Copyright © 2011 A.T. Sorsa
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
Thank you for downloading this ebook. Although this is an ebook, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.
Out in the tall, dry grass hidden among the moss covered rocks is the tiny home of the brownish-grey, little mice. The mice had constructed a cozy cup-shaped nest of shredded plants, fur, and feathers under rocks.
Especially one particular mouse lived in this tiny hole. She was called Matilda. She had a soft, luxuriant brownish-grey fur, and a tail as long as her entire body. She had long, soft grey whiskers and deep, dark eyes that reflected everything she saw around her.
“You are too big to live with us now. You need to go and start your own life and a new home for yourself,” Matilda’s mother had told her that same morning, and wiped her eyes with a white handkerchief. Matilda’s mother was sad to see her children go away. But she had no choice. The tiny nest was too small for all of them. She had had four litters that year and all the little mice kids had stayed at home.
First, Matilda did not know what to do and where to go. It was sad to leave a familiar home and her siblings.
“Too many mice are like playing a dice: you never know what you get…” Matilda’s father muttered. “There are ten of us now. It is just too many mouths to feed,” Matilda’s father had said as he stroked Matilda’s fur with his own long, grayish tail to show his affection. He had a darker grayish-brown fur than what Matilda had, and his whiskers were almost white.
“Maybe there is a nice place behind those blue mountains,” Matilda’s mother had suggested.
“Yes, maybe you can find a nice place to live with plenty of juicy mouse food there,” Matilda’s father had added. He thought about the summertime and the tasty and juicy beetles and the other insects, the crunchy seeds, and the fat earthworms they had enjoyed all the way until the autumn came and the litter grew older and bigger. Now, the food was scarce, and there were too many mice living in the same nest. They could not survive the winter time with all of the last litter living with them. They had to let the oldest mice siblings go and find their own home to live.
“I hope that there are also fewer predators to chase mice,” Matilda’s mother had murmured to herself. The mice mother had not had time to tell about the predators. She had only mentioned that there are hawks and owls that Matilda should be aware of and that they can eat mice.
Matilda had no idea what these mice-eating hawks and owls even looked like. She imagined that the hawks and owls were green like grass so that she would have hard time to see them. Maybe they would smell sour and rancid, and she would recognize them by the smell, she thought. She did not know that there can be predators of more than one kind: those who come by foot, and those who use their wings, and also those long, slithering creatures who forage for prey in tall grass areas.
It would be quite terrible to meet any mice-eating predators, Matilda thought.
Matilda had tears in her big, black eyes as she said goodbye to her siblings and her parents and left the familiar home.
“Onward through many a scary field and forest, though my paws may blister and get sore and my whiskers may droop. Oh! The places I'll see! The food I’ll eat!" Matilda said, pretending to be happy when she parted.
She turned her head once to view her familiar birth home that she probably would never see again. She sniffed as she turned away and started walking alone towards the unknown, towards the blue mountains.
The fallen down, dried leaves and needles rustled when she crossed the field and walked away from her home. Matilda padded along sad and alone. When she crossed the sand, she left behind small paw prints on the ground.
Matilda avoided large, open areas. Her mother had told that open areas were dangerous, because the predators would see her, and she could not hide from them. If the predators would capture her, she would be helpless.
Matilda was lonely. She started inventing a rhyme. She added new verses in her rhyme because she had nothing else to do but to walk, walk, walk. It was boring. No one to talk to. No one to keep her company. She recited her rhyme out loud:
“My name is Matilda,
Not Clotida, Hilda, or Grishilda.
I’m just a little mouse