The Rabbit and the Yellow Scarf

The first snow had fallen in the afternoon. By evening the hill behind the village was white all the way to the hedge. Oona Rabbit was following her own footprints home when she saw something yellow caught on a twig. It was a long scarf with a knot at one end. She pulled the knot free and folded the scarf twice, but one end still dragged in the snow.

Oona knew three neighbors who wore scarves. Mr. Mole had a gray one, Mrs. Wren had one with red stripes, and her friend Bram wore whatever he found by the door. It could have belonged to Bram. She turned round and looked for his tracks. There were no fresh tracks on the hill except hers and a line of little holes where a bird had been looking for seeds.

At the bottom of the hill she met Mr. Mole standing by his gate. He had taken off his gloves to move the latch. Oona asked if the scarf was his. Mr. Mole felt the wool between his fingers. “Mine is rougher than this,” he said. He put his gloves back on and showed her the knot. The yellow scarf had a piece of thread tied around the fringe. He thought somebody might have used it to tell two scarves apart.

Oona went to Bram’s house next. Bram was setting a small bowl of water on the step for the birds. He had a yellow scarf on already. It had a thread tied around the fringe as well. For a moment they stood under the lamp holding the two knots together. Bram’s thread was blue. The one Oona had found was green.

“My cousin made both of them,” Bram said. “The green one was meant for somebody down by the mill. I don’t remember who.” He offered to come along and held up the trailing end while they walked. Their feet made different sounds in the snow because Oona stepped lightly and Bram took longer strides.

At the mill, nobody came when they knocked. There was a warm light above the door and a broom leaning outside. The snow had been swept into a small ridge along the path. Oona noticed another strip of yellow hanging from the broom. She went closer and found it was a string, the same green thread tied around its end. Somebody had used it to mend the handle.

A door opened in the smaller building next to the mill. Pippa Mouse came out carrying a tin. She looked up when she heard them and raised a paw to her neck. “Did you find it by the hedge?” she asked. “I stopped there to put my mittens on.” Oona handed the scarf to her. Wrapped once, it reached Pippa’s feet. Wrapped twice, it fit just right.

Pippa had been bringing Bram’s cousin a tin of buttons to use for winter coats. She offered to walk back with them. Halfway up the lane they stopped by a wall where the snow was too thin to cover the bricks. The three of them looked up at the hill. From below, the bare twigs along the hedge seemed to have little lights on them. Oona could see exactly where she had stopped.

At her gate Oona said goodbye and waited until the others had gone around the bend. She went inside and found her own scarf on its hook, where it always hung. It had no thread on the end. She took a bit of purple thread from the sewing basket and tied it around the last tassel, taking her time to make the knot small. Then she hung the scarf up again and went upstairs.

Snow had covered her old footprints by the time she looked out of the window. She could still see a pale mark where the lantern lit the gate. She left the curtain open while she got into bed. The scarf on its hook downstairs was dry and ready for morning.