the best time ever. Finally Whitefoot ran along the old bench and
jumped from the end of it for a box standing on end, which Farmer
Brown's boy sometimes used to sit on. It wasn't a very long jump,
but somehow Whitefoot misjudged it. He was heedless, and he didn't
jump quite far enough. Right beside that box was a tin pail half
filled with sap. Instead of landing on the box, Whitefoot landed
with a splash in that pail of sap.



CHAPTER VII: Whitefoot Gives Up Hope

Whitefoot had been in many tight places. Yes, indeed, Whitefoot had
been in many tight places. He had had narrow escapes of all kinds.
But never had he felt so utterly hopeless as now. The moment he
landed in that sap, Whitefoot began to swim frantically. He isn't a
particularly good swimmer, but he could swim well enough to keep
afloat for a while. His first thought was to scramble up the side
of the tin pail, but when he reached it and tried to fasten his
sharp little claws into it in order to climb, he discovered that he
couldn't. Sharp as they were, his little claws just slipped, and
his struggles to get up only resulted in tiring him out and in
plunging him wholly beneath the sap. He came up choking and
gasping. Then round and round inside that pail he paddled, stopping
every two or three seconds to try to climb up that hateful, smooth,
shiny wall.

The more he tried to climb out, the more frightened he became.

He was in a perfect panic of fear. He quite lost his head,