64 EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 
man’s tracks for a long distance, perhaps out of 
curiosity, perhaps in the hope of finding food. As I 
looked at the trail of this little killer, I was glad that 
he was not larger. If weasels, or those other killers, 
the shrews, were as large as a dog, no man’s life 
would be safe out of doors. 
I explored so far that the sun had set before I 
turned back for the cabin. Suddenly, from far over 
where the tree-trunks were inked black against the 
golden afterglow, I heard a hoot, deep rather than 
loud. ‘‘Hoo, hoo-hoo, hoo, hoo!” it went, and some- 
times, ‘‘ Hoo-hoo-hoo!’’ Usually, though, the second 
note was doubled. It meant that the great horned owl 
with its speckled gray back and white collar was 
hunting rabbits through the silent woods. If it had 
been the barred owl, the third note would have 
been doubled and the last note would have had a 
drop in its cadence. 
In the frosty twilight I hurried along the winding 
path, back to the cabin and a long, dreamy evening 
before the roaring fire. First came a wonderful ex- 
hibition of free-hand cooking. Then I piled the great 
fireplace well up the chimney with masses of pitch- 
pine knots and stumps that I had dug up in the dry 
bogs. All of the sapwood had decayed, leaving 
nothing except the resinous bones of the fallen trees. 
They burned at the touch of a match, with a red 
smoky flame. Above them I banked dry lengths of 
swamp maple and post oak. Then, drawing up a 
vast rocker well within the circle of the heat, I settled 
down to read and dream in front of the red coals. 
