- Who lives in my house?
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- Performer: Nikolay Litvinov
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What a cute little hollow! - Woodpecker cried. - It’s immediately obvious: my work! Does anyone live in it now? Hey, answer me!
There was no sound in response. The Woodpecker tapped his nose on the threshold of the hollow. And from the hollow - Mouse! The nose is sharp, the eyes are bulging, the ears are bare. And the mustache shines.
Who's knocking here and won't let me sleep?
The woodpecker recoiled:
There are mice in my house! If I had known, I wouldn’t have hollowed out the hollow.
But I, Woodpecker, am not a Mouse at all. Have you seen my tail? Do you want me to show you the tail? - And she stuck her tail out of the hollow - fluffy! And mice, as you know, have hairless tails.
So who are you if you’re not a Mouse? - Woodpecker doesn’t believe.
Sonya I am. Garden dormouse. Such a rodent.
Sadovaya, do you live in the forest?
I live where I want.
I didn’t hollow out the hollow for you, but for the hollow-nesting birds.
What should I do? I'm Sonya, I love to sleep, and where better to sleep than in a hollow tree? You can’t lie on the ground and catch a cold.
The woodpecker doesn't know what to say.
And Sonya has hers:
Do you think that only birds live in your hollows? Check it out! I’ll leave the hollow myself if there are only birds.
The Woodpecker flew into the aspen forest: there he had most of the hollows hollowed out. He clung to the last one and shouted:
Hey, tenant, show yourself! It's me, Woodpecker the Home Builder. I want to see who has settled in my hollow.
Something incomprehensible stuck out of the hollow - a wing or a flap? Something leather that looks like it’s been strung together on knitting needles. What kind of bird?
Don't be afraid! - the animal chirps. - I'm just a bat. Thank you for the hollow!
But the Woodpecker was already far away, he was knocking on the third hollow. He knocked and became alert: it was unknown who was hiding in the hollow there!
Don't knock, don't be deaf - I hear! - they say from the hollow. - Who it?
Who are you? - The woodpecker asks. - Do you run or fly?
I climb. I also run and fly.
Well, the residents! - Woodpecker gasped. - Some kind of sleepyheads that look like mice. Some kind of mice, similar to birds. And before you know it, he’s climbing, running and flying! And I dug hollows for such people!
Don’t be sorry, Woodpecker, nose - it’s better to have pity on us, - is heard from the hollow. - Birdhouses and nest boxes are hung for hollow-nesting birds, and we have all our hope in you. And we are only beneficial for the forest.
At least give your name! - Woodpecker became bolder. - Or lean out for a minute.
“I’m nocturnal,” one can hear dully from the hollow. - I'm sleeping now. Come in the evening and you will see. And they call me Poletukha, Flying Squirrel, and more often - Flying Squirrel. I spread my paws, spread myself out, stretch out the folds on my sides - and plan. To everyone's surprise!
Three hollows, but not a single bird! - Woodpecker calculated.
He flies up to the fourth, he wanted to attach himself, but the hollow... is buzzing! It buzzes angrily: don't come near.
Bees live in a hollow. So they swarm at the entrance: back and forth, back and forth! From the hollow, briskly and lightly, into the hollow, heavily - with pollen pollen. Now this is their hollow - try to touch it!
The woodpecker didn’t even ask: it was already clear. Not animals, not birds - insects took up residence. And they are also not useless: they pollinate flowers and collect honey. Let them live.
You win! - the Woodpecker shouted to the Garden Dormouse. - And I thought that I only give houses to hollow-nesting birds. And there are other hollow nests in the forest. And what other strange things: bat mice and flying squirrels, hard-working bees and lazy dormouse...
“I may be lazy,” Sonya was not offended, “but I do things no worse than others, I eat harmful bugs. And she deserves your housing.
Live! - Woodpecker shouted. - Everyone live - don’t mind, I’ll build houses for everyone! - Yes, when he started knocking, only chips fell. Soon someone else will have a hollow apartment. But to whom is still unknown. While the Woodpecker himself does not know about it.
Who lives in my house?
What a cute little hollow! - Woodpecker cried. - It’s immediately obvious: my work! Does anyone live in it now? Hey, answer me!
There was no sound in response. The Woodpecker tapped his nose on the threshold of the hollow. And from the hollow - Mouse! The nose is sharp, the eyes are bulging, the ears are bare. And the mustache shines.
- Who's knocking here and won't let me sleep?
The woodpecker recoiled:
- There are mice in my house! If I had known, I wouldn’t have hollowed out the hollow.
- But I, Woodpecker, am not a Mouse at all. Have you seen my tail? Do you want me to show you the tail? - And she stuck her tail out of the hollow - fluffy! And mice, as you know, have hairless tails.
- So who are you if you’re not a Mouse? - Woodpecker doesn’t believe.
- Sonya, I am. Garden dormouse. Such a rodent.
- Sadovaya, do you live in the forest?
- Wherever I want, that’s where I live.
- I didn’t hollow out the hollow for you, but for the hollow-nesting birds.
- What should I do? I'm Sonya, I love to sleep, and where better to sleep than in a hollow tree? You can’t lie on the ground and catch a cold.
The woodpecker doesn't know what to say.
And Sonya has hers:
- Do you think that only birds live in your hollows? Check it out! I’ll leave the hollow myself if there are only birds.
