what does Gran Coon have to say?” demanded Nut-Head.

“This oak is the highest and driest place whenever the river rises and there is room for everyone,” said Gran Coon. “I say we all stay here until Tall Friend comes, and share what we have with the smaller animals—”

“Hah!” Nut-Head interrupted. “If I share my nest with a bunch of mice and let them eat off my corn cobs, would it save me from the flood?”

Sobbit Wimba looked at the dark water rushing by and shuddered. The wide, wide river really did look like it would swallow up the island! Whatever Gran Coon said, he was sure that Tall Friend himself could not help them now.

“Well, it’s time we settled in for the night,” Gran Coon said briskly. “Nut-Head, I’d appreciate it if you could spare us a cob or some acorns.” She boosted Sobbit Wimba into the hollow and gave directions to the mice. “Pack plenty of moss in the high loft,” she instructed. “We want all of our guests to be cozy tonight.” Gran Coon poked her head out of the hollow and then clucked to herself, “I do hope Nut-Head will send something down for supper.”

Sobbit Wimba didn’t feel hungry. He was sure he would be dead by morning anyway. The river would get him first, and he would tumble over and over—

“Sobbit!” Gran Coon interrupted his thoughts. “Didn’t I tell you once to bury a corn cob for a time of trouble? Hop outside and look, will you?”

Sobbit Wimba couldn’t move. He tried to say something, but his teeth only chattered together with fear.

“Whatever is the trouble now, Sobbit?” Gran Coon asked, scooping him up in her paws. “The only thing to be afraid of is losing your courage.” Then she looked at him kindly, “But you’ve never had much of it, poor thing. I do believe I’ll have to have the courage for both of us! Now you just take a rest and I’ll have the mice squeak you a story.” With that she tucked him into a nest of moss and climbed out of the hollow.

When Gran Coon returned, Sobbit Wimba was beginning to feel hungry. “Did you find the cob?” he whispered, sitting up. She smiled and shook her head.

Sobbit Wimba was going to ask more when he heard the sloshing of the water. It was right outside the hollow. “Don’t tremble so,” Gran Coon said softly. “We’ll be dry in the high loft tonight and Tall Friend will surely come tomorrow.”

Sobbit Wimba didn’t sleep well. He kept dreaming of cold water swirling around him, trying to pull him into the wide, wide river. “Help!” he squealed.

Suddenly he felt Gran Coon’s paw on his shoulder. “Help is here,” she said with a chuckle. “Wake up, little Sobbit! Come down and see!”

Sobbit Wimba was afraid to open his eyes. “But the water!” he moaned.

“It hasn’t drowned us yet,” Gran Coon said. “And Tall Friend has come to take us to safety! Hurry now.”

Tall Friend! Suddenly Sobbit Wimba was very much awake. All around him he heard the mice squeaking excitedly. “Hurry! Let’s go!” “Where?” “To the canoe!” “Won’t we be scared? “Not with Tall Friend!”

It took all of Sobbit Wimba’s courage just to creep down from his bed, but he couldn’t bear to look outside. He trembled as he watched all the mice scramble out of the hollow after Gran Coon. He was sure that he would be left behind and drown, just as he had always thought.

“Aren’t you coming, Sobbit?” Gran Coon poked her head back in the hollow. “Tall Friend’s canoe is perfectly safe. He is waiting for you!” Sure enough, Sobbit Wimba could see Tall Friend’s hand held out to him through the hollow doorway. Beyond him was dark swirling water. He closed his eyes and shuddered. Could he trust Tall Friend to keep him safe?

He put one trembling paw forward, then another. “I will go to Tall Friend,” he told himself. “I will not look at the water.”

In another moment he felt a big hand lift him gently. The next thing he knew, Sobbit Wimba was lying in a basket of soft grass, inside the canoe. Gran Coon peered down at him and chuckled. “Well, isn’t this just wonderful,” she began, when suddenly the canoe lurched and the great old oak disappeared from sight. Sobbit Wimba looked up in surprise. All he could see was Tall Friend’s kind face smiling at him. He could see no river at all.

Soon Gran Coon was passing out the corn kernels that Tall Friend had brought along. The little mice began nibbling happily.

“But where are Nut-Head and his friends?” Sobbit Wimba asked. “Didn’t they want to come?”

The old raccoon shook her head sadly. “They said they wouldn’t leave the island, and neither would the grouse family. The silly things thought they could take care of themselves.” She clicked her teeth, then smiled down at Sobbit Wimba. “Aren’t you glad that you came?”

“I didn’t know that Tall Friend’s canoe was so nice,” he replied. “I think it must have swallowed up the river!”

Gran Coon chuckled and Sobbit Wimba snuggled down into the grass with a happy little sigh. For once, he wasn’t even afraid. Tall Friend was even stronger and wiser than Gran Coon herself!