The din grows louder and louder; fresh 

 voices are coming in every minute ; and the 

 owl, wondering in some vague way if he is 

 the cause of it all, flies off to some other 

 tree, where he can be quiet and go to sleep. 

 Then, with a great rush and clatter, the 

 crows follow, some swift old scout keeping 

 close to the owl and calling all the way to 

 guide the whole cawing rabble. When the 

 owl stops, they gather round again and go 

 through the same performance more excitedly 

 than before. So it continues till the owl 

 finds a hollow tree and goes in out of sight, 

 leaving them to caw themselves tired ; or 

 else he finds some dense pine grove, and 

 doubles about here and there, with that 

 shadowy noiseless flight of his, till he has 

 thrown them off the track. Then he flies 

 into the thickest tree he can find, generally 

 outside the grove where the crows are look- 

 ing, and sitting close up against the trunk 

 blinks his great yellow eyes and listens to the 

 racket that goes sweeping through the grove, 

 peering curiously into every thick pine, search- 

 ing everywhere for the lost excitement. 



241 



Croto-tOays 