The Woodpecker flew into the aspen forest: there he had most of the hollows hollowed out. He clung to the last one and shouted:
- Hey, tenant, show yourself! It's me, Woodpecker the Home Builder. I want to see who has settled in my hollow.
Something incomprehensible stuck out of the hollow - a wing or a flap? Something leather that looks like it’s been strung together on knitting needles. What kind of bird?
- I'm an animal, not a bird! - the voice chirps. And a body appeared - covered in wool! A bared mouth with teeth, ears like mugs. The woodpecker even closed his eyes in fear.
- Don't be afraid! - the animal chirps. - I'm just a bat. Thank you for the hollow!
But the Woodpecker was already far away, he was knocking on the third hollow. He knocked and became alert: it was unknown who was hiding in the hollow there!
- Don't knock, I'm not deaf - I hear! - they say from the hollow. - Who it?
-Who are you? - The woodpecker asks. - Do you run or fly?
- I climb. I also run and fly.
- Well, the residents! - Woodpecker gasped. - Some kind of dormouse, similar to mice. Some kind of mice, similar to birds. And before you know it, he’s climbing, running and flying! And I dug hollows for such people!
“Don’t be sorry, Woodpecker, nose - it’s better to have pity on us,” is heard from the hollow. - Birdhouses and nest boxes are hung for hollow-nesting birds, and we have all our hope in you. And we are only beneficial for the forest.
- At least give your name! - Woodpecker became bolder. - Or lean out for a minute.
“I’m nocturnal,” one can hear dully from the hollow. - I'm sleeping now. Come in the evening and you will see. And they call me Poletukha, Flying Squirrel, and more often - Flying Squirrel. I spread my paws, spread myself out, stretch out the folds on my sides - and plan. To everyone's surprise!
- Three hollows, but not a single bird! - Woodpecker calculated.
He flies up to the fourth, he wanted to attach himself, but the hollow... is buzzing! It buzzes angrily: don't come near.
Bees live in a hollow. So they swarm at the entrance: back and forth, back and forth! From the hollow, briskly and lightly, into the hollow, heavily - with pollen pollen. Now this is their hollow - try to touch it!
The woodpecker didn’t even ask: it was already clear. Not animals, not birds - insects took up residence. And they are also not useless: they pollinate flowers and collect honey. Let them live.
- You win! - the Woodpecker shouted to the Garden Dormouse. - And I thought that I only give houses to hollow-nesting birds. And there are other hollow nests in the forest. And what other strange things: bat mice and flying squirrels, hard-working bees and lazy dormouse...
“I may be lazy,” Sonya was not offended, “but I do things no worse than others, I eat harmful bugs.” And she deserves your housing.
- Live! - Woodpecker shouted. - Everyone live - don’t mind, I’ll build houses for everyone! - Yes, when he started knocking, only chips fell. Soon someone else will have a hollow apartment. But to whom is still unknown. While the Woodpecker himself does not know about it.
Dancer
What a great weather! Rain, slush, cold, just - brrrr!.. In such weather, a good owner will not let the dog out of the house.
I decided not to release mine either. Let him sit at home and warm himself. And he took the binoculars, dressed warmly, pulled the hood over his forehead - and went! It’s still interesting to see what the animal does in such bad weather.
And as soon as I left the outskirts, I saw a fox! Mouses - hunts for mice. It prowls through the stubble: its back is arched, its head and tail are towards the ground - well, a pure rocker.
She lay down on her belly, her ears upright, and crawled: apparently she heard the voles. Now they crawl out of their holes every now and then to collect grain for the winter.
Suddenly the fox jumped up in front, then fell with its front paws and nose to the ground, jerked - a black lump flew up. The fox opened its toothy mouth and caught the mouse in flight. And she swallowed it without even chewing it.
And suddenly she started dancing! Jumps on all four, as if on springs. Then suddenly he jumps on his hind legs like a circus dog: up and down, up and down! She wags her tail and sticks out her pink tongue with zeal.
I’ve been lying there for a long time, watching her through binoculars. My ear is close to the ground - I hear her paws stomping. He was covered in mud himself. I don’t understand why she’s dancing!
In this weather, just sit at home, in a warm, dry hole! And what kind of tricks does she pull out with her feet!
I got tired of getting wet - I jumped up to my full height. The fox saw it and barked in fright. Maybe she even bit her tongue. Get into the bushes - I was the only one who saw her!
I walked around the stubble and, like a fox, kept looking at my feet. Nothing remarkable: soil soaked from rain, rusty stems. Then I lay down like a fox on my stomach: wouldn’t I see something? I see: a lot of mouse holes. I hear mice squeaking in their holes. Then I jumped to my feet and let’s dance the fox dance! I jump up on the spot and stamp my feet.
Just then the frightened field mice will jump out of the ground! They shy away from side to side, bump into each other, squeak piercingly... Eh, if I were a fox, then...
What can I say: I realized what a hunt I had ruined for the fox.
She danced - she didn’t spoil her, she drove mice out of their holes... She would have had a feast here for the whole world!
It turns out what animal tricks you can recognize in this weather: fox dancing! I would spit on the rain and the cold, I would go to observe other animals, but I would feel sorry for my dog. It’s a shame I didn’t take it with me. He's bored, I guess, in the warmth under the roof.
