Atalapha, a Winged Brownie 
reach of that deadly grip. Sometimes the Owl, 
failing to reach with claw, would turn his huge 
face to the place, snap his bill, and glare with those 
shiny eyes or make the tree trunk boom with his 
loud ‘‘ Hoo-hoo-hoo-ho!”’ 
Sometimes one of the monsters went off hunting. 
But always one stayed there on guard; and so 
the whole night passed. It was only when the 
sunrise was at hand that remembrance of their 
own unfed, unguarded nestlings took the Owls 
away; and so the siege was ended. 
There were other friendships and other hazards 
in the life of Atalapha. Many of the male com- 
munity were good fellows, to meet and pass in 
friendly evening flight. His father, now quite 
small it seemed, was of the brotherhood, meeting 
and passing or ceding little courtesies of the road 
as is the way of Bats; but he was a comrade, noth- 
ing more. 
Some of these Bats lived in little groups of two 
or three, but most had a single cell where they slept. 
The little Black and Brown-faced Bats might roost 
in swarms, but the Great Northern Courser of 
the night more often dens alone. This was the 
habit of Atalapha, except during that brief summer 
time that he shared his home with Fawn-eyes. 
The perils of his life were first the birds of prey, 
175 
