176 Sporting Sketches 



rose, and now and then a heavy one leaped clear of 

 the water and fell with a sounding splash. 



From somewhere among the black walls of giant 

 sycamores and walnuts a big-horned owl hailed the 

 voyageurs in gruff, commanding tones the all- 

 night bass which more than owls acquire " Whoo, 

 who you two ? " with startling distinctness. The 

 dog uttered a low growl and Marse Ned chuckled 

 to himself, " You two " is good. Hailed by one 

 chicken thief, while trying to keep an engagement 

 with another. Then he sent back a masterly imita- 

 tion. 



" Whoo, hoo-hoo-hoo, whoo ! " an imitation that 

 fooled the midnight despoiler of hen roosts so com- 

 pletely that he challenged again and again. For a 

 few moments the paddle poised in air while Marse 

 Ned hesitated whether or not to run ashore and 

 attempt to shoot the deep-voiced ruffian by moon- 

 light 



" 'Twould be a right charitable job," he muttered, 

 " to fill you full of lead, you platter-faced scoundrel ! " 

 But he thought of the light charges in his shells and 

 swung the paddle again. Every farmer and farmer's 

 wife along the river were friends of his, and for a 

 certainty the owl would have never lifted another 

 fowl had there been any reasonable chance of bagging 

 him. 



Rounding a bend farther up, the dog shifted 

 uneasily, and Marse Ned could feel the vibration 

 from his nervous twitching through the light frame 

 of the canoe. 



"What is it, old fellow?" he- whispered. The 

 answer came like a flash. A sudden, tumultuous 