Who Lives in My House is a story by Nikolai Sladkov, which has been of interest to children for decades. In it, the builder woodpecker goes to check what birds live in the hollows he has hollowed out. Who does he find in the “houses” he created? What kind of residents meet the builder in them, and what did the woodpecker decide at the end of its flight? Read about all the meetings of the woodpecker with the inhabitants in the hollows along with the guys in the fairy tale. The work will introduce them to the amazing diversity of the animal world, teach them to be generous, friendly, attentive and hardworking.
- What a cute little hollow! - the Woodpecker cried. — It’s immediately obvious: my work! Does anyone live in it now? Hey, answer me!
There was no sound in response. The Woodpecker tapped his nose on the threshold of the hollow. And from the hollow - Mouse! The nose is sharp, the eyes are bulging, the ears are bare. And the mustache shines.
“Who’s knocking here and won’t let me sleep?”
The woodpecker recoiled:
— There are mice in my house! If I had known, I wouldn’t have hollowed out the hollow.
- But I, Woodpecker, am not a Mouse at all. Have you seen my tail? Do you want me to show you the tail? - And she stuck her tail out of the hollow - fluffy! And mice, as you know, have hairless tails.
- So who are you, if you’re not a Mouse? - Woodpecker doesn’t believe.
- Sonya, I am. Garden dormouse. Such a rodent.
— Sadovaya, do you live in the forest?
“Wherever I want, that’s where I live.”
“I didn’t hollow out the hollow for you, but for the hollow-nesting birds.”
- What should I do? I'm Sonya, I love to sleep, and where better to sleep than in a hollow tree? You can’t lie on the ground and catch a cold.
The woodpecker doesn't know what to say.
And Sonya has hers:
- Do you think that only birds live in your hollows? Check it out! I’ll leave the hollow myself if there are only birds.
The Woodpecker flew into the aspen forest: there he had most of the hollows hollowed out. He clung to the last one and shouted:
- Hey, tenant, show yourself! It's me, Woodpecker the Home Builder. I want to see who has settled in my hollow.
Something incomprehensible stuck out of the hollow - a wing or a flap? Something leather that looks like it’s been strung together on knitting needles. What kind of bird?
- Don't be afraid! - the animal chirps. - I'm just a bat. Thank you for the hollow!
But the Woodpecker was already far away, he was knocking on the third hollow. He knocked and became alert: it was unknown who was hiding in the hollow there!
- Don't knock, don't be deaf - I hear! - they say from the hollow. - Who it?
-Who are you? - The woodpecker asks. — Do you run or fly?
- I climb. I also run and fly.
- Well, the residents! - Woodpecker gasped. - Some kind of dormouse, similar to mice. Some kind of mice, similar to birds. And before you know it, he’s climbing, running and flying! And I dug hollows for such people!
“Don’t be sorry, Woodpecker, nose - it’s better to have pity on us,” is heard from the hollow. “For hollow-nesting birds, birdhouses and nest boxes are hung, but we have all our hope in you.” And we are only beneficial for the forest.
- At least give your name! - Woodpecker became bolder. - Or lean out for a minute.
“I’m nocturnal,” one can hear dully from the hollow. - I'm sleeping now. Come here in the evening and you will see. And they call me Poletukha, Flying Squirrel, and more often - Flying Squirrel. I spread my paws, spread myself out, stretch out the folds on my sides - and plan. To everyone's surprise!
- Three hollows, but not a single bird! - Woodpecker calculated.
He flies up to the fourth, he wanted to attach himself, but the hollow... is buzzing! It buzzes angrily: don't come near.
Bees live in a hollow. So they swarm at the entrance: back and forth, back and forth! Out of the hollow briskly and lightly, into the hollow heavily - with pollen pollen. Now this is their hollow - try to touch it!
The woodpecker didn’t even ask: it was already clear. Not animals, not birds - insects took up residence. And they are also not useless: they pollinate flowers and collect honey. Let them live.
- You win! - the Woodpecker shouted to the Garden Dormouse. “But I thought that I only give houses to hollow-nesting birds.” And there are other hollow nests in the forest. And what other strange things: bat mice and flying squirrels, hard-working bees and lazy dormouse...
“I may be lazy,” Sonya was not offended, “but I do my job no worse than others, I eat harmful bugs.” And she deserves your housing.
- Live! - Woodpecker shouted. - Everyone live - don’t mind, I’ll build houses for everyone! - Yes, when he started knocking, only chips fell. Soon someone else will have a hollow apartment. But to whom is still unknown. While the Woodpecker himself does not know about it.
Page 13 of 15
Who lives in my house?
What a cute little hollow! - Woodpecker cried. - It’s immediately obvious: my work! Does anyone live in it now? Hey, answer me!
There was no sound in response. The Woodpecker tapped his nose on the threshold of the hollow. And from the hollow - Mouse! The nose is sharp, the eyes are bulging, the ears are bare. And the mustache shines.
- Who's knocking here and won't let me sleep?
The woodpecker recoiled:
- There are mice in my house! If I had known, I wouldn’t have hollowed out the hollow.
- But I, Woodpecker, am not a Mouse at all. Have you seen my tail? Do you want me to show you the tail? - And she stuck her tail out of the hollow - fluffy! And mice, as you know, have hairless tails.
- So who are you if you’re not a Mouse? - Woodpecker doesn’t believe.
- Sonya, I am. Garden dormouse. Such a rodent.
- Sadovaya, do you live in the forest?
- Wherever I want, that’s where I live.
- I didn’t hollow out the hollow for you, but for the hollow-nesting birds.
- What should I do? I'm Sonya, I love to sleep, and where better to sleep than in a hollow tree? You can’t lie on the ground and catch a cold.
