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Towards dusk I noticed suddenly that the 

 top of the old stub looked a bit peculiar, but 

 ^^ookooskoos ^* ^^^ some time before I made out a big owl 

 sitting up there. His back was towards me; 

 he sat up very straight and still, so as to make 

 himself just a piece, the tip end, of the stub. 

 As I watched, he hooted once and bent for- 

 ward to listen. Then I pulled on my string. 

 With the first rustle of a leaf he whirled 

 and poised forward, in the intense attitude an 

 eagle takes when he sights the prey. 

 On the instant he had sighted the 

 cap, wriggling in and out among the 

 low bushes, and swooped for it like 

 an arrow. Just as he dropped his 

 legs to strike, I gave a sharp pull, 

 and the cap jumped from under 

 him. He missed his strike, but 

 wheeled like a fury and struck again. 

 Another jerk, and again he missed. 

 Then he was at the thicket where 

 I stood ; his fierce yellow eyes glared 

 straight into mine for a startled instant, and 

 he brushed me with his wings as he sailed 

 away into the shadow of the spruces. 



