Running here and there along the bank, she kept sniffing and whining.
I heard when she started digging. I looked around. She was ten feet from the water’s edge.
I got up and went over to her. She was digging in a small hole about the size of a big apple.
It was the air hole for a muskrat den. I pulled Little Ann away from the hole, knelt down, and put my ear to it.
I could hear something, and feel a vibration in the ground. It was an eerie sound and seemed to be coming from far away.
I listened. Finally I understood what the noise was. It was the voice of Old Dan.
Little Ann had opened the hole up enough with her digging so his voice could be heard faintly.
In some way he had gotten into that old muskrat den.
I knew that down under the bank, in the water, the entrance to the den could be found.
Rolling up my sleeve, I tried to find it with my hand.
I had no luck. It was too far down. There was only one thing to do.
Leaving my ax and lantern, I ran for home. Picking up a long-handled shovel, I hurried back.
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