The woodpecker doesn't know what to say.
And Sonya has hers:
- Do you think that only birds live in your hollows? Check it out! I’ll leave the hollow myself if there are only birds.
The Woodpecker flew into the aspen forest: there he had most of the hollows hollowed out. He clung to the last one and shouted:
- Hey, tenant, show yourself! It's me, Woodpecker the Home Builder. I want to see who has settled in my hollow.
Something incomprehensible stuck out of the hollow - a wing or a flap? Something leather that looks like it’s been strung together on knitting needles. What kind of bird?
- I'm an animal, not a bird! - the voice chirps. And a body appeared - covered in wool! A bared mouth with teeth, ears like mugs. The woodpecker even closed his eyes in fear.
- Don't be afraid! - the animal chirps. - I'm just a bat. Thank you for the hollow!
But the Woodpecker was already far away, he was knocking on the third hollow. He knocked and became alert: it was unknown who was hiding in the hollow there!
- Don't knock, I'm not deaf - I hear! - they say from the hollow. - Who it?
-Who are you? - The woodpecker asks. - Do you run or fly?
- I climb. I also run and fly.
- Well, the residents! - Woodpecker gasped. - Some kind of dormouse, similar to mice. Some kind of mice, similar to birds. And before you know it, he’s climbing, running and flying! And I dug hollows for such people!
“Don’t be sorry, Woodpecker, nose - it’s better to have pity on us,” is heard from the hollow. - Birdhouses and nest boxes are hung for hollow-nesting birds, and we have all our hope in you. And we are only beneficial for the forest.
- At least give your name! - Woodpecker became bolder. - Or lean out for a minute.
“I’m nocturnal,” one can hear dully from the hollow. - I'm sleeping now. Come in the evening and you will see. And they call me Poletukha, Flying Squirrel, and more often - Flying Squirrel. I spread my paws, spread myself out, stretch out the folds on my sides - and plan. To everyone's surprise!
- Three hollows, but not a single bird! - Woodpecker calculated.
He flies up to the fourth, he wanted to attach himself, but the hollow... is buzzing! It buzzes angrily: don't come near.
Bees live in a hollow. So they swarm at the entrance: back and forth, back and forth! From the hollow, briskly and lightly, into the hollow, heavily - with pollen pollen. Now this is their hollow - try to touch it!
The woodpecker didn’t even ask: it was already clear. Not animals, not birds - insects took up residence. And they are also not useless: they pollinate flowers and collect honey. Let them live.
- You win! - the Woodpecker shouted to the Garden Dormouse. - And I thought that I only give houses to hollow-nesting birds. And there are other hollow nests in the forest. And what other strange things: bat mice and flying squirrels, hard-working bees and lazy dormouse...
“I may be lazy,” Sonya was not offended, “but I do things no worse than others, I eat harmful bugs.” And she deserves your housing.
- Live! - Woodpecker shouted. - Everyone live - don’t mind, I’ll build houses for everyone! - Yes, when he started knocking, only chips fell. Soon someone else will have a hollow apartment. But to whom is still unknown. While the Woodpecker himself does not know about it.
Dancer
What a great weather! Rain, slush, cold, just - brrrr!.. In such weather, a good owner will not let the dog out of the house.
I decided not to release mine either. Let him sit at home and warm himself. And he took the binoculars, dressed warmly, pulled the hood over his forehead - and went! It’s still interesting to see what the animal does in such bad weather.
And as soon as I left the outskirts, I saw a fox! Mouses - hunts for mice. It prowls through the stubble: its back is arched, its head and tail are towards the ground - well, a pure rocker.
She lay down on her belly, her ears upright, and crawled: apparently she heard the voles. Now they crawl out of their holes every now and then to collect grain for the winter.
Suddenly the fox jumped up in front, then fell with its front paws and nose to the ground, jerked - a black lump flew up. The fox opened its toothy mouth and caught the mouse in flight. And she swallowed it without even chewing it.
And suddenly she started dancing! Jumps on all four, as if on springs. Then suddenly he jumps on his hind legs like a circus dog: up and down, up and down! She wags her tail and sticks out her pink tongue with zeal.
I’ve been lying there for a long time, watching her through binoculars. My ear is close to the ground - I hear her paws stomping. He was covered in mud himself. I don’t understand why she’s dancing!
In this weather, just sit at home, in a warm, dry hole! And what kind of tricks does she pull out with her feet!
I got tired of getting wet - I jumped up to my full height. The fox saw it and barked in fright. Maybe she even bit her tongue. Get into the bushes - I was the only one who saw her!
I walked around the stubble and, like a fox, kept looking at my feet. Nothing remarkable: soil soaked from rain, rusty stems. Then I lay down like a fox on my stomach: wouldn’t I see something? I see: a lot of mouse holes. I hear mice squeaking in their holes. Then I jumped to my feet and let’s dance the fox dance! I jump up on the spot and stamp my feet.
Just then the frightened field mice will jump out of the ground! They shy away from side to side, bump into each other, squeak piercingly... Eh, if I were a fox, then...
What can I say: I realized what a hunt I had ruined for the fox.
She danced - she didn’t spoil her, she drove mice out of their holes... She would have had a feast here for the whole world!
It turns out what animal tricks you can recognize in this weather: fox dancing! I would spit on the rain and the cold, I would go to observe other animals, but I would feel sorry for my dog. It’s a shame I didn’t take it with me. He's bored, I guess, in the warmth under the roof.
