owls' cave. There was design in the bulge, or 

 foresight in the owls' choice ; for that excres- 

 cence is the hardest thing to get beyond I ever 

 climbed up to. But it must be mounted, or the 

 queerest pair of little dragons ever hatched will 

 go unseen. 



The owls themselves first guided me to the 

 spot. I was picking my way through this piece 

 of woods, one April day, when a shadowy some- 

 thing swung from one high limb to another 

 overhead, following me. It was the female owl. 

 Every time she lighted she turned and fixed her 

 big black eyes hard on me, silent, somber, and 

 watchful. As I pushed deeper among the gums, 

 she began to snap her beak and drop closer. 

 Her excitement grew every moment. I looked 

 about for the likely tree. The instant I spied 

 the hole above the bulge, the owl caught the 

 direction of my eyes, and made a swoop at me 

 that I thought meant total blindness. 



I began to climb. "With this the bird lapsed 

 into the quiet of despair, perched almost in 

 reach of me, and began to hoot mournfully : 

 Woo-hoo, woo-hoo, woo-hoo, oo-oo-a ! And faint 

 and far away came back a timid Woo-hoo, woo-a! 

 [264] 



