motes of tbe IFUgbt 



osity often gives place to fear. Then the night- 

 wanderer wishes himself at home. The timid 

 naturalist has not chosen his vocation wisely. 



This night I kept to the highway, with a cat- 

 owl almost at my elbow. It was excellent com- 

 pany, though it laughed, I fancied, when I stumbled 

 over the frozen ground, for the path was in shadow 

 and my eyes kept only the painted skies in view. 

 Whether it so happened that we both were eastward 

 bound, or the owl sought me out as an ultimate 

 victim, I do not know, but the association was 

 too marked to pass unnoticed. The bird kept 

 an even pace, flying almost as slowly as I walked, 

 and resting on each wayside cedar until I came 

 up, never a matter of more than a dozen paces. 

 Would it turn down the lane, I thought, as I 

 neared the gate. The big red oak there might 

 stay its progress, and a mouse in the field call 

 it off; but no, the lane was no bar to its pupose, 

 and I saw the owl constantly before me un- 

 til I reached the house. A petrel will follow a 

 ship for days together, and with good reason for 

 this ; but why should an owl follow a man ? Could 

 the fur gloves that I wore have been the attrac- 

 tion ? I can think of nothing else. Later I was 

 told my owl meant good luck, but how soon af- 

 ter ten years have now slipped by in this case 

 my informant could not say. "It 's sure 

 though," he insisted, as if he had often been a re- 

 cipient of owl-presaged good fortune. I was led, 