Current page: 4 (book has 5 pages in total) [available reading passage: 1 pages]
Mysterious beast
A cat catches mice, a seagull eats fish, a flycatcher eats flies. Tell me what you eat and I will tell you who you are. And I hear a voice:
- Guess who am I? I eat bugs and ants!
I thought and said firmly:
- I didn’t guess! I also eat wasps and bumblebees!
- Yeah! You're a buzzard!
- Not a buzzard! I also eat caterpillars and larvae.
– Blackbirds love caterpillars and larvae.
- And I’m not a thrush! I also gnaw on the antlers shed by moose.
“Then you must be a wood mouse.”
- And not a mouse at all. Sometimes I even eat mice myself!
- Mice? Then, of course, you are a cat.
- Either a mouse or a cat! And you didn't guess right at all.
- Show yourself! – I shouted. And he began to peer into the dark spruce, where the voice was heard.
- I’ll show myself. Just admit yourself defeated.
- It's early! – I answered.
– Sometimes I eat lizards. And occasionally fish.
- Maybe you are a heron?
- Not a heron. I catch chicks and steal eggs from bird nests.
- It looks like you are a marten.
- Don't tell me about the marten. The marten is my old enemy. And I also eat kidneys, nuts, seeds of fir trees and pine trees, berries and mushrooms.
I got angry and shouted:
- Most likely you are a pig! You eat everything. You are a feral pig who stupidly climbed onto the tree!
The branches swayed, parted, and I saw... a squirrel!
- Remember! - she said. – Cats eat not only mice, seagulls catch not only fish, flycatchers swallow more than just flies. And squirrels gnaw not only nuts.
The Mystery of the Birdhouse
Jackdaws live in jackdaws, and tits live in titmouses. And in the birdhouses, of course, there are starlings. Everything is clear and simple. But in the forest it’s rarely easy...
I knew one birdhouse in which lived... a pine cone! She stuck out of the entrance and moved. When I approached the birdhouse, the pine cone in the entrance twitched and hid!
I also hid behind a tree and waited. In vain! Forest secrets cannot be guessed just casually. Forest secrets are hidden behind rains and fogs, hidden behind swamps and windbreaks. Each one is hidden behind seven locks. And it takes patience to get there.
But what kind of patience is there when the pine cone turns in the hole as if it were alive!
I climbed the tree. The birdhouse was filled to the very entrance with pine cones! And there was nothing else in it. And there was no living cone: everyone was lying motionless. I threw the pine cones out of the birdhouse and slid down the tree.
Yesterday I came to this tree again. This time, a birch leaf has taken up residence in the birdhouse! I began to peer, the leaf became wary, froze and... hid!
I climbed the tree again. Now the birdhouse was filled with dry birch leaves! And nothing more. And there is no living leaf...
And here I am today. No one is visible in the entrance. I leaned my back against a nearby tree and waited.
The autumn forest rustles. Leaves fall, flutter, circle, fall on your head, on your shoulders, on your boots. I stood and stood and suddenly disappeared! It happens: you walk and everyone sees you, but you get up and disappear. Now you see those who will pass by you.
...The woodpecker clung to the birdhouse in mid-flight and made a noise! And from it, from this mysterious dwelling of a living cone and a living leaf, mice jumped out and flew! No, not bats, but forest mice. They spread their legs to the sides and flew down, as if on parachutes. They fell to the ground and ran away.
So that’s who, to my surprise, was moving a pine cone and a leaf in the entrance! They built their storage room and bedroom in the birdhouse. And while I was climbing towards them, they managed to escape unnoticed. And the woodpecker fell out of the blue, scared him and drove him away!
So what’s on the tree: a birdhouse or a mousebird? Maybe tits and jackdaws aren’t the only ones living in the jackdaws and titmouses? Well, let’s go and have a look, maybe we’ll find out...
Friends and comrades
My blind eyes, my stupid head, my deaf ears! - the Bear lamented, shaking his head in despair.
– It’s strange to see the strong in weakness! - muttered the big-headed eagle owl. -What happened to you, Bear?
- Don’t ask, Owl, don’t open the wound! I was left alone in misfortune and grief. Where are my true friends and comrades?
Although the owl is scary in appearance, he has a responsive heart. He says to the Bear:
Previously, the Bear would not have even looked at Owl, but now, as the only one left, he descended.
“You,” he says, “know me.” I am the strongest in the forest. And I had many friends. Everywhere I turned, everyone looked into my eyes. And suddenly not one at once! Like the wind blew it away.
“It’s strange, Bear, very strange,” sympathizes the Owl.
- It’s such a shame! Previously, it used to be that Magpie brought forest news on his tail as soon as it was light. The crows croaked throughout the forest about my strength and generosity. The mice tickled my heels in my sleep. The mosquitoes trumpeted songs of praise. And now no one...
– And were they all true friends? - The owl is asking questions.
- Bosom friends and comrades! - Bear shed tears. - How they will start vying with each other: “You are our smartest, you are our kindest, the strongest and the most beautiful.” My heart sang! And now they have fled...
- Well, no, no! – Owl blinked his eyes. - Don’t kill yourself like that! Tell me your best friends, maybe I’ll find out.
– I’ve already called them: Raven, Magpie and Mouse. Where are you?..
“Even though you don’t count me as a friend,” Owl promises, “I will serve you.” I'll find everyone and ask around. Wait for me here!
