SILENT WING THE GREAT HORNED OWL 145 



must have lost its nerve enough to move or cackle at the 

 sound of that terrifying cry, but he had brought none home. 

 Later she had heard the report of a gun, but guns fired at 

 night seldom do harm, and surely so wise an owl as her 

 husband had not met disaster by this means. She would 

 patiently wait, for hunger was to be preferred to cold. 



Moments passed into hours and still she waited. Near 

 morning the wind sank to rest and the moon shone forth 

 brilliantly. Hastily slipping out of the nest she sailed to 

 the top of the tallest tree in the neighborhood and began 

 scanning the landscape. Things were not altogether to her 

 liking, for the moon was full and its light on the new 

 fallen snow was blinding, but she must succeed in her quest 

 for food. While she was trying to decide which way to 

 go, Molly Cottontail and her foolish brother emerged from 

 the crabapple thicket and started a game of tag in the open 

 field near by. Back and forth they raced, rejoicing in the 

 feel of the soft snow, their minds wholly bent on the game. 

 This mighty hunter of the night knew that even two foolish 

 rabbits engaged in a game of tag would scurry to shelter 

 should a shadow fall across their path, so she flew around 

 the field keeping behind the tree tops so she could cross 

 the field '^up moon,^' so that her shadow would fall behind. 

 Swiftly she flew, silent as the shadows that flit across the 

 field. Molly ran down the field and squatted behind a 

 little bush and waited to startle her playmate when he 

 should come dashing past in pursuit, but she waited in 

 vain. ^h.e silent wings swooped downward and, with a 

 scream of triumph that was meant to tell the waiting babies 

 that all was well, the great bird carried the warm limp 

 form to the nesthole. Without thinking too much about 

 the fate of her husband and the outlook for the future, 



