62 Wilderness Ways. 



before, an older boy had a horned owl, which he had 

 taken from a nest, and which he kept loose in a dark 

 garret over the shed. None of us younger boys dared 

 go up to the garret, for the owl was always hungry, 

 and the moment a boy's head appeared through the 

 scuttle the owl said Hoooo! and swooped for it. So 

 we used to get acquainted with the big pet by push- 

 ing in a dead rat, or a squirrel, or a chicken, on the 

 end of a stick, and climbing in ourselves afterwards. 



As I write, the whole picture comes back to me 

 again vividly ; the dark, cobwebby old garret, pierced 

 here and there by a pencil of light, in which the motes 

 were dancing; the fierce bird down on the floor in the 

 darkest corner, horns up, eyes gleaming, feathers all 

 a-bristle till he looked big as a bushel basket in the 

 dim light, standing on his game with one foot and 

 tearing it savagely to pieces with the other, snapping 

 his beak and gobbling up feathers, bones and all, in 

 great hungry mouthfuls; and, over the scuttle, two 

 or three small boys staring in eager curiosity, but 

 clinging to each other's coats fearfully, ready to tum- 

 ble cfown the ladder with a yell at the first hostile 

 demonstration. 



The next afternoon I was back in the big woods 

 to investigate. Fifty feet behind the thicket where I 

 had been struck was a tall dead stub overlooking a 