The Owl flapped his wide soft wings and took off silently. His shadow flashed across the bushes and trees. And he rushes like a shadow: he doesn’t touch a branch, his wing doesn’t creak. Two orange eyes look piercingly. They immediately saw Soroka.
- Hey, Magpie, were you friends with the Bear?
“You never know who I was friends with...” Soroka answers cautiously.
- Why have you forgotten him and abandoned him now?
– You never know who I abandon and forget... But the Bear himself is to blame! I’m not a simple friend, but a trusted friend. She trusted him with all her secrets. She reported where the sheep lame and strayed from the herd, in which hollow the bees hid honey, when the fish went to spawn in schools. The bear used to give orders in his own way, in a bear’s way, and you’d see – and something would fall to me. And now hunters have stolen him from our forest. Out of sight, out of mind!
- Hello, Raven! Why did you stop being friends with Bear?
- Which one is this with? Which hunters drove out of our forest? What do I need it for now? I’m not an ordinary friend, but a dinner friend. It used to be that after the Bear there were bones left for me too. And now others are probably getting it. Let others croak about him. But I don’t have time, I’m looking for another bear!
Even though it was a common thing, he didn’t see the mouse right away: it was hiding very cleverly.
- Hey, Mouse, is that you?
- Not me, not me! - the Mouse squeaked.
- Don’t be afraid, don’t give up on yourself! I just have to ask: why did you stop tickling Bear’s heels?
The Mouse came to her senses and squealed:
- How can I tickle them if the Bear took his legs from our forest? The heels just sparkled! The mosquitoes couldn't even catch up. We now serve Moose. Mosquitoes suck blood, I collect molting fur for the nest. Ring for blood, fur for tickling. We are prudent friends. Friend, friend, don’t be stupid yourself!
“Live for now,” muttered Owl. “It’s a pity that I don’t have time...” And he hurried to the Bear.
- Is it you, Owl? – the Bear was happy. - Don’t worry, what happened to your friends?
– You don’t have any more friends! - says Filin. - Yes, and it never happened!
- How can it be, and Magpie, and Raven?
– Friend – when just a friend. And these…
- It’s clear: trouble is at the door, and friends are out the door! All two-faced, all insignificant. Scoundrels! Ah-ah-ah! Woohoo!
But Owl doesn’t reassure, Owl thinks. And says:
“It seems to me that you bears cannot have any other friends.” You don't need friends, but people pleasers. You bears are too weak for praise. "Tell me who your friends are and I'll tell you who you are!" You, Bear, are also a Mouse. Only strong...
The bear growled angrily, squinted his terrible eye, and began to tear at the bark with his claws. But Owl no longer looked at him. The owl was thinking again.
“A true friend is known in trouble,” thought Owl. - A friend doesn’t lie at his feet. This was said a long time ago, but here you go..."
- Listen, Bear! - said Owl. - I’ll tell you a sign about a friend that you understand: “Not the friend who smears honey, but the one who tells the truth.” Understood?
- Still would! – the Bear was happy. - Honey, honey, mead... Sweeter than any truth!
“I don’t understand,” Owl said to himself and closed his eyes tiredly, “Bear...”
Who lives in my house?
-What a cute little hollow! - Woodpecker screamed. – It’s immediately obvious: my work! Does anyone live in it now? Hey, answer me!
There was no sound in response. The Woodpecker tapped his nose on the threshold of the hollow. And from the hollow - Mouse! The nose is sharp, the eyes are bulging, the ears are bare. And the mustache shines.
“Who’s knocking here and won’t let me sleep?”
The woodpecker recoiled:
– There are mice in my house! If I had known, I wouldn’t have hollowed out the hollow.
- But I, Woodpecker, am not a Mouse at all. Have you seen my tail? Do you want me to show you the tail? - And she stuck her tail out of the hollow - fluffy! And mice, as you know, have hairless tails.
- So who are you, if you’re not a Mouse? – Woodpecker doesn’t believe.
- I'm Sonya. Garden dormouse. Such a rodent.
- Sadovaya, do you live in the forest?
“Wherever I want, that’s where I live.”
“I didn’t hollow out the hollow for you, but for the hollow-nesting birds.”
- What should I do? I'm Sonya, I love to sleep, and where better to sleep than in a hollow tree? You can’t lie on the ground and catch a cold.
The woodpecker doesn't know what to say.
And Sonya has hers:
- Do you think that only birds live in your hollows? Check it out! I’ll leave the hollow myself if there are only birds.
The Woodpecker flew into the aspen forest: there he had most of the hollows hollowed out. He clung to the last one and shouted:
- Hey, tenant, show yourself! It's me, Woodpecker the Home Builder. I want to see who has settled in my hollow.
Something incomprehensible stuck out of the hollow - a wing or a flap? Something leather that looks like it’s been strung together on knitting needles. What kind of bird?
- Don't be afraid! - the animal chirps. - I'm just a bat. Thank you for the hollow!
But the Woodpecker was already far away, he was knocking on the third hollow. He knocked and became alert: it was unknown who was hiding in the hollow there!
- Don't knock, I'm not deaf - I hear! - they say from the hollow. - Who it?
-Who are you? - The woodpecker asks. – Do you run or fly?
- I climb. I also run and fly.
- Well, the residents! - Woodpecker gasped. - Some kind of dormouse, similar to mice. Some kind of mice, similar to birds. And before you know it, he’s climbing, running and flying! And I dug hollows for such people!
