trees?”

  “Caw,” said the crow, “I didn’t want to frighten you.”

  “But I’m very frightened,” said the doe. “I think we should leave the forest right now, before it’s too late.”

  Digger crawled over to rabbit and said, “Hopper, what did you see? You said you heard the huffing and puffing and the ground was shaking and the trees were trembling, then you came out of your burrow, then you went to the edge of the forest and it was gone.” Digger scratched his head. “Well, Hopper, what did you see?”

  Hopper hopped three times and said, “They were gone. The trees at the edge of the forest. Gone. Eaten. Chewed up.”

  “That’s scary,” said the doe. “Trees, chewed up? Is that possible? Can anything really eat a whole tree?”

  “Caw, I saw it,” said the crow.

  “Eating trees?” said Hopper. “You saw the giant eating trees?”

  “Caw, yes,” the crow said.

  “And you didn’t tell us?” cried the doe. “You saw it eating trees and you didn’t even tell us?”

  “I didn’t want to frighten you,” said the crow.

  Digger took off his hat and waved it in the air. The others all stopped talking and looked at the little worm.

  “Listen,” Digger said, and he pointed to the crow. “This bird can fly. He can see everything there is to see. The giant can’t reach as high as the bird can fly. This bird can ...”

  “Caw,” said the crow, “Dumb worm. Don’t call me ‘this bird’. My name is Crow because that’s what I am. It’s a perfectly good name and it’s what I am. I am a crow and my name is Crow ... so don’t call me ‘this bird’.”

  “I am very sorry,” Digger said. “I’ll call you Crow and you can call me Digger. Don’t call me ‘dumb worm’. My name is Digger and it’s a perfectly good name and that’s what I do. I dig, so my name is Digger, so don’t call me ‘dumb worm’.”

  “Good for you!” shouted the doe, jumping up and down on her thin legs. “And you can call me Legs because I have such long legs. That’s my name. Legs.”

  “Caw,” said the crow. “Okay, okay, we can call each other Hopper and Legs and Crow and Digger.” Then the crow turned to Digger and said. “Okay, keep going.”

  “Going?” said Digger. “Going where? I was digging, to find a new place and ...”

  “No, no, no!” screamed the crow. “You were saying something. So keep talking. What were you saying?”

  “I don’t remember,” said Digger. “Was I saying something?”

  “Yes, yes,” said Legs. “You were talking about the giant who eats trees.”

  “What was I saying?” said Digger.

  Hopper hopped three times. “You said Crow could fly higher than the giant and that he ...”

  “Yeah, yeah,” shouted Digger. “I remember now.” He straightened his hat and stood as tall as he could and said, “Because Crow can fly high above the treetops, and the giant can’t reach that high, then he should watch to see what the giant is doing and how many trees it’s eating and how fast it’s moving and ...”

  “Yes, yes,” said Legs. “Crow, can you do that?”

  “Caw, yes.”

  “But,” said Hopper, “this time you must tell us what you see.”

  “Caw, yes.”

  “Then we can decide what to do,” Digger said.

  Crow flapped his wings and stared at the little worm. “There is nothing we can do. Soon our forest will be eaten. Chewed up. Gone. Then, dumb worm, you can go home and tell your mommy and daddy that you saw a new place without a single tree, without a single animal, without birds or rabbits or deer. That should make you very happy. A new place. Isn’t that what you wanted to see?”

  And Crow flew away, straight up beyond the treetops, and they didn’t see him for a long while.

  Legs patted Digger on the head. “I’m sorry, Digger,” she said. “Crow isn’t really such a mean old bird. Sometimes he’s quite nice. I think he’s just worried that his home will be eaten by the monster.”

  “Digger,” Hopper the rabbit said, “you’re not a dumb worm at all. In fact I’m happy you’re here with us. Maybe you can help. Humm, gracious, I don’t know how ... but maybe, if we all think together, maybe we can do something.”

  “Something?” said Digger. “Do something about what?”

  “Have you forgotten already?” Legs said. “Oh, Digger, you have such a short memory? You forget even the most important things.”

  “A short worm and a short memory,” said Digger. “That’s me!”

  Hopper said, “I think we should sleep now. It’s late and we need to get some rest. Digger? You are welcome to sleep in my burrow. There’s lots of room.”

  Hopper jumped into his burrow and Digger followed him down. Legs waited for a few minutes, looked around at the dark forest, at the long black shadows, at the branches shaking in the trees and she was afraid. Then she looked down the hole.

  “I wish I could sleep down there too,” she said. “But it’s much too small.” So Legs simply found a bush that wasn’t too far away and creeped under and lay down with her head resting on her long legs.

  But she didn’t sleep for a long time. Every time a leaf fell from a tree she started to shake. Every time a small branch fell from a tree she cried a little.

  What would she do if the giant came to this part of her forest?

  Did it really eat trees?

  Was that possible?

  Legs closed her eyes. She tried not to think of the monster any more.

  Afer a while she fell asleep.