78 NEIGHBOURS UNKNOWN 



black-and-white hornet. Having stared at 

 the nest for several minutes, he seemed to 

 come to some decision. Thereupon he tripped 

 off delicately over the tree-roots to the brook, 

 to resume his hunt for crawfish. 



It was by this time getting far along in the 

 afternoon. As the gloom deepened at the 

 approach of twilight, the bear went to sleep. 

 The darkness fell thicker and thicker, till his 

 breathing bulk could no longer be distinguished 

 from the trunk beside it. Then, from narrow 

 openings in the far-off tree-tops fell here and 

 there a ray of white moonlight, glassy clear, 

 but delusive. Under the touch of these scant 

 rays, every shrouded mystery of the swamp 

 took on a sort of malignant life. 



About this time the racoon came back. 

 In that phantom illumination, more treacher- 

 ous than the dark, his wide eyes, nearly all 

 pupil, saw as clearly as in the daylight. They 

 gleamed elvishly as they took note of the 

 sleeping bear. Then they glanced upward 

 toward the hornets' nest, where it hung just 

 crossed by one chill white pencil of a moon ray. 

 Softly their owner ran up the tree, his delicate 

 claws almost inaudible as they clutched the 

 roughness of the bark. 



At the base of the slim branch hardly 

 more than a twig, but alive and tough 