“Don’t be sorry, Woodpecker, nose - better have mercy on us,” is heard from the hollow. – Birdhouses and nest boxes are hung for hollow-nesting birds, and we have all our hope in you. And we are only beneficial for the forest.
- At least give your name! - Woodpecker became bolder. - Or lean out for a minute.
“I’m nocturnal,” one can hear dully from the hollow. - I'm sleeping now. Come here in the evening and you will see. And they call me Poletukha, Flying Squirrel, and more often – Flying Squirrel. I spread my paws, spread myself out, stretch out the folds on my sides - and plan. To everyone's surprise!
- Three hollows, but not a single bird! - Woodpecker calculated.
He flies up to the fourth, he wanted to attach himself, but the hollow... is buzzing! It buzzes angrily: don't come near.
Bees live in a hollow. So they swarm at the entrance: back and forth, back and forth! From the hollow, briskly and lightly, into the hollow, heavily - with pollen pollen. Now this is their hollow - try to touch it!
The woodpecker didn’t even ask: it was already clear. Not animals, not birds - insects took up residence. And they are also not useless: they pollinate flowers and collect honey. Let them live.
- You win! - the Woodpecker shouted to the Garden Dormouse. “But I thought that I only give houses to hollow-nesting birds.” And there are other hollow nests in the forest. And what other strange things: bat mice and flying squirrels, hard-working bees and lazy dormouse...
“I may be lazy,” Sonya was not offended, “but I do things no worse than others, I eat harmful bugs.” And she deserves your housing.
- Live! - Woodpecker shouted. - Everyone live - don’t mind, I’ll build houses for everyone! - Yes, when he started knocking, only chips fell. Soon someone else will have a hollow apartment. But to whom is still unknown. While the Woodpecker himself does not know about it.
Dancer
What a great weather! Rain, slush, cold, just - brrrr!.. In such weather, a good owner will not let the dog out of the house.
I decided not to release mine either. Let him sit at home and warm himself. And he took the binoculars, dressed warmly, pulled the hood over his forehead - and went! It’s still interesting to see what the animal does in such bad weather.
And as soon as I left the outskirts, I saw a fox! Mouses - hunts for mice. It prowls through the stubble: its back is arched, its head and tail are towards the ground - well, a pure rocker.
She lay down on her belly, her ears upright, and crawled: apparently she heard the voles. Now they crawl out of their holes every now and then to collect grain for the winter.
Suddenly the fox jumped up in front, then fell with its front paws and nose to the ground, rushed - a black lump flew up. The fox opened its toothy mouth and caught the mouse in flight. And she swallowed it without even chewing it.
And suddenly she started dancing! Jumps on all four, as if on springs. Then suddenly he jumps on his hind legs like a circus dog: up and down, up and down! She wags her tail and sticks out her pink tongue with zeal.
I’ve been lying there for a long time, watching her through binoculars. My ear is close to the ground - I can hear her paws stomping. He was covered in mud himself. I don’t understand why she’s dancing!
In this weather, just sit at home, in a warm, dry hole! And what kind of tricks does she pull out with her feet!
I got tired of getting wet - I jumped up to my full height. The fox saw it and barked in fright. Maybe she even bit her tongue. Get into the bushes - I was the only one who saw her!
I walked around the stubble and, like a fox, kept looking at my feet. Nothing remarkable: soil soaked from rain, rusty stems. Then I lay down like a fox on my stomach: wouldn’t I see something? I see: a lot of mouse holes. I hear mice squeaking in their holes. Then I jumped to my feet and let’s dance the fox dance! I jump up on the spot and stamp my feet.
Just then the frightened field mice will jump out of the ground! They shy away from side to side, bump into each other, squeak piercingly... Eh, if I were a fox, then...
What can I say: I realized what a hunt I had ruined for the fox.
She danced - she didn’t spoil her, she drove mice out of their holes... She would have had a feast here for the whole world!
It turns out what animal tricks you can recognize in this weather: fox dancing! I would spit on the rain and the cold, I would go to observe other animals, but I would feel sorry for my dog. It’s a shame I didn’t take it with me. He's bored, I guess, in the warmth under the roof.
Hare in pants
The white hare's hind legs have faded. There is no snow yet, but his legs have become white. It's like he's wearing white pants. Previously, no one noticed the brown hare in the clearing, but now it can be seen even behind the bush. Like an eyesore for everyone! He hid in a spruce forest - he saw the tits. Surrounded and let's squeak:
The fox will hear just that. The hare hobbled into the aspen grove. As soon as I lay down under the aspen tree, the magpies saw it! How they crack:
- Hare in pants, hare in pants!
The wolf will hear just that. A hare flashed into the thicket. There the tree was knocked down by a whirlwind. The top of the tree lay on the stump. She covered the stump like a hut. The white hare jumped onto a stump and became silent. “Now,” he thinks, “now he’s hidden from everyone!”
A hunter was walking through the forest and saw: in the thickest part of the forest there seemed to be a peephole looking at the sky. What kind of sky is there if the forest is black behind? The hunter looked into the forest peephole - a hare! Yes, it’s close – you can poke it with a gun. The hunter gasped in a whisper. And the hare - there is nowhere to go - walks straight towards the hunter!
The hunter stumbled back, got his feet entangled in dead wood and fell. And when he jumped up, only the white hare pants flashed in the distance.
Again the titmouse saw the hare and squealed:
- Hare in pants, hare in pants!
The magpies saw and began to chatter:
Hare in pants, hare in pants! And the hunter shouts:
- A hare in pants!
Here are the pants: no hiding, no changing, no discarding! If only it snowed soon, the worries would end.
Tit stock
To collect in reserve means to save yourself. Everyone saves themselves in their own way. The gopher steals grain from the fields and hides it in its hole. He even digs special storerooms for stolen grain. A water rat stuffs its snouts with potatoes. Sometimes he will train you to hell. For the winter, the owl freezes mice and birds in a hollow, like in a refrigerator. One such thrifty owl once found as many as two kilograms of wood mice! And one ermine put in a hole five water rats, seven voles, a titmouse, a viper, a lizard, a newt, a frog and a diving beetle!
All this is for a rainy day.
They stock up as best they can, where they can. Everything is different, but everything is for yourself: in your pantry, in your hollow, in your hole.
And only the cheerful crested titmice collect supplies in a completely different way. Although they are cheerful, they also have dark days. And that’s why they stock up tirelessly. A bug, a spider, a fly - that's fine. A seed, grain, berry will do. They have no storerooms of their own: no burrows, no hollows. There would be a convenient crack in the bark, especially under a knot, where neither rain nor wind would penetrate.
Hundreds of trees, thousands of storerooms. But will you remember them all?
And you don’t even need to remember them: these storerooms are for everyone! Does it really matter whose stock you find: yours or someone else’s? You pecked someone, and someone took yours. You are for everyone, and everything is for you.
A rainy day is scary for everyone: everyone needs to have a reserve. And you can collect it in different ways. You can be like a rat - only for yourself. Or like a crested titmouse - for yourself and for everyone.
How long is the hare?
How long is the hare? It depends. For a person - the size of a birch log. And for a fox or dog, a hare is two kilometers long. And even longer! Because for them, the hare begins not when they grab it or see it, but when they smell the hare’s trail. A short trail - two or three jumps - and the animal is small. And if the hare has managed to follow and loop, then it becomes longer than the longest animal on earth. Oh, how difficult it is for someone like that to hide in the forest!
The hare is trying with all his might to become shorter. Either it will drown the trail in the swamp, or with a jump it will tear it in two. The hare’s dream is to finally become himself, the size of a birch log. He lives and dreams of how to gallop away from his trace, to hide, how to shorten, tear, and discard him, who is worthless.
The life of a hare is special. Rain and snowstorms bring little joy to everyone, but they are good for the hare: they wash away and cover the trail. And it’s worse for him when the weather is calm and warm: the trail is then hot and the smell lasts a long time. In such weather the hare is longest. No matter where you hide, there is no peace: maybe the fox, even if it’s still two kilometers away, is already holding you by the tail!
So it's hard to tell how long a hare is. In calm weather, a smart hare stretches out, but in a snowstorm and downpour, a stupid one shortens.
Every day, the length of the hare is different.
And very rarely, when you are very lucky, there is a hare of the same length - as long as a birch log - as we see it. And everyone whose nose works better than their eyes knows about this. Dogs know. Foxes and wolves know. You should know too.
Underwater urchins
At the top, as in a hedgehog, the most noticeable things are the spines. Head, tail, spines in the middle - that’s the whole ruff. And also the eyes: lilac-blue, large, like a frog’s.
The ruff is as tall as a little finger. And if it’s the size of an index finger, then he’s already a ruff old man.
These old men scared me. I swim and see: the bottom is moving and staring at me with points of dark eyes. These are ruffs - old man to old man! Themselves are invisible: tails, heads, spines - everything is as spotted as the bottom. Only eyes are visible.
I hung over the ruffs, my fins dangling. The ruffs became wary. The timid ones suddenly began to fall to the bottom, bend over and deliberately raise clouds of turbidity. And the angry and brave ruffled the thorns on their humps: don’t approach!
Like a hawk above the sparrows, I began to circle over the flock of ruff. The ruffs waited. I began to wheeze into the breathing tube. The ruffs were not afraid. I widened my eyes - at least they didn’t care! Then I... almost said: “spit on the ruffs”... No, I didn’t spit, you can’t spit under water, but waved my flipper at the ruffs and swam away.
No such luck! A sharp swing of the fin caused mud to rise and swirl from the bottom. All the ruffs rushed to her: after all, delicious worms and larvae rose from the bottom along with the mud!
The faster I worked with my fins, in a hurry to swim away, the more silt I lifted from the bottom. Clouds of silt swirled behind me like dark storm clouds. Behind the clouds were flocks of ruffs.
The ruffs only lagged behind when I swam to the depths. But at the depths I felt uneasy. I was not yet accustomed to the depth; these were still my first steps under water.
The bottom sank deeper and deeper. And it seemed to me that I was flying above the ground and soaring higher and higher. I just wanted to grab onto something so as not to fall from this height!
I turned back.
It's overgrown again. There are ruffs in the thickets. It seems to be more fun - all living souls! Little fingered ruffs swim in half the water, and old people swim at the bottom. Now I deliberately raised the mud with my flippers. “Old men” and “little fingers,” like sparrows on millet, rushed at her. I no longer scare the ruffs: I don’t wheeze into the phone, I don’t stare at them. Just looking. And therefore, even the most timid no longer fall on their side to pick up the mud from the bottom and hide in it. And the angriest ones don’t have thorns on their humps.
Flexible guys. Smart!
